(A/N)- Probably the longest of the chapters I'm gonna do, unless Sabine and Ezra's days surprise me. This was a fun one, it was nice to have something a little bit more fun than last chapter.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: *emerges from Jenny Nicholson's in-depth analysis of the failure of the Galactic Starcruiser hotel* Huh? Oh right, I don't own any of this.
Tales of the Spectres: Hera
Hera hefted the strap of her backpack a little higher, standing up on her tiptoes and craning to see over the heads of the crowd. The busy spaceport was filled with the noise of the hustling and bustling, and it echoed off the high white rafters above her. Hera scanned along the walls, eyes passing over the abstract Savareenian art until she spotted the info booth she was looking for.
She tilted her feet back flat, calling to the C1 unit trailing behind her.
"Come on, Chopper," she said. "This way."
The clanky old droid rolled after her on noisy wheels and servos.
"WUB-WUB WUB WUUUUUB WUB WUBBA," he complained at her, even as he dutifully followed at her heels.
"I know you don't like it, but this is the fastest way out of this sector," Hera told him. Gripping both straps of her backpack now, she strode with confidence, her slight, nineteen-year-old frame easily slipping in and out of gaps in the crowd. "Excuse me," she said politely as she squeezed through. "Pardon me."
Chopper gave a grumble as he dogged her steps, ignoring the collisions and curses that erupted around him as he crossed multiple people's paths.
Hera stepped up to the info booth, currently occupied by a portly Waluna whose high-set nostrils and small beady eyes were both currently buried in a datapad. A large leaderboard of wanted ads and job postings, shipping and smuggling contracts and acquisitions requests were posted up on the screens behind him, flashing and changing every so often as they updated.
Clearing her throat, Hera waited until the Waluna was looking at her, peeling his eyes away from his reading. She put on a winsome smile and flattened her accent to standard Basic—Chopper had been helping her with her lessons since she'd left Ryloth.
"I'm looking for a job," she said.
Grunting, the Waluna flicked his eyes back down.
"Pleasure houses are in the Rehhd District," he told her dismissively.
Her lekku and one emerald eye twitched, but Hera didn't let the offensive assumption phase her. "Actually, I'm a pilot," she corrected.
The Waluna's attention drew back up immediately with keen interest. "Really?" he said. His beady eyes looked her up and down. "You any good?" he asked.
"Why don't you put me to the test and find out?" Hera challenged, eyes glimmering.
After a moment she grimaced and backtracked.
"That sounded a lot more insinuating than I meant it to," she admitted with embarrassment. "Let me just make one thing very clear, I am not interested in you."
The Waluna chuckled. "A Twi'lek who doesn't put out. That's refreshing," he commented. He scooted forward in his seat, straightening up a little. His large blue and cream fingers thumbed over his console displays. "Well, we've got a high-profile swoop race coming up. If you're looking to get scouted as a pilot, that's one of the best ways to get noticed."
"There an entry fee?" Hera asked, already sliding her backback off her shoulders.
"Always is," the Waluna confirmed, still chuckling. "One fifty, credits only."
Hera unzipped the main pouch and fished around in her backpack a moment before withdrawing a handful of credits. She carefully counted them out in her hand, shifting pieces across her palm, fifty, one hundred...
When she had the required amount she fisted it and dropped the rest back in her bag, placing the credits on the counter.
The Waluna looked contemplatively at them for a long moment. One finger slowly scraped a single credit towards himself, casually palming it in his hand.
"Of course," he drawled, his voice full of insinuations and needling, "I could rec you for a job personally myself—We have a freighter moving some sensitive cargo offworld in a few days.—for twice that price and a personal demonstration of your abilities. I have this old hotrod speeder that's seen more dust than use and would really love to take her out for a spin, like she deserves," he offered. He gave her a beady wink. "Think you can handle that?"
Hera narrowed her eyes. She glared flatly for several long moments. Just because she was young didn't mean she was naive.
"My droid has a shock prod. If you try anything he'll let you have it," she warned.
Chopper popped the arm out and let it crackle ominously on cue for emphasis.
The chuckling that followed dissipated her worries a little, as did the Waluna's raised, placating hands.
"Okay okay!" he laughed. "No hands on the goods, promise! Just show me what you've got and I'll be happy to steer you to any ship you want off this rock."
Hera simmered down, plucking out the extra credits and slapping them down.
"Deal," she said.
-SWR-
The sleek, bright cherry red speeder skimmed on its repulsorlifts, drifting in a very precise arc on fine-tuned engines that rumbled through the handles in Hera's hands.
Hera turned the yoke sharply, bringing the back end around in a sharp skid, then pulled up short, slotting the vehicle neatly into the Waluna's company parking space.
The speeder tilted briefly to the right with the momentum, before rocking back into place with a heavy thump.
"Wheeeeeweee!" crowed the Waluna, one hand on the edge of the door, the other holding his hat down firmly to his head. "I haven't hit speeds like that in ten years!"
Hera powered down the speeder and quickly hopped from its pilot seat down to the ground. She turned to the backseat. "Hang on Chopper, don't use your boosters, I've got you," she told her droid, reaching in to grab him with both arms by his barrel chassis.
The Waluna pried himself with some difficulty from his seat, hefting and heaving. His weight leaving the speeder made it bounce a little, giving Hera some extra leverage to haul Chopper over the side. She immediately had to set him down—for a janky older model he was heavy—and he grumbled sourly again about the whole ordeal.
Hera brushed herself off and straightened as the Waluna came around to the driver's side to face her.
"Here," he said, handing her her credits back. "For that flying, my shilling services are free of charge." He dug in a pocket and pulled out a little mini-datapad. "You're gonna want Drak Tvandik, Dock 7. Runs the biggest cargo hauling operation on Savareen. Tell him Poncha sent you, with his highest regards."
"Thanks," Hera said, accepting the credits with a dip of her head.
"Good luck out there in the big galaxy," the Waluna wished her, giving her a jaunty little salute.
Hera collected her backpack from the backseat and started off again. She was glad to be out of the arid hot sun and back into the cool climate of the spaceport, and it even looked like the terminals were a little less crowded now. She walked with a little spring in her steps, thrilled to be on her way again.
As if sensing her good mood, her comlink began buzzing in her pocket.
"Ugh, see who that is, Chopper," she groaned, fishing out the device and handing it to him to analyze and read the frequency ID.
Chopper held the comlink in his manipulators, careful not to drop it.
"WUUUUHHHH..." the droid said with some hesitation. "WUB WUB WAH-BUH."
"It's my—" Hera's eyes widened and she stopped in her tracks as her mental translation caught up. "—father?!"
She whipped around, lekku flying, and then froze with indecision, a tight panic clutching at her chest.
He'd... called her? He never called her. She would spend hours out on the plains tinkering with spare ship parts and he'd never reached out to her comm from worry, never angrily demanded her home.
When had he even noticed she was gone?
Heart thumping, Hera stood there for several long minutes, a rock in a sea of bodies passing around her, oblivious to her inner struggle.
Chopper, on the other hand, could sense her unease and discomfort. "WUB WUUB WUBWUB?" he offered.
That stirred Hera from her paralysis and she immediately swallowed down the nervous bile that was gathering in her throat, shaking her head.
"No," she decided quickly. "No we're not going to answer." Flustered, she straightened, running hands down her lekku and turning towards one of the art pieces on the wall, as if that would help her think. "I'll... leave him a message once we get offword," she said, wringing the tips in her palms.
Chopper shrugged and tucked the comlink in one of his spare storage compartments. "WUB WUB," he drawled uncertainly.
Hera inhaled slowly, calming her breathing. She found a window, open to the blue sky above, and reminded herself why she was doing this.
The endless sky, empty and free, worries left far below her on the ground. The feeling like there was no one else who existed in that moment but her and she could truly be... herself.
It called her like a gravity well pulling her in, almost physically raising her feet off the ground.
Shaking off its siren spell, she gestured sharply to her droid.
"Come on Chopper," she snapped. "I want to be as far away from here as possible by the next rotation."
He made a muttered comment about "running away from her problems" that she ignored, stalking through the crowd to her rendezvous with destiny and her true purpose.
She needed to fly. If her father couldn't see that... his loss.
She was lost to the current of the crowd, swept away in moments.
(A/N)- So I dunno about any of y'all but I had fun writing Hera as a starry-eyed awkward teenager.
Next up, our favorite orange tin can murderhobo.