Hera was quiet on the flight back to her father's house. Fen failed to notice, lost in the depths of her power, exalting in her renewed strength. She reached out, sensing the life that lurked unseen below as the grass seas of Ryloth speed beneath them. Up here, untethered by the worries of the world, she was free. Fen could have lived in that moment forever, but even as she sat in the stillness, her anger continued to dim and reality returned with icy fingers down her spine. Old teachings, deeply ingrained whispered in the back of her mind. You weren't supposed to do that. She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought. There is no emotion. There is peace. None of what she had done had been peaceful, none of it emotionless. She hadn't even spared a thought before killing four people. Stormtroopers perhaps, but people nonetheless.

She searched for something, anything else to distract her. "Do you wanna go to the medbay when we get back?" Fen broke the silence, willing the voices in her head away, focusing on Hera's pain, flickering brightly in the Force.

"No." Hera looked over at Fen, managing a smile. "I think I'm alright." How many white lays already lay between them like a wall? An hour previously she would have been willing to just let it pass, but she could feel the truth now. Fen shook her head.

"You're not alright, I can see it." She paused and smiled, reveling in the knowledge she possessed. "I can also tell you're lying."

Hera passed a hand briefly over her stomach and sighed. "It's not that bad, it might need a bacta patch." Fen nodded, and in a few moment, had found one in the ship's supplies, even as Hera waved her off. "I'll do it later."

Fen could think of no response for this. "Suit yourself." She shrugged and slipped back into her seat. The silence resumed.

When they landed in the early twilight, the hanger bay was mercifully empty, spotlights illuminating the landing pad where the rebel's ship had been. Cham Syndulla's mission, whatever it had been, was clearly still ongoing. Footsteps resounding in the stillness, they walked through empty halls. When they reached Hera's room, Fen hesitated, newfound confidence warring with fear. She hesitated long enough for Hera to gesture her inside.

As they both sat down on Hera's bed, Fen noticed her flinching, hand moving for a moment to her stomach before returning to the bed. She waved the bacta patch in Hera's face. Fen's heart rate accelerated violently as Hera slowly took off her shirt. It was an odd reaction for a girl who had seen a hundred other slaves naked before. Feeling a flush against her cheeks, she focused very closely on preparing the bacta patch before moving her eyes directly to Hera's stomach. Fen hissed at the sight of the dark purple-green bruise that covered much of the space.

With a slightly shaking hand, Fen pushed against Hera's muscular shoulder to get her to lie down. She removed her hand quickly as Hera complied and her heart rate spiked again. When had been the last time she had reached out to someone without the looming threat of violence? Carefully, Fen laid the bacta patch across Hera's stomach, trying not to touch any of her skin with her bare hands. Slowly, she moved back, unable to look up and meet Hera's gaze, fearful her confusion would show on her face.

"Is that better?" She managed the glance up to Hera's face, trying to keep her voice neutral. Hera nodded and Fen stood, making her way to the door, trying not to run, back to the other room, back to the thoughts that whispered to her in the dark corners of her mind. Her heart told her to pause, to look back. She quashed the sensation. Whatever this feeling was, she was sure Hera could not share it. Who would want a broken thing like you? If Hera wanted her to stay, she would say something. She did not. Fen left, making the short trip back to the neighbouring room, balling her fists and trying to control her disappointment.

She stood alone in the space, eyes closed until the door hissed shut, locking automatically. That sound alone was enough to send fear racing through her body, locking her in place like a statue. It felt only natural to reach for the warm center of rage within, rage that melted her fear like fire. Teachings told her it was wrong. She knew, even as she reached for it, but it didn't feel wrong. It felt like everything she wanted. It felt like freedom.

"You have a gift for sensing emotion." Her master had told her once, an eon ago. "You must be careful to keep yourself separate from the feelings of others, and from the feeling you yourself have." How studiously Fen had nodded at that, how carefully she had applied his teachings. How little had any of it helped when it really mattered?

"The Jedi are gone." She whispered to herself, arms wrapped around her stomach as she paced the length of the borrowed room. Then I am alone was the next thought, too terrible to be voiced out loud. There was still so much she had wanted to learn, had needed to learn. So much had been taken from her. The anger was so easy to lean against, the strength so tempting.

The Jedi had abandoned her to her fate, so what did she even care that they were gone? Had they ever cared for her? Should she bother to listen to their teachings? There is no passion, there is serenity. Why was it that the darkness was all that answered her?

"Maybe…" She muttered, thinking hard as she hoisted herself up onto the bed, folding her legs beneath her. With a routine long ingrained, she began to clear herself of feelings. Or tried to. She took a deep breath. There is no chaos there is harmony. She had to be empty to be a vessel for the Force, but emotions, and the memories behind them clung to her like vines. The harder she pulled against them, the tighter they grow. Her neck felt as though it were burning. She was choking. Fen could almost feel the cold metal on her neck, iron tang of blood in her mouth, other people's hands, rough against her skin. She recoiled from the memories, fast as steam rising from hot metal and cold water.

She hit the bed, breath trembling in her throat, on the verge of tears. Again the anger beckoned her. Use it, some part of her yearned for this, was desperate to be free, free of her fear, of these imaginary shackles that still held her. Another voice pleaded: you can't, there must be another way!

Already, the rage was growing roots inside of her; she tried to pull, to push it out, but even as she did so, sweat beading on her brow, she felt the Force fading. Fear weakened her resolve, but it vanished in a rush, leaving her feeling more like a husk than a vessel. Trembling, she sat up, empty of the Force once again. Blind and numb to the world around her. Like a child reaching for the warmth of a parent's hand, she reached out of the tangle of anger and rage, reached out for the Force the Jedi had taught her. It did not answer.

Betrayed again.

She fell forwards, leaning on her knees with her hands on her face, tears of shame, of sorrow, of rage running down her face. Fen tried not to make a sound, unwilling to wake Hera in the next room. What was she supposed to do? What could she do? She twisted on to her side, exhausting filling her veins. Since when did reaching for the Force drain her like this? She drifted into a half-sleep even as the tears dried on her face.

What felt like moments later, she was awake again. She was back in chains with a thick band of cold metal around her neck. No matter how hard she strained, she could not break free.

The illusion was replaced with reality as she awoke to the sound of her own screams, her fingers crusted with blood as she clawed at her own neck, re-opening the wounds. She didn't understand where the metal bands had gone, why was she warm? Why was the ground soft? The lights sensed her movements and turned on, revealing the room, reminding her. Terror receding to panic, Fen staggered to the bathroom, pulling the sweater away, already growing stiff with blood. Trembling with adrenaline and fear, she tried to wash she blood from under her fingernails, smearing it across the counter. She moved her hands to her neck, but they stopped against her will, unwilling to touch the weeping sores or the claw marks she had gouged into them.

As she forced herself to rub away the edges of blood that covered her neck, Fen had to resist the urge to vomit. These were her own hands, she was alone, she was safe. Why did it feel like her own hands were strangling her? Pathetic. A thought echoed in the back of her mind. Weak.

"No," She whispered, her voice hoarse. "I'm…" The word 'fine' lodged in her throat, such a profound untruth, she could not even state it to herself.

Broken, useless girl. You should have stayed where you belonged.

Anger smoldered to life inside of her. She had not the strength or the will to resist its pull. With anger, the Force roared into being. Fear was vanquished. She was whole. With less of an urge to vomit, she wiped the rest of the drying blood from her neck and the sweater and tried to brush it from her hair, wishing she had another bacta patch.

Force flowing through her veins once more, she sensed something new. Fear, but not her own. Carefully, she reached out with her mind to Hera, a nightmare stalked her like a shadow. Steadying herself against the counter, Fen acted without hesitation, brushing her mind against Hera's, just enough to wake her from her own struggles. Enveloping herself fully in the Force, she shuffled back to her bed, not quite ready to fall asleep again. Despite her wishes, she drifted off moments later, still clinging to the Force, and the growing darkness inside of her.

Hera awoke with her heart racing, a scream burning in the back of her throat. It dissipated as consciousness returned to her, leaving behind a strange sensation in the back of her mind, like the ghost of a touch. The feeling sent a shiver down her spine, leaving her unsettled. Sighing, she sat up, staring into the empty quiet of her room. Her mind felt pulled to Fen, probably asleep in the next room. Why hadn't she stayed? She hadn't even looked back. The ghost of her fingers dancing lightly across Hera's bruised stomach sent another chill through her body, but not an unpleasant one. But Fen had pulled away, Fen had not looked back. She let out another, longer sigh and tried to push away the confusing ball of feelings. Hera did not want to deal with this right now.

She lay back down, focusing on steadying her heart, her breathing, forcing her mind down old, well-worn trails of thought. What was she going to fix on Chopper next? Which parts of the new ship would need to be replaced first? Machines, no matter how complicated, how broken had an internal logic, they could be fixed with a little time, effort and the right parts. It was no matter to trace the paths of the wires, to find the short circuit, to replace it. How could she fix these nightmares? How could she stop Fen from flinching whenever someone so much as moved towards her? She was at a loss. Perhaps time would heal these wounds.

But until then?

Hera thought again of Fen, the girl tugging at her mind like a lodestone. She had killed four stormtroopers today without breaking a sweat. Fen's face in that moment was burned into the backs of her eyelids; wild, luminous. Beautiful. Unafraid. Her timidity burned away in an instant. What would it be like to have power like that? To be able to take hold of your fate? But from what she had seen, that kind of power brought trouble, brought attention. How long before someone caught on? It sent a pain through her heart to note that she was just as afraid of her father figuring it out as the Empire. Want it or no, Fen was a powerful weapon, today she had killed four stormtroopers, what more was she capable of?

Her thoughts flowed back to that mirage of an idea, saving the slaves of Ryloth. Fen had said she would help her with that. Together, perhaps, they could make a difference. Where would she start? Here, or further out? The idea of taking down a Hutt was appealing, but Ryloth needed help too. She almost got up to start looking at possible targets when the door hissed open. A child like instinct made her still her body and close her eyes, faking sleep, just in case.

The instinct was correct. She knew as soon as she felt the bed sink slightly. Her father. Who else would invade her privacy in the middle of the night? She tried to slow her breathing, make it steady. She was far too tired to fight with him right now.

"Hera?" His accented whisper was loud in the stillness. When she did not respond, he ran his hand gently down the length of her lekku like she was a child.

"You should have come with us today. We could have used you."

"Used me?" Hera sat up, fake sleep forgotten. "I am not a tool." The resentment inside her was blooming faster than she could control. "I am your daughter in case you had forgotten." She could not hide the tears in her voice.

"Hera," He paused, she could not see his face, but she could picture him searching for the right words. "That is not what I meant and you know it."

"Then what did you mean, because I don't know."

"You are a skilled warrior, an excellent pilot. Both of these things would have helped our cause tonight."

"Why, did you fail?" The taunting note was that of a petulant child and she knew it, but she couldn't help it.

"No, but our escape was not easy."

"But you were fine without me. I was gone for weeks and you managed." Stop there, she thought to herself, but she was angry now. "Did you even care that I was gone?" Had he even worried as her planned week-long mission had stretched from two to three and on without contact?

"Of course I did, you are my child."

"Well it sure doesn't feel like it."

"Hera this attitude is unbecoming of you. You know what we are fighting for, you know that sacrifices must be made. Your mother-"

She cut him off, trying not to yell lump in her throat nearly choking her. "No. You do not get to bring mother into this. She would have…" She would have cared, she would have held Hera and told her that everything was going to be alright, that the cause came second to her happiness. Hera realized with horror that she was crying. Awkwardly in the dark, her father tried to hold her but she pushed him away.

"Just go." She whispered

"You are not being rational."

"Go!" Finally, mercifully, he complied, the door hissing shut. She sat there, alone in the dark, trembling as she fought to control her tears, wincing as her stomach burned slightly. Then she stood, unable to stand the inaction and headed for her workshop, wiping unshed tears from her eyes.

Her most constant friend greeted her at the door, wailing about how she had abandoned him again, complaining about his condition, the rust, the way his left tire was ticking, the lack of mobility in her arm servos. Some of his rage abated upon seeing the new parts she had brought.

"It's alright Chop," She managed a smile as she rubbed the top of the droid's head. "I'm not going anywhere."

He made a sound of disbelief as she squatted in front of him and got to work.

"I mean it." One of the servos was jammed, she began to clear it. "I have things I want to do here." She laughed at his response. "Other than fixing you. I want to help people. More than just what father does." Hera paused, searching for the right words. "I don't think we can afford to wait until the Empire is defeated before we start helping individual people who are suffering."

Chopper beeped a question.

"Yes, obviously the Empire has to be defeated. But there are people, people here and now that need to be helped, people who can't wait for that day. My father can't seem to see that." She looked down her wrists where manacles had so recently been grating her skin. "But I can't ignore there suffering anymore."

"That's quite a speech." Hera started, spinning around to see Fen in the doorway. Lost in her work and her thoughts, she hadn't heard it open.

"Why are you awake?" Hera fumbled, trying to recover.

"I could ask you the same thing." Fen smirked slightly, walking into the room and crouching beside her and Chopper. "You still want help on this crusade of yours? It's kind of the Jedi thing to do, and now that I can be useful again…" A shadow crossed Fen's eyes as she spoke of the Jedi, but it passed in a heartbeat. Hera smiled.

"You were always useful Fen."

Fen dropped her eyes to the ground. "Kind of you to lie to protect my pride." There was a ghost of a smile in her words, but none of it's warmth.

Acting on instinct, Hera lifted up Fen's chin, ignoring her slight recoil at the motion. "I mean it." For a moment, Hera managed to hold her gaze, staring into their pale blue depths before letting go reluctantly. There was a moment of silence.

"What brought you down here?" Hera pulled herself together first.

"I couldn't sleep." Fen worried the top of her turtleneck between her fingers. Everything Fen had bought had a similar neckline. It was a warm choice for Ryloth, especially for someone not used to the heat. Hera's neck had a few marks around it too, but it was only a little inflamed, nothing to worry about. "I.." Fen fumbled for her words. "You were awake too."

"Do you want to help with Chopper's other arm?" Hera asked, trying her best to ignore the warm bubble of hope in her heart. She crouched back down and Fen followed. "We're going to take this one out and replace some of the most corroded wiring and attach the new one we bought today." She explained, pointing out the various components. Fen crouched beside her, close enough that Hera could see the veins standing out against her pale skin. Perhaps they both should do something about this lack of sleep. But that would mean talking to a medical droid, telling them what had happened. It would get back to her father one way or another. His reaction was not something she wanted, be it pity or anger. "Can you grab the wrench?"

It took the better part of an hour to replace the wiring and the arm and for Chopper to test it appropriately. By then, the sky outside was beginning to lighten, and faint sounds of movement were coming from the rest of the house. Fen was on the counter, leaning against the wall with legs crossed and eyes closed. She had claimed to be meditating, but she might have finally fallen asleep. Letting out a sigh, Hera slid to the floor, leaning against one of the cabinets. I'll just close my eyes for a minute. She thought, they were so heavy, but still, she could feel the nightmares that lurked behind them. The last thing she saw was Fen, her thoughts beginning to twist into circles as she succumbed to exhaustion, her mind fixed on Fen's intense eyes, on the stormtroopers struggling in the air, of the confusing tightness in her chest. It faded slowly as she finally drifted off to sleep.