Star Wars: On the Job

Chapter 12: Leak

After refueling, Kanan and Hera had agreed that the more distance they put between them and Jhatu the better. It was a short flight up to Husera's largest city, Hoffin, an industrial hub close to the northern pole. Kanan'd heard that the planet's ice cap was a sprawling network of blue-ice caves, the deeper ones housing luminescent silk-worms that fed on the same veins of frozen kalioxide valued by the miners. A part of him was curious to see this natural wonder, but a bigger part of him wanted to avoid the sub-zero temperatures. And an even bigger part wanted to put Husera behind him as soon as possible.

Still early in the morning, Kanan clinked his fingernail on the side of another empty mug of caf. He'd already been up for over an hour, unable to sleep. The galley was brimming with supplies for the first time in a while. Fresh fruits, especially colorful pink and yellow meilooruns, sat piled on the counter next to boxes of ration bars in a rainbow of flavors.

Even the long-awaited return of food didn't have much effect on Kanan's mood. Hera's ultimatum hung over him like a shroud he kept trying to push off only to find it smothering him again. In his attempt to escape it, he'd come to the galley. It was quiet, cold and mostly dark, the perfect place to roll through menial reports and diagnostics, pretending not to think. The only real comfort in the room came from the caf machine, but even its welcoming aroma was dimming quickly. Kanan tapped the ceramic cup again and glanced at the datapad. Ten percent until full down-load.

Pushing out a long breath, he almost missed the hush of Hera's door opening at the other end of the ship. His eyes shot to the caf machine blinking for its water to be refilled. He considered jumping up and filling it, but the thud of the cockpit door killed that idea. He leaned back, still tense. His chest had been slowly closing up into a lump of unformed plasteel, growing larger every time he avoided speaking to Hera and growing heavier every time she avoided looking at him. He shifted in his seat and pushed the lump down again, ignoring the silence at the end of the hall and the red blinking light on the caf machine. The empty cup chinked crisply under his fingernail twice more before the datapad finally lit up.

Kanan pushed lazily through the list as he took in the details of the latest diagnostic. Yellow warning lines rolled down the screen. From exterior lights to power couplings to sub-buffers and relays, everything needed attention. One of the items in particular glared at him obstinately from the bottom of the list. The starboard external coolant leak was back.

In atmosphere, the cargo-hold was echoic, and his footsteps bounced through the empty space still littered with dirt and leaves. Where just yesterday it had been piled with precarious crates of infested cargo, now the corners were crowded with fuel canisters, battery cells, and spare parts. It was everything they needed to bring the Ghost back to top traveling condition.

Any other day these piles of supplies would have filled Kanan with a thrill of anticipation, the symbol of new adventures on the horizon. But as it was, he barely glanced at them.

In a few seconds the starboard access panel was off. He shined a flashlight into the same cramped space he'd squeezed into less than a day before while interstellar parasites squealed in his ears. The beam of light fell on the sealant, transparent purple now that it had dried. A spider web of tiny cracks glittered throughout all three layers, shifting like a kaleidoscope as he moved the flashlight from side to side. He'd have to scrape it all off and start again if he wanted to fix it properly. About an hour's worth of work. Great.

Hydrospanner in hand, Kanan's mind wandered back to the same monologues he'd been fighting all night. The first voice was Hera's. You know my terms, she said. You can either accept them and stay on... or not.

The memory of those words made the lump in his chest churn, so he pushed them aside. No sooner were they gone than another voice welled up, this one attached to a face he refused to see. You must not grow too attached, too fond, too in love with life as it is now, it said. Those emotions are valuable and should not be suppressed. But you must learn to rule them lest they rule you.