TW for seizures and just overall being really, really freaking sick.
Hera sat back in the pilot's seat, going over the information from Sabine for what had to be the hundredth time since she'd received it. Sabine was right about their window of opportunity being small - almost miniscule, but Hera knew that if any ship had a chance to get through, it was hers.
Deciding that there was nothing more that she could glean from the message, Hera shut off the holo and leaned back in her chair. It wasn't long before she found herself yawning and rubbing the fatigue from her eyes. It had been a long past few days. Hell, it had been a long past few months. But she supposed that it was to be expected, given the circumstances. This was how life had been ever since she was a little girl. Thrawn was right about one thing that during that one mission back on Ryloth: war was all she'd ever known. And thinking back on it all, Hera couldn't remember having a truly restful night's sleep since her early childhood - back in those precious few years she in which she lived blissfully unaware of the atrocities and death that surrounded her and her people. Back when she was unaware and didn't feel absolutely compelled to fight back against the tyranny that enveloped their existences. Before she lived her life fighting in the hopes that one day she and those she loved would know what peace felt like. Living in the hope that one day, they wouldn't have to sneak through a military blockade in the wee hours of the morning just to get medical care for a sick kid. Ever since she had become aware, every second of every night was full of nightmares and anxiety, being constantly on edge and ready to jump up in a minute's notice. A good night's sleep was a luxury she simply couldn't afford when they lived under the constant threat of attack. No, when you dedicate your life to fighting back, to fighting for hope, sleep just wasn't in the cards.
Hera was ripped from her thoughts by the slight jolt of The Ghost that signified that they had come out of hyperspace. Given their trajectory, she supposed that they were now sitting just outside of Mandalore's orbital range. It was now or never. Hera took a deep breath and gripped the controls of the Ghost with an anxious vigor. The familiar curve of the handles gave her a surge of confidence like no other. It was refreshing, given the circumstances.
Looking around, Hera noted the various landmarks Sabine had given to ensure their proper placement. Everything seemed right so far, and no Imperials seemed to be able to detect their presence. Now all there was to do was wait. Powering down as many systems as possible to keep them off the radars, Hera cautiously shifted the Ghost into idle, the ferocious roaring of her engines quieting into a gentle purr. Hopefully they would be safe there until their opportunity to move in arose.
For the next few, pain-staking minutes, she watched from a distance as the patrol ships lazily passed. One after another, the moved to dock and launch with a practiced ease that came with every Imperial operation. It was always so predictably perfect. Therein lay their weakness. She studied them with a calculated vigilance, taking note of any and every irregularity or blind spot she could use to their advantage if needed.
The seconds wore down, until, finally, the sweet spot that Sabine had promised was revealed. As the patrolling TIES disbursed to change guard, their blind spots aligned for mere seconds. Perhaps this was the Empire getting sloppy. She certainly wouldn't put it past them to think themselves so indestructible that they would overlook such a blindspot, believing that no one would be bold or intelligent enough to notice. Or perhaps it was a sign of poor leadership in this sector. Either way, they had severely underestimated her and her crew, and getting through was almost too easy.
Hera took a deep breath, then activated the accelerator. The shift between stationary and speed was sudden and smooth as The Ghost burst forwards with a momentum that pushed her back against her seat. She kept her hands planted firmly on the controls, her eyes refusing to move anywhere but forwards. Moving faster than she possibly ever had before, she maneuvered through the slim window of opportunity that they had been gifted and headed towards the planet's surface, looking back only to ensure that no Imperials had caught on to their trail.
Like she said, almost too easy.
Speeding through the layers of atmosphere, Hera kept her eyes peeled for any stray TIES, but Sabine's tip had held true. They seemed to be in the clear. If the Empire ever did learn of their penetration of the defenses, hopefully it would teach them not to underestimate the capabilities of her crew.
With the immediate danger gone, Hera let out a heavy sigh of relief, reduced speed, and began their descent towards the planet's surface, happy to see the medical transport already in sight.
However, the small amount of peace didn't last.
It wasn't a full minute into the descent that Zeb burst into the cockpit, fear plastered across his face and gripping the walls as if he were about to fall over.
"Hera! It's happening again!" he all but screamed at her.
Her heart sank to her feet, her mind already knowing what he meant, but refusing to accept it. "What do you mean?!"
"'E's seizing, Hera! It's bad! It sounds like 'e's choking!"
Hera's heart began furiously pounding in her chest. She knew that the possibility of Ezra's airway being blocked during a seizure was not out of the cards, but she had no way to verify the hunch herself without leaving the cockpit and subsequently letting them all plummet to their doom. Her biggest priority at the moment was getting them on the ground, but now she wasn't certain that Ezra hold out for that long without her help.
Hera's gaze flitted between the ground and Zeb, feeling entirely unsure of what to do next. They were only minutes away from their goal, but those minutes had just become even more critical. Why did this have to happen now?
Zeb's voice softened slightly, as if he could sense her struggle from across the room. "I already 'ad Chop start a timer, but I'm not sure what else to do."
Hera gulped, trying to think of how to best go forwards. She supposed the most viable option was to instruct Zeb on how to care for Ezra without causing more harm to him.
She sighed. "Zeb, I need you to listen to me…"
But before she could continue, Kanan's terrified voice rang through the air for the second time that day.
"No... no. NO! NO, EZRA!"
The sheer emotional weight behind his words made Hera jump in her seat. Pulling out her com, she had to refrain from screaming into it herself.
"Kanan?! What's going on?!"
Her com unit crackled to life, the panicked gasps of her lover transmitting frighteningly loud and clear.
"He stopped breathing! Hera... Hera he's slipping away! Please, you have to help him! Please..." his last plead barely above a whisper.
Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. Ezra was dying, and she couldn't do a thing about it. Her breath was now coming in short gasps as she desperately tried to repress the oncoming sobs.
They were so close.
Fixing her eyes firmly on the ground below, Hera attempted to compose herself. If not for herself, then for her crew. Her family. Her kid. This wasn't over yet. There was still a chance.
"Zeb, do you know CPR?" she asked, her knuckles white under her pilot's gloves.
The soldier seemed to catch her drift fairly quickly, straightening himself as if in some form of preparation. "I can do chest compressions."
"Good. Start. Now," she commanded, "I'm gonna get us on the ground. Just try to get him breathing again."
Zeb nodded and rushed back towards the living quarters, not that Hera saw anyways. The entirety of her focus was now on getting them onto the ground and into that medical transport. If she could just get Ezra there, then everything was going to be alright for them. The medics would get Ezra breathing and well, and everything would go back to normal. Or at least that's what she had to tell herself.
Hera let herself speed up as much as she possibly could without putting them in danger of a landing that was perhaps a bit too exciting. Every second counted now. She knew that there was only so much time the human brain could go without oxygen without sustaining irreparable damage, and she wasn't going to let Ezra go through that. Not if she could help it.
As the ground continued to approach, her com crackled to life again, the voice of Zeb coming through without bothering with pleasantries. "Hera, it's not working!" The desperation in his voice was as clear as it was heavy.
Hera didn't respond at first. Instead, she pulled up on the controls, the ground below ever so close. Ever so taunting.
"Just keep going, Zeb," she insisted with a lot more confidence than she felt. "I've almost got us to the ground. Have Chop hook him up to an oxygen mask if he can find one in the meantime."
This was it. They were almost there.
As she closed in on the landing zone, Hera began to plead aloud to whoever would listen.
"Please, please please please please Ezra. Please Ezra, please. Don't let go yet. Don't take him from us yet."
Little did she know, back in the bunk area, Kanan was conducting a similar ritual.
"Come on, kid. Don't you do this to us now!"
As soon as the landing gear grazed the ground, Hera slammed the hatch release and fled the cockpit. Jumping the last few feet between the ramp and the ground, unwilling to wait for the ramp to finish extending, she was greeted by a small group of Mandalorian medics. In the back of her mind, Hera was vaguely aware of the medics asking precursory questions, but there was no time. She just cried out.
"We need a gurney! Now! He's stopped breathing!" Hera's voice cracked as she screamed. She didn't remember starting to cry, but she could feel the slow tears beginning to leak down her cheeks one by one as she watched medical workers exchanged worried glances with one another as they scrambled into action, bringing supplies upon precious supplies into her ship and her home.
Wiping the few, renegade tears from her cheeks, she swiftly gathered herself and matched pace with the med team, leading them into the living quarters. Hera wasted no time shooing out Zeb in order to make more room for the medics. It was then that she got her first good look at Ezra since they had spoken to Sabine. Another tear fell helplessly from her eye. His skin was frighteningly pale and his lips were beginning to develop a sickly blue tint. The sight before her was a far cry from the typical bubbly, energetic and eager Ezra that they had known and loved for years. The boy that laid there was a cruel parody of the child they had rescued from Lothal all those years ago - taunting them with a loss they weren't ready to suffer.
The medics shuffled around him, poking and prodding and looking grim. She could hear them murmuring to one another in a lingo she didn't quite understand.
"Continue chest compressions, get me an ambu bag ready," one said authoritatively to another.
The next few moments moved in slow-motion, as Hera watched tool after tool be attached to her Ezra in a desperate attempt to get him to take a breath. She soon found herself being guided out of the room and into the hall by a set of large, firm hands which encouraged her to sit. So she did. Right next to Kanan, who looked like his world was ending.
She didn't say a word the whole time, she just wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let themselves rock back and forth ever so slightly. All the while, she pretended to ignore the quiet chant of "not again" that Kanan kept repeating under his breath.
It felt like hours had passed before she heard anything of use from the room besides them.
"We got a pulse, signs of life. Let's get him on oxygen and into the center stat."
Hera was sure that she had never heard sweeter words. Kanan, who had long since gone silent, let out something between a sob and a joyous shout. It wasn't perfect, but thank the stars and praise the Force their boy was back with them.
All hope was not lost.
And as she watched them wheel her baby away, off to an uncertain future, she couldn't help the words that spilled from her lips.
"Oh Ezra…"
A/N: GUYS I'M ALIVE. I'M SICK BUT I'M ALIVE. Sorry for the mega ultra long wait. Things have been INSANE. But it's okay! All this being said, it's four AM and I did not really give this a thorough read-through before posting, so please let me know if anything doesn't make sense. While you're at it up here on the interwebs ya'll should hit a girl up on that tumblr mrntanksart and that instagram mrntanks. And as always, thank you so much for reading, I love hearing your guys thoughts and opinions and please consider liking, favoriting, kudosing, bookmarking, or whatever you can if you like the story! I hope you're all having wonderful days! Mwah!