Star Wars: On the Job

Chapter 13: The Last Time

Two full days. Two full days and the repairs were finally finished.

Hera glanced out the viewport to where flaky fistfuls of snow spiraled down from a white sky. The snow muted the air as it slid across the silver-domed rooftops cluttering the view out the docking bay. Although the domes were designed to draw warmth into the buildings below them, the pearly frost crawling across their surfaces gave the landscape a ghostly quality.

Hera snorted at her semi-joke. "Ghostly," she repeated to herself and reached for the console, but a sound from the belly of the ship stopped her hand short. A dull clang echoed up from the cargo-hold. Somehow the freezing temperatures outside had amplified the silence of these past two days. Where the quiet times on the Ghost had once been comfortable– even affable– now they were grating, like fingernails scraping at her insides. Kanan and Hera had split up the repairs and kept out of each other's way with a minimum of discussion. It was almost funny how they were still able to work together fluidly even with the inevitable hanging over them. Still, this clang that rang through the Ghost was especially hollow; Kanan was back from the spaceport.

Hera willed herself not to listen to every scrape and thud that accompanied his return, but her ears were zeroed in so much that she no longer noticed the diagnostic results in front of her. She hadn't been sure this morning when he'd headed out if that would be the last time she saw Kanan Jarrus. It wouldn't have been a surprise if he left without saying good-bye, but she was relieved that he had come back... at least for that.

A knock sounded on the door to the cockpit and it slid open. Kanan stood in the doorway wearing a newish green sweater he'd picked up. Since Twi'leks didn't handle cold weather well, Kanan had braved the snow and ice to shop around for spare parts. She suspected that it was also a good excuse for him to get off the Ghost and away from her. His boots and pants were still wet around the ankles from the slush on the streets. His overcoat was nowhere to be seen, presumably left down in the cargo-hold to drip snowmelt onto the floor.

Her palms went numb as she took him in. His long dark hair was pulled neatly back. He'd shaved that morning, leaving his face smooth of everything but the beard he kept at the end of his chin. On his thigh was strapped his blaster and a few new gadgets were scattered on his belt. He leaned on the doorframe, trying to look relaxed, but the tightness in his jaw told her he was anything but.

Hera took in a long breath that shook at the end. "Did you get everything taken care of?" she asked. Her head buzzed with a noisy static, but she shoved it aside and listened to the silence ringing in the chilly air instead.

"Yeah. I've got a flight leaving in about an hour," he said not quite meeting her eyes.

Hera felt like she'd been punched in the gut. So soon.

"Good," she nodded. She wanted to ask where he was going, but it was better if she didn't know. Instead she gave the cockpit a quick glance and stood up. Would he see that her knees were shaking?

"Thanks for all your help." She stuck out her hand. "I couldn't have gotten this all done without you."

"Yes, you could have." He took her hand and gave it a single, firm shake. They both pulled their hands away a beat too quickly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "It just would have taken a lot longer."

His wry smile was tired at the edges. "So you're going to Polis Massa next?" he asked.

"After I pick up Chopper. It's just a quick stop."

Kanan's lips quirked at the sound of the droid's name, but the flicker of warmth vanished like a cold ember. He would never meet Chopper. He would never meet her oldest companion. He would never... Hera cleared her throat. She could let it close up on her later.