Chapter 10: Business Matters

Kanan sat in the hold of the Escape across from Proxy, leaning against a slim, wooden walking stick as he waited for Hera to land. Hera had jumped at the chance to pilot the ship and though he'd been uncomfortable offering her the position, when dealing with a smuggler like Vizago, Kanan couldn't be too careful. Knowing that broken-horned Devaronian, he probably had a droid specifically designated to look into the Escape's cockpit as it passed, just so Vizago would know beforehand just who he'd be dealing with. If the smuggler got even a whiff that Kanan wasn't exactly what he was supposed to be, a blind man and not fully capable of flying the ship himself, who knew what he'd do? Probably get nosey for blackmail, and then Kanan would have to take care of him, before Vizago sold the information to the wrong people.

No, it was better that someone with real working eyes flew, just to be on the safe side.

"We're approaching the coordinates you gave me," Hera told him over her shoulder, one of her lekku shifting with the movement. "I have to say, you keep some nice ships, Kanan. This one handles well too."

Her voice was hoarse and ragged, not that clear alto that was all hers, and memories of what happened earlier raged in his mind again, relentless and cruel. He could still feel the flare of heat and deadly intent in the Force, followed by the surge of sharp panic as if it had happened five minutes ago. It hadn't taken Kanan long to figure out what had happened, and he'd raced from his room with mind enough to take the sword he'd been working with. It was happening again. It was all that had filled his mind. That, and that if he wasn't fast enough, this time he might be too late.

Another sick throb of shame rolled through him.

He was a fool. What was he thinking, leaving the scythe out in the open where she might get to it? He hadn't done something so stupid since the last incident. How had he forgotten to keep it out of reach? He'd been so careful; how had it slipped his mind now?

When he'd found Hera, her body was already starting to fall slack, the fight leaving her, and he'd been terrified that this time he really had been too late. But he hadn't been. Over and over he replayed that moment in his mind. He hadn't been too late. He hadn't been too late. He hadn't been too late. He'd saved Hera, he'd removed the scythe and put it out of reach, where only he'd be able to get it. She'd taken great gasps of glorious life. It had been a long time since he'd felt such honest relief.

In retrospect, he should have known better than to think Hera would let things lie. Of course it was in her nature to get to the bottom of the situation, understand what had just happened to her. She'd almost died, she had every right.

But then she'd pushed too hard and said that one word, and he'd lost it.

Run.

Run run run run. Over and over like an ear worm, it dug into his skull and his conscience, and he'd panicked and seen red. His anger had flared to rage, the Force quick to adapt and change. Deep down, he couldn't begin to describe how thankful he was for Proxy's unanticipated interruption, because if they'd kept arguing, if he and Hera had kept butting heads, pushing the situation to higher and more dangerous extremes when he was like … like that ….

Kanan's hands tightened on the wood of his walking stick. It creaked.

How many times had he told Ezra off for losing his temper? For not controlling his emotions, even in stressful situations? Since when was the Master the one who lost so much control? For hours now he'd tried to pinpoint why he'd already been so close to the brink, so close that he'd almost toppled. Was it because he was worried about Ezra, and why he hadn't sent word yet? Or was it because of Hera? Her presence back in his life was the last thing he'd ever wanted, and within a day of close company he'd almost gotten her killed. Was that the reason?

Kanan didn't know. This was all a mess. Just one big … big mess.

His hold on his stick flexed again, and he was a little surprised that it didn't splinter in his grasp.

"Kanan?"

Banishing his thoughts, he lifted his head and reached out with his Force sense. At some point in his mental lapse, they'd landed. Not far away, Vizago and his droids waited for him. Proxy was already standing, waiting to get out, and Hera was staring at him.

"You alright?"

Though Hera didn't know, Kanan saw that her throat was already beginning to darken under the high line of her collar, despite the compress she'd kept pressed there since they'd left the base. She was the last person who should be asking if he was alright, not after what he'd let happen to her.

He'd told her nothing would happen to her.

"Yeah," he said, straightening up to stand, all the while forcing his shattered thoughts to pull themselves back together enough to orient his behavior into the one he always displayed when he dealt with Vizago. That was the part he had to play now. He needed to focus. "We shouldn't be here too long. We'll make the transaction, and then we'll head back."

Meditate. That's all he wanted to do right now. He just needed to get through the meeting without incident, then they could get back to the base. He'd meditate then. He'd meditate all day, outside in front of the temple if he had to. Anything to get his emotions back under control, without the crutch of the scythe.

Greasy unease sat at the bottom of his stomach. He wasn't sure that he could.

"Is it usually as easy as that?" Hera asked. Kanan shrugged, dragging his mind back again.

"Usually? It's a toss-up."

Hera unstrapped herself from the pilot's seat and retracted the hatch. Proxy climbed out and waited for Kanan to pass him the small hoard of weaponry he and Ezra had managed to loot from an Imperial supply ship heading for the Mid-Rim. Once the droid was out of the way with the merchandise, Kanan nodded for Hera to climb out as well. She lifted an incredulous eyebrow.

"You want me to come with you?"

"Vizago's expecting a blind man who can't get around by himself," Kanan explained. "Every time he's had to deal with me, Rider has been here as well to 'help me', and to oversee so that he doesn't try anything funny."

"But you could do that all on your own. I'd bet you could probably even pretend to be blind, and do it," Hera pointed out, clearly as uneasy about this as he was. This morning was still too raw for both of them, but like it or not, he needed her help.

"Yeah, but it wouldn't match the behavior I've built over the years with him," Kanan replied. "He's unerringly sharp at all the worst times, and if I show up by myself, without someone to 'help' me, he'll know something's up. So, I need someone, and congratulations. You're it. That's why I was trying to send Proxy alone, earlier."

"What would you have done if I'd decided to stay back at your base?" she asked blandly. Despite his blindfold, his eyebrows must have spoken loudly enough because she sighed, relenting. They both knew she wouldn't have stayed. "You know, you could have asked first."

"What if I ask nicely now?"

It was like he was some damn pendulum recently. One moment he was cool and in control, the next he'd lost it, and ever since Hera had stepped back into his life, his old habits were coming out again and he was flirting. Kanan didn't flirt, not unless it got something they needed, but this had just slipped out. It was like he was back on Gorse, smooth-talking his way into Hera's good graces. He wasn't playing that gunslinger right now. He hadn't been that gunslinger in years.

But why was he acting like this?

It was a question for another time. For now, he pushed his muddled thoughts aside and focused on what he needed to be and what he needed to do. He needed to work with Hera and the gunslinger persona made things easier, so he'd use it. If the sudden shift in his mood caught her, Hera didn't let on although he could sense her reluctant surprise in the Force. Again she surprised him by playing along.

"Well, if you ask nicely, I suppose I can't just let a blind man walk into the wilderness alone, can I?"

"You're too kind," he muttered sarcastically before again gesturing for her to climb out. "Now help the blind man out, why don't you?"

She snorted at him softly, and the thought that it was an adorable little snort slipped across his mind, unbidden. He was thankful his eyes were hidden from sight because he rolled them, chastising himself. He was a grown man and a master assassin. He was a former Jedi, and a formidable Force user. How was it that a woman – this woman – could get under his skin like this when no one but Ezra, Maz, or the Empire had been able to in years?

Her hand felt warm and firm as she helped him out of the Escape, then down onto the ground. Though he didn't know how she could bare to touch him after this morning, once on the ground he lifted his elbow in her direction, and she led him forward with that firm hold. It must be her professionalism. He had to admit that, right now, it was lightyears better than his own.

"Just remember," he murmured as they began approaching Vizago. "Pretend I can't see. I'll handle everything else."

"I know how to act, Kanan. I've played this game for a time or two before, you know. Now hush, before I accidentally let you trip on a rock."

He couldn't stop the small smirk that pulled at his lips when faced with her sass, but he pulled it off the closer they came to the smuggler. In the Force he could see that the Devaronian was intrigued by his presence, and Hera's assistance, but he didn't say anything until they'd stopped several feet ahead of him.

"He's in front of you," Hera told him as she let his arm go, staying close by, and Kanan aimed his face blindly in Vizago's general direction.

"Vizago."

"Jarrus! A rare pleasure to see you, be assured," Vizago told him with his thickly accented Basic. "I'm surprised your boy isn't here."

Now that they were here and doing this, Kanan's mind sharpened and cleared with focus, and he watched Vizago in the Force. He often didn't deal directly with the smuggler, since that was Ezra's job, and now he remembered why he'd delegated the duty. Doing business with this Devaronian often left him feeling like he'd been covered in slime. It was never a pleasant experience.

"He's busy," Kanan said, leaning on his walking stick. "I'm making the transaction."

"Clearly," the smuggler replied with mock pleasantness. His eyes turned to Hera. "And just who is this lovely woman?" Vizago looked Hera over with obvious interest, interest Kanan found he did not appreciate. "Perhaps an asset to trade with? I don't usually deal in slaves, but I do know someone who does. I can get you in contact with him, if you'd like."

"No," Kanan said shortly, and Hera shifted beside him, unphased and nothing but cool confidence.

"I'm a new business partner," Hera told the smuggler, giving nothing away as she placed a hand on her hip. "Just learning his side of the business."

"I see," Vizago said with a laugh. "Apologies. Hopefully you have more a mind for business than he does. Without that son of his, he'd get swindled. I should know."

A strange amalgam of ice and heat writhed in Kanan's gut at the casual implication of Ezra. Hera was intelligent, and her eyes were sharp as knives. With all the accidental evidence that was flying around them, he was sure that she'd eventually work out an accurate picture of Ezra, despite everything Kanan had done to the contrary. Hera had already unearthed more than Kanan had ever wanted her to find out, and now this smuggler was about to let another thing slip, and this was something a little too close to home.

But he couldn't let his agitation show. The smuggler would take it and run a mile. He'd just have to accept that there was only so much he'd be able to control in this situation, and he'd mitigate the damage later.

"I can be pretty sharp," Hera replied. "I believe we have something you want."

"Direct. I like her," Vizago said with a grin in her direction, even though his words had been meant for Kanan. It made him roll his eyes under the blindfold. It was another reason why he didn't enjoy working with this smuggler. Just because Kanan was blind, he often tried to get away with more than he should.

"Vizago," he said calmly. "I may not have eyes, but even I know your eyes are wandering. Now are we going to make the deal, or not?"

"Yes, yes," the Devaronian sighed, crossing his arms. "Where are they?"

Kanan lifted his hand and waved Proxy forward, and the droid pushed the stolen weapons over to where Vizago's droids waited, and they began checking inventory. "They were right where you'd said they'd be. That's all there was."

Vizago looked over his shoulder and waited for his droids to give him confirmation. Proxy walked back to Kanan and stood beside Hera, the droid's usually cheerful countenance unreadable. Kanan turned his head so that an ear was facing the Devaronian, as if intensely listening, even as he watched in the Force. A droid nodded. Vizago turned to them with a smile.

"Indeed. As always, I am impressed with your ability to procure," the smuggler said as he clicked credits against each other before handing them over to Hera. "As promised."

Hera counted them, then took his arm and placed the credits in his upturned hand. Kanan pretended to count the money as he pressed them across his fingers for show, and then hid them away under his cloak. He turned again in Vizago's general direction. "If that's all, me and my associate will be on our way."

"Actually, there is something."

That caught both his and Hera's attention, and though Kanan was reluctant to continue this charade, work was work, and money was money. He and Ezra weren't exactly hurting for it right now, but the way things were heading with both the Empire and the Rebellion wanting a piece of them, it might be wise to gather as much income as possible before going to ground later. Hera tapped on his hand, as if that indicated some quiet communication between them and wasn't something she was clearly making up for show. Kanan turned his face to Vizago.

"I'm listening."

"I hear word that the Empire is working on some sort of prototype, one which is being moved from the production facility here on Lothal to the Core." It was all Kanan could do not to frown. He'd tried to keep the fact that they were on Lothal quiet too, but it was as if every secret he had was being revealed to Hera despite all of his efforts. He wasn't stupid. What was the Force up to?

"What about it?" Kanan asked, and Vizago shrugged.

"I want it. As I hear, a certain Captain Reese Mitchell will escort this prototype. If you can get it for me, I will see to it that you are well paid."

"What does this prototype do?" Hera asked, and Vizago shrugged again.

"It explodes. It's a prototype for a new grenade the Empire has been working on, and that's about all that's relevant," he replied ambiguously. "I don't ask too many questions, and neither should you."

Kanan checked the Devaronian's Force aura, and though there was a great deal there that bespoke many lies and deceits, there was no more than the usual amount rolling off of him now, and that was telling enough. If he could get this thing for Vizago, then he was confident that he'd be adequately paid.

"When do you want it by?"

"The prototype is supposed to head for the Core sometime in the next few days, so that should be your answer."

"That doesn't exactly give us a lot of time," Kanan pointed out.

"That's your problem to deal with, not mine. Besides, you have new help." That said, Vizago waved to the droids behind him to take away the weapons Kanan had just provided, now that the business transaction was over. "Just get me the weapon."

"We'll be in touch," Hera said with a cool smile as she took Kanan's arm again and began to lead him away.

"As always, a pleasure doing business with you, Jarrus!"

"I can't say the same," he muttered under his breath, but he lifted a hand in the air and let Vizago make of it whatever he wanted. "Let's get out of here."

"So that's the sort of work you and your partner do in your off time?" Hera mused as she looked back over her shoulder for a moment. "Can't say it's a whole lot different from what we do for money."

"What? The Rebellion doesn't foot the bills?"

"Oh, turnabout. Ha-ha."

Kanan again just couldn't stop his smirk, and beside him he saw Hera do the same.

After boarding the Escape, Hera had them in the air and away in no time. He turned to Proxy. "You know anything about this Captain Reese Mitchell?"

"Not much," Proxy answered before he accessed his internal memory and his photoreceptors flashed. Slowly the appearance of Proxy faded away, and was replaced with the image of a man in middle age dressed in an Imperial uniform with manicured hair, a fit body, and a certain polish which suggested to Kanan that this man took efforts to maintain his image. The voice that came out of the projection Proxy was impersonating was suave, and Kanan wondered if Mitchell practiced that too. "But I have some older data which might be of use."

The Escape jerked before its flightpath was corrected, and they both saw Hera casting a tense eye back at them.

"Sorry. Just wasn't expecting an Imperial to appear in the back of our ship. That's usually not a good sign."

"It's only me, Captain Syndulla," Proxy replied in his normal voice, though the holoprojection around him didn't fade. "I only take on the appearance of those I'm impersonating. I do not become them. I'm merely accessing archived information, and I pose no threat."

"Right." She faced forward again, intent on the flight. "I kind of figured that out earlier. Thanks though, Proxy."

"You're welcome, Captain Syndulla," Proxy replied, and the image of Reese Mitchell smiled. Kanan rolled his eyes at the polite droid, but wasn't surprised. Hera was charming. Of course she'd charm even his droid.

"Prox, what have you got for me."

Proxy looked at him again, and the voice that came out of him was Reese Mitchell's once more. "Captain Reese Mitchell. Enlisted in the Imperial Academy shortly after the rise of the Empire and specializes in weapons engineering. His advancement through the ranks has indicated nothing special and, according to my records, he has had a position at the Lothal development facility for the last year."

"Personal information?" Kanan prompted. "Anything we could use to figure out how we're going to get this bomb?"

"Nothing logged, Kanan. He has had one reprimand in the last five years for excessive drinking, but that's all the information I have access to."

The holoprojection of the Imperial captain faded away with a flicker, and Proxy looked down at his mechanical hands and his colored energy lines with relief. Kanan suspected the droid had been worried that he might get stuck again, like he had earlier today. It was happening more often lately. There was only so much maintenance he and Ezra could do for him. If they wanted to do more, they'd have to find a better mechanic, one who wouldn't ask why they had a very rare and sophisticated droid.

"Looks like you're going to need more information, if you're going to take Vizago up on his job," Hera commented from her seat. "Hang on, we're about to land."

As always, Kanan was impressed with her skill. He hardly felt the landing at all. They disembarked, and the chilly air was a familiar relief to the warmer region they'd met Vizago at. In the distance, the equally familiar shape of the monolithic Lothal temple stood like a sentry, and a reminder to his Force sense.

He began unwinding his blindfold and pulling the cloak from his shoulders, before hopped off the edge of the Escape. Behind him Proxy followed, though Hera took her time. Her reluctance to enter the temple barracks again was clear in the Force, and he looked back at her, raising an eyebrow while his gut tightened. The events of this morning flared again in his mind. He wouldn't force her to come back in, but it would be problematic if she insisted on staying out here.

"You coming?"

Her answer was slow, but eventually she said, "So long as nothing tries to kill me again." She hopped off the Escape down next to him, and though he could feel her reluctance, she followed into the tunnel and back into the base. Reflexively, he used his Force sense to check that there were no intruders. There were none, there never were, but he was relieved none-the-less. After how this week was going, who knew what other curveballs he'd be thrown? Kanan activated the lights before dropping his disguise on a table.

"Proxy, dig up what you can on Mitchell. Hera, if you'd like to help, I wouldn't have any objections."

He caught the way her eyes drifted up to the ceiling, where his scythe hung safely out of reach, but she shrugged after a moment.

"It'll give me something to do. I guess I could spare a hand." She looked at him. "What are you going to do?"

He still wanted to meditate, but decided that for now it could wait. Instead, Kanan swiped up a very specific comlink from one of the tables, one he used to get in contact with a very specific person. "Pursuing other avenues for information. I'll be back soon." He paused before leaving and turned his blind eyes to Hera. "You'll be safe. I promise."

He didn't miss the way she took a long breath before slowly letting it out and nodding. Proxy looked at her.

"Don't worry, Captain Syndulla. While Kanan is away, I will make sure you encounter no threats."

Hera's lips pulled up, and her eyes crinkled at the side. "Alright. Thank you, and Proxy. Call me Hera."

Reassured by the amusement and reluctant trust in Hera, Kanan left them to their research before heading for the outlook outside.

"That's all you know?"

"As I said, that's all I know," the voice told him over the comlink, reluctant and annoyed as it always was. "It's a well-known fact that Mitchell has a certain taste for pomp. He's been talking about the gala for days now, and I suspect that in his eyes, he sees it as his final huzzah before he heads back to civilization. He'll be there."

Kanan breathed through his nose and massaged his blind eyes as he thought. Plans began piecing themselves together to form the best option in his mind. "I see."

"Is there anything else? Friend?"

The way the voice on the comlink drolled the word 'friend', made it clear that Kanan's informant thought of himself as anything but.

"Yes," Kanan replied. "Do you know anything about the Inquisitors in the sector?"

The sigh on the other end of the comlink was audible, and it caused the small speaker in his hand to crackle. "I thought you might ask about them."

"Them?"

"Yes, there's two of them. Didn't you know? I was under the impression that you and your protégé had met them both. The male is the Grand Inquisitor, a Pau'an."

"He and I have met," Kanan grumbled, recalling the yellow-eyed Red Blade, his smug pride, and his offer. "The other?"

"A Mirialan woman who calls herself the Seventh Sister."

Thinking back, he remembered that Hera had destroyed a lift to stop a Red Blade. It must have been this Seventh Sister. Just wonderful. Two Inquisitors after him, and one of them, he knew, was exceedingly dangerous.

"What do they know?"

"Not much," his informant replied, "but if I were you, I would lie low. They know you've been in the Lothal sector recently. The information which lured you out could only be found in one place. You're slipping."

If Kanan could give an appropriate glare through the comlink, and make the man on the other end consider the next words he said very carefully, he would. Instead, he said with a cold tone, "Just let me know if you find anything else. Friend."

"Of course," his informant replied smoothly before the comlink went dead.

Kanan flicked it off and held the small device in his hand tightly. Slipping. Had he been slipping? Given who was telling him this, he wanted to vehemently deny it, but now that he looked back on the series of events which had led him to where he was now … how hadn't he noticed? Why hadn't he cross-checked the data he and Ezra had gotten their hands on? Questioned it? Inquired about it, like he should have? Like he always told Ezra he should do? Ezra had even told him that something felt wrong about all of it. He'd felt it himself.

And yet, he'd ignored it. All he'd been able to think about was the mission. The kill. The heat in his scythe had been stifling. Thinking back, he almost felt like his mind had been fogged, a bit like it had this morning when he'd forgotten his scythe out in the open.

Perhaps Kallus was right? Maybe he was slipping.

Kanan ran a hand through his hair. Not now. Now wasn't the time to think about anything like that. This new mission was his focus right now, and frankly, he looked forward to it for the distraction it would provide. Even if, according to the best plan he could come up with, the mission's success would be higher if he didn't do it alone.

And of course, as the Force would have it, Hera would be the ideal partner.

Kanan cast his mind out to the Force glumly, waiting to see if it would react, but it was only quiet and filled with potential. With promise. He shook his head and pocketed the comlink before heading back inside. Hera and Proxy were huddled around the workstation, and as he entered the Twi'lek pushed off the chair she'd been leaning against. Proxy faced him as well.

"Kanan, Rider has sent a message."

The tightness lingering at the pit of his heart eased. Logically he knew Ezra could take care of himself, but still, word from his apprentice brought about a certain type of relief he hadn't been able to convince himself of on his own.

"What did he say?"

"That he and my crew would meet us in a week, at an abandoned station we use whenever we're separated and need to reconvene. I can get back to my crew, and Rider will come back to you," Hera replied as she handed him a holopad, pausing for a moment as if realizing she was giving him something he shouldn't be able to read.

"I can read it," he told her, taking the small tablet in his hand and scanned the data. Only Ezra knew the right codes to give Maz to send to him, and he doubted Hera's crew could have forced him to send this. It read like him too.

"It looks like you're stuck with me until then."

"More like you're stuck with me. Again, I want to be here," Hera said. "Besides, I'd have left on my own when it was time." Kanan lifted an eyebrow at the Twi'lek woman, but said nothing. That would have been something to see. She wouldn't have succeeded escaping if that had been the case, but he wondered how far she would've gotten before he stopped her.

If he stopped her at all.

"Since you're planning on staying, you can earn your keep," Kanan told her. "We'll be getting this prototype Vizago wants. If you'd please, I'd appreciate your help." He grinned at her. "See, I can ask nicely."

Hera's eyes narrowed and she put a hand on her hip. "If you're planning on assassinating Mitchell to get this prototype, count me out."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not planning on assassinating him, not for something like this."

"Then what do you want my help for?"

"This mission is going to take a certain level of skill and sophistication," he replied. "I know you've got both in spades."

"Alright," she said after a moment. "I'll bite. What are you thinking?"

"I don't have a crew and my usual partner is clearly not here," Kanan explained. "And for the best chance of success, this is a two-person operation. An informant of mine has told me where Mitchell will be in a few days before he leaves for the Core. It's then that we'll need to work together to steal this prototype."

"It wouldn't be the first time we've worked together," she muttered, a lekku shifting over her shoulder. He was glad his blind eyes gave nothing of his attentiveness in the Force to that small, subtle movement that kept snagging his attention. "And I've done a fair amount of thieving in my day. Doesn't sound too hard."

Kanan was sure that would be the epitaph that rested on his grave, one day.

He expected the next words that slipped from his mouth to come out with some difficulty, but they sailed out smooth as silk.

"How do you feel about dancing?"

Hera stared at him as if he'd admitted he liked to strip and walk around naked out in the frigid Lothal air outside.

"Dancing?"

"I've been told the target enjoys social affairs, and intends on attending a gala before he heads to the Core with the prototype." He paused before giving her a small, reluctant smirk. "I was thinking about crashing it, but it would look odd if I went alone without a lovely date by my side."

Hera's eyebrows rose, but then a slow smile slipped onto her lips, and Kanan did his best not to soak it in or notice her natural beauty or the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

He failed. On all accounts.

"You know, I've been told I'm not half-bad on my feet, and I've never been to a gala before." Her smile twitched. "I'll need to go shopping though. I didn't exactly pack for a party when I came here, and I doubt that this will do." She gestured to her flight suit, and it was only then that he realized that she was right. Hera would need to dress the part, and so would he. That detail hadn't even crossed his mind. She was already more than beautiful in her flight suit. Her in an evening dress?

Kanan's traitorous heart fluttered, and the Reaper in him simmered with disgust and disappointment.

Kallus might actually be right. He was slipping.

A/N: A mellow chapter, but I hope you liked it. Poor Kanan's all over the place and just can't seem to get steady, but with Hera maybe it'll be okay? Who knows? Anyway, we finally get a hint of Kallus here, which is pretty exciting! As of now I'm undecided how much of a role he's going to take in Blackbird, but we'll see how it all pans out.

The next couple of chapters, as I'm sure you've worked out by now, are going to be mission chapters. Though it's tempting to lead with the Kanera chapter I have in store, the crew is getting theirs first. Now, who wants to guess what happens when a Mando, a Lasat, a Jedi Padawan and a nexu have a mission together? I imagine it will be … explosive.