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 o EN

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.