Star Wars Rebels: Hera & Kanan

Chapter Twenty-seven

"Ugh. Are you kidding me?" Nash groaned. "What the hell do you two want now?

Hera turned her head to glare at him. "You didn't change your access code?"

"He did not," Sarat said, with a condescending smile. "We would have gotten into the ship regardless, of course- but I knew I could rely on Nash's sentimental attachment to certain numbers."

"This seems awfully dramatic, even for you two," Nash said.

Dravik and Sarat glanced at each other. "It does have a certain dramatic flair, I admit," Sarat said. "But let's not be dull. You know how I loathe it when things are dull."

Nash rolled his eyes. "You are truly insufferable, Sarat. Don't think I forgot you, Ino. You are also extremely insufferable."

Dravik sighed, wrinkling his hooked blue nose. "I'd like to just blast him now and be done with it," he said to Sarat.

"I know, my dear. I know. But let's stick to the plan. Don't forget- I'm a senator. Appearances must be kept."

Kanan stood behind Hera and Nash with his hands raised, watching the bizarre tableau play out. He'd encountered all sorts of strange people in his time roaming the galaxy, but rarely anyone so wealthy, entitled, and obnoxious as the two currently holding them at blasterpoint. He might have been inclined to laugh, if not for Hera. She was practically vibrating with anger, and he wasn't sure who she wanted to direct it at most- Nash or Sarat.

"Take their weapons, Garva" Dravik said to one of his bodyguards, a nondescript and dimwitted Nikto in a standard-issue gangster suit. Kanan had encountered him before. A human bodyguard stood off to one side, his blaster raised and pointed at them. Dravik's giant didn't seem to have a weapon- likely because he didn't need one. He was as tall as a Wookiee, but much wider, with malformed facial features. He looked like a human subjected to experimentation with growth hormones, and Kanan suspected that was exactly what he was, too.

Garva gave him and Nash a none-too-gentle patting-down. "They don't have any," he told his boss.

"Check her," Sarat said, giving Hera a disingenuous smile. She glowered at him.

Garva's beady eyes moved from Hera's fancy red dress to her furious scowl. To Dravik, he said, "Boss, I don't think-"

Sarat cut him off. "Oh, I assure you, she is armed. And there is no need to be delicate with her."

And, just like that, Kanan's thoughts were consumed by an intense desire to beat the senator's handsome face to a bloody pulp. He tensed as Garva approached Hera. Using the Force in front of anyone was out of the question- and he definitely couldn't use it in front of an Imperial senator. But he was willing to risk using his speed and strength to break an arm or two if need be.

"Don't touch me," Hera growled at Garva. "I'll hand it to you."

"Don't believe her," Sarat said. "She can't be trusted." The baffled Nikto looked at his boss for guidance.

"Sarat...enough. Just let her hand it over," Dravik muttered. "She's got plenty of blasters pointed at her- I doubt she's that stupid."

"You don't know her like I do, my dear," Sarat replied.

Nash snorted, and Hera shot him a stony glare. "What? He may be space trash, but he has a point," Nash said, shrugging.

Hera rolled her eyes, sighed, and stuck one hand inside the low back of her dress. It had a very fitted bodice- a detail that had not escaped Kanan's notice or appreciation- and the snug fit evidently demanded some wiggling to procure the blaster. Kanan ought to have kept his eyes on the people with weapons pointed at them, but he couldn't pry his gaze away from Hera's shimmying. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nash grinning insolently at both of them.