Saga - PT SW Rebels: Understanding -- Kanan, Hera, Chopper -- COMPLETE

Title: Understanding
Author: ardavenport
Timeframe: Between PT and OT: Pre-Star Wars Rebels, post-New Dawn
Genre: drama, humor
Characters: Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla
Keywords: Kanan Jarrus, lightsaber, Jedi, rebels
Summary: Soon after joining Hera Syndulla on the Ghost, Kanan Jarrus comes to an understanding with her eccentric astromech.
Disclaimer: All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to Disney and Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.


*** *** Part 1

It was too early. But Kanan Jarrus was awake and sleep was not coming back. Yawning, he pushed himself up off his bunk, rummaged amongst his few personal things and pulled on the minimum of day clothes. Stepping out of his cabin, he yawned again and rubbed his eyes. Why were the lights up so early?

"Ooof!"

Toes slamming hard, painfully into something hard and pitching forward, Kanan flailed his arms, catching himself on the deck as he went down in a clumsy roll.

"Waaa-waaa-waaaah-wawawawa-waaaah!!"

"Ow!" He yanked his squashed hand out from under the machine now confronting him.

"Waah-wa-wa-waaaawaawaaa-wa-wah!!"

Chopper backed Kanan up into the door of the empty cabin opposite Kanan's, a silvery appendage extended threateningly.

A spark projector!? Kanan pressed his back into the closed door, pulling his head back away from the weapon. What was this droid doing with a spark projector?

Saying that Hera Sydulla's astromech was eccentric was a gross understatement. Since being introduced to the machine a few days ago after leaving Gorse, Chopper had found every opportunity to get in his way. When Hera showed him around the ship, Chopper was there, getting between them, squawking loud objections at every maintenance job that Hera planned for Kanan to do to earn his keep on her ship.

'Waa-waa-waaaa-wa-wah!!' 'What? You hate flushing the fuel lines.' 'Waah-wawawaaa-waa-wah!!' 'Now you want to charge the transceivers? You never do them.'

The droid obeyed Hera's commands even as it blatted out a lot of back talk which she returned when she didn't like what she heard. And during that tour, Kanan quickly learned to anticipate Chopper's moves to tread on his toes, which seemed to irritate the droid even more. But now it was threatening to do real damage.

"Hey!" He got his feet under him and pushed himself up, standing over the droid's square orange dome. "I don't know what's your defect, but Hera said I'm part of the crew now. You got a problem with that, take it up with her!"

Snap-Snap-SNAP!

"Aaaah!" Kanan leapt sideways and rolled, his thigh stinging. Scrambling to his feet, he made it around the corner of the corridor going toward the starboard gun turret. Chopper rushed after him.

Which was a mistake for Chopper. Before the droid cleared the corner, Kanan landed a solid kick to the side of its dome, knocking it backward onto the deck with a huge crash.

"Ow!" Kanan fleetingly grabbed his bare foot before diving forward. Chopper already had its upper appendages out to right itself. Kanan got his fingers under the droid's boxy feet and lifted, turning the droid completely over on its head and letting it slam back down onto its front side. Now the spark projector was pinned on the deck. Kanan jumped onto Chopper's cylindrical body and grabbed the upper appendages that were still trying to attack him, the dome completely turned around, eye sensors on him.

"WAAAH WAWAWAWAWAWAWA WAAAAAAAH!"

"Oh, no you don't!" servos squealed as Kanan hung on, holding back the snapping metal pincers.

"Aah-hem!"

They both froze.

Chopper's dome shifted, tilting its round visual sensors toward something behind Kanan's right shoulder.

Hera's green eyes stared down at them. She was fully dressed in orange and brown flight gear, her patterned green lekku dangling from the back of her helmet, her arms folded over her chest. Kanan could practically feel the vibration of her foot tapping on the deck.

He let go and jumped off, pasting a late and embarrassed smile on his face. Behind him, Chopper righted itself, whirled around and guiltily shuddered and 'waa'ed in place.

"I guess this doesn’t look good," Kanan finally admitted when the silence grew too much for him.

"Well, that's one way of looking at it."

"Waaah-wawaw-waa … waawaa… wah." Chopper's defense fell flat under Hera disapproving glare.

"You're up early," he started again after another painful silence.

"Mm-hmm. We're coming out of hyperspace. Or did you forget?"

"Oh, right." He had forgotten, but it was early. "I guess I better get dressed."

"That would be a good idea." Hera's neutral look passed over his bare feet and then turned into something more critical at the astromech. "Chopper." She pointed toward the cockpit.

Shuddering the droid put its middle foot down and headed forward. Kanan anticipated Chopper's little detour and got his feet out of the way.

After a hurried dressing and wash, Kanan stepped up to the forward door, pausing to tuck his shirt in. His stomach growled. He decided he could eat later.

He deliberately walked around the navigator's station Chopper who only let out a derisive 'Wah' in his direction as he passed. Hera did not look back at him as he took the co-pilot's seat. Literally seconds later, Hera pulled down on the hyperspeed levers, smoothly collapsing the field around the ship, dropping it back into the real space. A greenish-tan globe, suspended in a brilliant backdrop of stars rapidly grew in the forward port as the Ghost's able pilot guided it into orbit.

The planet was named Zokrim. It was modestly populated, but did a fair bit of trade with nearby systems. When Hera had delivered the data that she gathered on Gorse she had been referred to a person who might pay well for a discrete transport. Kanan had not even gotten off the ship for that stop. Hera did not say anything about who wanted information to use against the Galactic Empire and Kanan did not ask. He was happy to support her cause, but that was more because he admired Hera than his dislike for the Empire. And crewing on her superb ship was the best gig he'd had in a long time. Perhaps ever.

Hera did not ask him to do anything as she guided the ship down toward the planet's largest spaceport. Chopper handled the automatic communications with the port-master as they descended into the atmosphere, gliding over craggy mountains and then lower over hills and a flat tan plain dotted with greenish lakes. Planet rotation was at midday. They were assigned to Docking Bay Eee-47. Kanan admired Hera's skill guiding the light freighter to exactly the right coordinates and then vertically descending into a landing so gentle Kanan could only be sure they were down by the view outside. Hera powered the engines down and got up.

"Keep an eye on the ship while we're out, Chop."

Kanan hastily got up to follow. He'd had no idea if he was needed, but apparently so. The door hissed open, but Hera paused and Kanan stopped before running into her.

"Oh, and Kanan, good job on flushing out the fuel lines. I've got a lot more things for you do around here when we're done with this."

Chopper's eye-sensors swiveled at them. "Wah!"

"Stay with the ship, Chop." Hera left, striding down the corridor. Kanan only paused long enough for a satisfied smirk at the droid.

He did not speak until they were outside the ship at the base of the entry ramp.

"So, what is the job?"

"Basic transport; nothing special. But our customer is supposed to want it to be very discrete, so he'll pay." She looked back fondly at the Ghost as they exited the docking bay. "It takes a lot to keep my ship in fuel and supplies."

"And I suppose harassing the Empire doesn't pay much."

Hera gave him a look, but said nothing. Kanan said nothing more that might imply that he disapproved of her cause. He didn't. He just did not treat it with the same enthusiasm that she did.

Hera's stomach growled. Kanan grinned.

"Let's get something to eat," she conceded.

The signs around the Zokrimi spaceport welcomed them to Toridim Aab and the many arrows and above-ground walkways led the throngs of travelers, droids and floaters leaving it across a busy speederway. The dominant species seemed to be basic Human, a Chiss variant with green and yellow hair and a short, snub-nosed Urgnoid that chattered and squealed in groups as they hurried among the taller sentients. On the other side of the speeder-way, a forest of floating, flashing signs promised sustenance of many varieties. Kanan looked down at Hera when she checked her comlink, but she did not ask his opinion about what he wanted to eat.

"Come on." She seemed to know where she was going and he quickened his pace.

Soon, they were sitting on the second level of a café under a clear-plas ceiling that gave them a very good view of the ships and speeders coming and going. The droid waiter brought them water, took their orders and left. Kanan decided enough time had passed since his early morning debacle.

"So, does Chopper always try to kill anyone else you try to bring onto your ship?" That would certainly explain a lot. The Ghost had four crew cabins and plenty of room that could be converted to living space if needed. It was a lot of ship for one lone pilot and one droid to manage.

The look of annoyance in Hera's green eyes was only fleeting to Kanan's relief.

"He's jealous, that's all."

"Jealous? A droid?"

"I've had him for a long time. Long before I got the ghost. He's the first part of my crew."

Sensible droid owners got their machines memory wipes when they started developing personality quirks. But a droid that had built up a good memory could be a thousand times more useful than one right out of the box.

Wait. First part of her crew?

"Chopper's going to make it a little difficult getting a second if he doesn't change his attitude."

"I know," she sighed. "He's . . . opinionated. But he can fix anything on the Ghost and he's very loyal. I was just hoping that you could be a little more mature than he is and find a way to get along." Hera placed one delicate green hand on his arm. Kanan lowered his eyes. He could hardly believe his good fortune.

She wants me to stay.

"I guess I can manage. At least if you can keep Chopper from electrocuting me. Where did he get a spark projector?"

Hera smiled. "It's original equipment. I salvaged him from a crashed Republic ship during the Clone War."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? You have had him for a long time." The Clone War ended more than ten years ago, when the Empire rose. "You must have been pretty young."

Hera shrugged her narrow shoulders. "I was always good with tech. And Chopper's good back-up. He's gotten me out of a few tight spots."

I could do that.

Crewing on the Ghost with Hera was all he wanted. He did not have anywhere else special to go. It was a better ship than any tramp freighter or transport he'd worked on or piloted. And with Hera there was no incentive to get drunk and get into fights with any other transient workers. Kanan did not even like drinking much, and he was not that crazy about black eyes and bloody fists it often led to, but it was expected if he wanted to blend in with the crowd, for people like him. Rootless people who were not Jedi, or wanted by the Empire with high bounties on their heads. Hera did not ask questions about that. He nodded back to her.

She took her hand away and he regretted that moment passing. He changed the subject and asked about who they were supposed to meet.

They were to meet a dealer named Tornosk. He wanted to move some cargo to his partner in a nearby system without any unnecessary Imperial tariffs being attached to it. That was the first sting a newly annexed section of space felt from the Empire, the taxes. The Empire's footprint on Zokrim was still light, so there were plenty of people who wanted to move things before the Imperial fist tightened on their trade. But there wasn't much to say about the job past that. They did not know what Tornosk looked like or what his cargo was.

Their food came and there wasn't much more to say while they ate, bowls of savory stew and crunchy grain flats; they were quite good. They kept their eyes out for anyone looking their way, but none of the other diners scattered about the tables and tall, decorative plants paid any attention to them. But after Hera paid their bill someone approached.

He was big and broad and armored with blasters at both hips, Humanoid with very little hair and a lumpy, small head. Kanan sat up straighter, glaring a warning, but the newcomer ignored him to stand over Hera.

"You seen a ghost?"


*** *** End Part 1

 

I do love your Chopper. He basically rolled towards me through this text and blurted out "Waaa-waaa-waaaah-wawawawa-waaaah!!" into my ears. You write him pretty well.

I also like the gingerly way your Hera and your Kanan have with one another. One can see that their relationship is at its very beginning.

 

Opinionated droids Love your Hera/Kanan - they are getting acclimated as working partners - on the brink of perhaps feeling something else stirring, at least Kanan is.

Great details on the kinds of jobs Hera would be doing: stuff that pays but doesn't draw unwanted attention.

 

Thanks for reading! Chopper does steal the show and early Kanan and Hera together is a topic worth exploring.

I'm going to be a little quick on the draw by posting the second part same day, but it's done, so why not.

 

UNDERSTANDING​

by A.R. Davenport


*** *** Part 2


Hera lazily sat back, showing no sign of being intimidated by the being twice her size. "The spirits are in the stars."

The armored thug grumbled low. "You were supposed to be alone." He curled his lip at Kanan.

"Well, she's not." Kanan pushed his seat back and stood. This guy was one huge slab of muscle, but Kanan was just as tall and he was sure he was fast. He sneered back, making sure his own blaster was obvious.

Hera got up. "Let's go see your boss."

They left together. The thug did not give them his name, but led them down the street, but instead of the usual cantina or dark drinking hole where smuggling deals were made, he waved them into an antiques shop, stuffed with gilt furnishings and animal-shaped light fixtures and clear-plas fronted cabinets filled with more useless things than Kanan had ever seen in one place. The air inside was scented with cloying flowers and dust. A few elderly ladies looked up at them - - - two big burly males and a Twi'lek in pilot gear - - - in alarm, their antennae quivering. A short ochre-skinned proprietor in a tailored green suit came rushing down the aisle of bronze chairs shaped like anything but chairs and be-jeweled single-arm binary droids each making their own distinct motion.

"No, no, no! How many times do I have to tell you, in the back! Come in through the back! Somkes!" A younger-looking ochre-skinned clerk in a deep-purple suit ushered the frightened-looking customers to other end of the shop to look at a wall full of extremely ugly, textured paintings.

"In the back! In the back!" the proprietor, whose head barely came up to Kanan's waist, shooed them on with loud whispers. They went back behind a counter, through an office crammed with more junk and into a darkened storage room where Tornosk finally introduced himself.

"Our mutual friend has told me that you can get my merchandise to the Wimbori System without any . . . Imperial attention," he stated in a high-pitched voice. His thug took up a positon behind him.

"We can. If you're willing to pay for the service." Hera folded her arms over her chest.

Tornosk grimaced. "I was told that you were . . . . honest. Not just a group of pirates out to cheat me."

"We're not pirates." Kanan took a step forward but Hera waved him back. The thug behind Tornosk rubbed a fist with his other hand.

"We'll take your merchandise and deliver it to whatever coordinates you give us." Hera named a price. Kanan was sure she could have gotten more, but it was too late now. Tornosk grimaced, but Kanan did not think he was too put out by the price.

"All right. I think I can manage that. My partner will pay you when you deliver my merchandise - - "

Kanan stepped forward again. "Half now. Half when we deliver the goods."

Tornosk's grimace looked real this time, but he agreed.

Kanan and Tornosk's thug, whose name was Libin, were put in charge of moving the crates that were in the back room. Hera took the money and went back to the spaceport to get the ship ready. Tornosk never let up on a string of instructions while Kanan and Libin took his crates out to the lifter flats of the tow-speeder in back. His merchandise was fragile and precious. His partner would com him right away if anything was broken. They wouldn't be paid the other half if there was any problem at all. If they were caught by the Imperials they were on their own. Kanan ignored it though he would have loved to have put his fist in Tornosk's snout. A few years ago, he didn't think anyone could have stopped him, but he did not want to jeopardize the job for Hera.

When they were finally on their way, Libin, in the driver's seat, gave a great sigh and rolled his eyes to the sky. "I wish you people were pirates. He deserves to have that junk he sells stolen."

It turned out that Libin was not such a bad guy. He was a cousin of another of Tornosk's business partners and being big and tough, he provided the little dealer with some visible muscle, mostly for show, but necessary for some of the less legal antiquities that passed through the shop. By the time they got back to Docking Bay Eee-47 Libin was telling Kanan about the merits of body armor. Kanan thought it would just restrict movement and slow him down. And there wasn't any armor that wasn't unweildy that would stop a direct high-energy blaster hit anyway. But Libin showed him how light-weight his armor was and he wore his for other reasons. The tougher he looked, the less likely someone was willing to start something with him. Kanan was not sure he was right; from his experience the tougher he looked the more likely he was to get into a brawl. Or perhaps that was only when he was drinking? But Libin did have a point. Avoiding a fight was always best. And body armor could still deflect fists and glancing shots.

When they arrived, they got the crates unloaded and stowed on the Ghost quickly enough. Libin confided to Kanan that Tornosk and his partners were having trouble finding smugglers who didn't steal some of the cargo and that he could afford to pay a lot more if that did not happen with this or any future shipments. Kanan passed that on to Hera when they were ready to go.

"Good to know. And thanks for stepping in back there with getting us paid up front." She smoothly lifted off. Cargo leaving a port was not routinely checked and there was hardly any Imperial presence on Zokrim for now. The trick was delivering it in a place away from the inspectors and tariff collectors. With the Ghost's ability to mask her signature, to any Imperial scan she was always an empty ship coming in to pick something up, never one that was full, arriving with cargo to unload and be inspected by a tax collector or for contraband.

They left orbit; Hera set the coordinates. It was a short, simple trip. If everything went right they would be done by the end of the ship's day.

"Have you done this much? Smuggling, I mean?" Hera asked after they jumped into hyperspace.

In the co-pilot's seat, Kanan shrugged. "Oh, here and there." He did not want to admit some of the more unsavory characters he had worked with, the shady dealings that he had turned a blind eye to. But Hera did not seem to be interested in any details.

"Well, if you want to take over any of the business dealings, I won't mind a bit."

"Really?"

"Don't get me wrong, I know how to get paid, but I'm really in this for the flying." She fondly looked down at the controls. The cockpit had a clear hemisphere port that extended above and below; a pilot could imagine hurtling through space or hyperspace without a ship at all. The Ghost was as maneuverable as a fighter and responded to Hera's guidance instantly. Kanan was sure he had only experienced a fraction of what the Ghost could do in the short time he had been aboard and he looked forward to experiencing it. He admired the clean lines of the co-pilot's controls. Multiple sensors and proximity detectors, heavy shields, forward, top and side gun turrets, the excursion module in back, a navi-comp with a memory that covered every bit of charted space that he had ever heard about . . .

Kanan jolted upright and looked behind him. The nav station was empty.

"Something wrong?"

"Uh . . ." Kanan started to speak and then realized what a dumb idea it would be for him to ask Hera where Chopper was. Why did he care where that machine had gotten to?

No, he actually did care, just in case it was lying in wait to ambush him. He always wanted to know where Chopper was so he could make sure he was somewhere else. He got up.

"Uh, I just need to go in back for a minute," he said with an uncertain smile that he knew had to look foolish, like he was asking her permission.

Hera looked unimpressed. "Well, don't let me stop you." She turned back to her controls. Kanan went to the back of the cockpit. The door slid open and Kanan caught a glimpse of Chopper's cylindrical body zooming around a corner and out of sight with a fleeing 'waaa-waaa-waaa'.

Kanan looked back toward Hera but she hadn't noticed. The door to the cockpit slid shut behind him as he stepped cautiously into the corridor and listened. He heard only the usual hum of engines and air recyclers. Chopper was a noisy rattling astromech. Was it deliberately hiding from him? Why? At least when Chopper was attacking him or trying to run over his feet, Kanan knew where it was. Not knowing where Chopper was felt worse, like not knowing what direction an attack was coming from.

And now that he was up, he really did need to use the facilities. He locked the door while he did his business and looked both ways when he came out. He caught a glimpse of an orange top and a fleeting whir and 'waaa'. What was Chopper up to? Kanan was sure he wouldn't like it. He went to the cockpit. Whatever Chopper was planning, Kanan knew it would always be safer for him to be with Hera.

The job turned out to be a complete cake-run. Their destination world had a more noticeable Imperial presence in orbit, but it was not nearly as bad as other worlds in the Outer Rim. They had no trouble slipping by and landing at the coordinates that Tornosk had given them. It was on the night side of the planet and Tornosk's partner had droids and lifters waiting. He checked and scanned every crate, but he paid in full when he was satisfied and gave them a com, 'just in case we have another job for you.'

Kanan handed Hera the money and they lifted off toward one of the planet's spaceports. They were now just an empty ship with nothing on it to attract attention. After landing, they both headed down below to get some food before retiring.

"Kanan?" Hera looked back, green eyes curious.

Kanan had stopped by the door to his room. He did not know why.

"I'll just be a minute. I'll be right down." The door to his cabin slid shut, cutting off Hera's puzzled look. He moved cautiously into the small living space. Something was different. Kanan turned all around. It was a bare, utilitarian, gray box with ceiling lights, two basic bunks and storage space.

His eyes went down to one of the compartments under the lower bunk. He swiftly knelt to open it. The canvas case was still there. He touched it. The lightsaber concealed inside it was still there, but there was a bronze corner peeking out of the bulging pouch at the end of the case. The Jedi holocron his Master had given him the night before she died, when the clones that the Jedi had fought a war with turned on them and the Republic became an Empire. Someone had opened the case.

Kanan knew what had happened.

Chopper.

He stood up slowly and turned back toward the door. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply. The Force was there. He could not get rid of it if he tried. He raised his arm, hand outstretched toward the door. It suddenly hissed open.

"Waaah! Waa waa wawawawawah waaah-wah-waaaa!"

Eyes opening, Kanan crooked his fingers at the droid that had been lurking and listening in the corridor in a 'come here' gesture. Chopper shuddered in place.

"Waa-wa-wa-waaaah."

Kanan pulled his hand toward him and the droid came flying into his room, the door shutting behind it.

"Wah-wawawawawa wawawawaw wahwahwahwah!"

He lowered his head, turned his hand, palm upward and lifted. In his inner sight, he felt the Force lifting the droid upward.

"Wah-wah! Wawawawa-waaaaaa-waaa wawawawawawaaaa!"

Kanan remained still, arm outstretched, his mind deep in a calm that he had not touched in a long time. It was surprising that it came back to him as well as it did. Chopper's vocalizations died down. And the spark projected stayed in its compartment. When the room was silent again, he let his arm drop and Chopper crashed to the deck.

Spent, he staggered backward taking deep breaths. He was still badly out of practice, but the droid did not seem to notice. When he opened his eyes again, Chopper righted itself and backed away from him.

"Hera told me that you fought in the Clone War. For the Republic."

Chopper 'waa'ed an affirmative and shuddered back another half a step. Kanan crouched so he was eye to eye-sensor level with the astromech.

"So did I."

Chopper's head swiveled back and forth between him and the compartment where his lightsaber and holocron were stowed.

"Waaa-wawa-waaaaa?"

Kanan stood. "Hera knows about as much as you do. But she doesn't need to ask about it. Or go through my things."

Chopper surprised him with a long, embarrassed 'waaaaaaa'.

But maybe it wasn't that surprising. If Chopper had been a Republic droid then it knew about Jedi. Possibly Chopper had even fought with them. But Kanan did not feel like asking about it. That was the past. Kanan did not look back . . . . but . . . .

If having a past, a Jedi past, was what it took to get some respect from this diabolical machine, he would happily use it.

The door slid open.

"Kanan? I heard something fall down . . ." Hera stood there with worry in her eyes. It only increased when she saw him facing off with her droid. Her tone lowered threateningly.

"Chopper . . ."

Kanan raised a hand to stop her.

"It's all right, Hera." He gestured toward the astromech. Her brows rose in surprise and Kanan imagined a little bit of hope. He was pleased to confirm it.

"Chop here and I have come to an . . . . understanding."

"Waaa!"


<< o >><< o >><< END >><< o >><< o >>

Disclaimer: This story first posted on tf.n on 29-May-2016. All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to Disney/Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.

 

Well, I cannot blame you for being a brilliant "Rebel" area fan fic writer. Or my absent husband DarthUncle not for shutting my laptop off. So I will have a fanfic reading hangover tomorrow at work!



So I simply had to read the next above.

Kanan knew what had happened.

Chopper.

He stood up slowly and turned back toward the door. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply. The Force was there. He could not get rid of it if he tried. He raised his arm, hand outstretched toward the door. It suddenly hissed open.

Amazing, that Chopper´s actions remind him of being a Jedi and that he feels the Force again after so much denial & misery.

I also like that they sort of bounded after this event!

 

Fun and satisfying conclusion

Definitely all three make a good team

 

Such a cool little story! I loved the subtle hints that Hera and Kanan may become more than just co-workers. Nice nod to how Kanan starts to wear the body armor, too.

But the best part is Chopper - he steals the show here. Chopper seems protective of Hera and snoops around to make sure she hasn't brought trouble aboard, and once Kanan realizes that Chopper means no harm, they begin to work together - and the newly-formed crew of the Ghost begins to gel as a team.