she makes her own dystopia as she goes (bedlamsbard) wrote,
she makes her own dystopia as she goes
bedlamsbard

Star Wars Rebels fic: On the Edge of the Devil's Backbone (Chapter 22: Syndulla's Gamble)

On the Edge of the Devil's Backbone (257399 words) by bedlamsbard
Chapters: 22/?
Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Characters: Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus, Sabine Wren, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, C1-10P | Chopper, Ezra Bridger, Cham Syndulla, Barriss Offee, Kallus | ISB-021, Darth Vader, Ahsoka Tano, The Inquisitor (Star Wars), The Seventh Sister, The Fifth Brother
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence
Summary:

Ten years after she vanished during an Imperial raid on a Twi'lek colony, Cham Syndulla sees his daughter Hera for the first time in a hologram -- now wearing the uniform of an Imperial agent and apparently working closely with a human Inquisitor. All Cham wants to do is to bring his long-missing child home to what remains of her family, but he soon finds that Hera Syndulla is only interested in two things: her duty to the Empire and her loyalty to her crew, a mismatched collection of outcasts brought together by Hera and her pet Inquisitor.


With Cham and the Rebel agent known as Fulcrum in pursuit, a new mission takes Hera and the crew of the Ghost to the planet Lothal, where a chance meeting with a Force-sensitive teenager awakens something long buried in the Inquisitor once known as Kanan Jarrus...and has dire consequences for Hera, their crew, the Empire, and the fledgling Rebel Alliance.


*

“So what is this place?” Sabine asked, leaning around to peer between Kanan and Hera as the Ghost came out of hyperspace. She could see contacts begin to pop up on the boards as they approached, but all that was visible through the viewport was a big amorphous blob that didn’t look like any space station or planet she had ever heard of before. Ezra, in the other passenger seat, was gaping unashamedly. With only four seats in the cockpit, Zeb had gone up to the gun turret to cover their backs in case something went wrong.

“It’s an old asteroid mine that was abandoned during the Clone Wars,” Kanan said. “Local pirates took it over and use it as a clearinghouse – pirates and smugglers can come in and sell their cargoes in a safe port without having to pay import taxes to the Empire or worrying about being arrested. The flightmaster takes a bigger cut than in other ports, but a place like this has its attractions.” He frowned at the viewport for a moment. “Most clearinghouses move around, though; the Empire has a tendency to shut them down whenever the local governors change. Or whenever the flightmasters turn over, which is pretty often. Not a long life expectancy in that job.”

Hera flicked her gaze at him. “You’ve never brought me here.”

“I haven’t been since I was Ezra’s age. I wasn’t certain it was still active, but it came up in one of the security briefings last month.” Kanan frowned again, fiddling with the knuckle plate on his armor.

Sabine was used to seeing him in street clothes on the Ghost, but he had had a tendency to stick to Imperial colors – black, gray, and occasionally red accents. Now he was wearing green, the same shirt and asymmetrical armor he had worn when he had picked up Ezra the other day. Even with the lightsabers on his belt alongside his blaster, he didn’t look like an Inquisitor anymore.

Except in the shoulders. He still carried himself like one, like an Imperial officer; so did Hera. Sabine wasn’t certain that either of them would ever lose that entirely.


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Tags: fanfic, star wars
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