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Just for This Moment	By : DrunkenScotsman Category: +S through Z > Star Wars Rebels Views: 1330 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make zero dollars from this story, because Star Wars and all related intellectual properties, and all characters deriving therefrom, belong to Disney.

Chapter List
- 1-Just for This Moment
- 1
Just for This Moment
-Racism/Sexism (discussed), Preg, MCD

Hera Syndulla sat in the cockpit of the Ghost, currently planetside on Lothal, and basked in the unusual silence. Ezra had volunteered to lead a supply run with Zeb, Sabine, and Chopper – the lot of whom Hera and Kanan referred to as “the kids.” As she watched their speeder vanish into the sunny distance, Hera couldn’t help but worry about the increased Imperial presence and security due to Grand Admiral Thrawn’s TIE Defender production facilities.
“They’ll be fine,” Kanan reassured her, his deep voice behind her startling her from her thoughts. “Ezra’s come a long way from the boy we found.”
Hera turned to see Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight, standing in the doorway leading to the rest of the ship, his ruined eyes – damaged in a duel with the former Sith Lord Maul – fixed firmly on her. Even though the injury had occurred over a year ago, a fresh pang of sadness filled her, as it always did when she saw them. Kanan had had such beautiful blue eyes.
“Feels like a lifetime ago,” she sighed.
“I think we were all different people back then,” agreed Kanan, channeling that air of ancient Jedi wisdom he occasionally had. Hera had long wished he’d do so more often, since she found it supremely attractive. This time was no different.
Hera sighed again. “We should probably talk about… what happened.”
A smirk tugged at Kanan’s mouth, bringing a surge of heat to Hera’s cheeks. “I was hoping you’d bring it up, since you were the one who kissed me.”
“You’ve been pestering me about your feelings for a while,” Hera countered with a sly grin of her own. “Are you really surprised to find out I feel the same way?”
“A little, honestly,” Kanan replied. “I know you felt an attraction once upon a time, but that was before…” He trailed off and gestured vaguely, as if at the sum total of the universe. If so, he certainly had a point – he’d taken Ezra as his apprentice, they’d joined a larger Rebel Alliance, he’d been blinded, and they’d all gone on numerous adventures and nearly died a dozen times each.
“We’ve been busy,” agreed Hera with a snort. She stood and took his outstretched hand, yelping in surprise when Kanan pulled her into his arms. Mindful of her lekku, she rested her head against his chest. Her heart nonetheless began to pound in her ears. “Where do we go from here?”
“In the short term, my cabin or yours, whichever you prefer,” Kanan replied in a tone that sent a shiver up Hera’s spine.
“And long-term?”
Kanan traced a thumb along Hera’s cheek and chin. “Master Yoda used to tell us, ‘Always in motion, the future is – difficult to see for certain,’” he answered, his voice warm with fond remembrance yet tinged with sadness. He always sounded like that when speaking of his time as a Jedi, before the dark times – before the Empire.
Hera clasped the hand on her face to plant small kisses on the palm. A smile spread across her face at the hitch in Kanan’s usually-steady breathing. “It’s good to know there’s some mystery even for the Jedi,” she teased.
“What’s not a mystery is the reason the others left,” Kanan replied.
A fresh surge of heat filled Hera’s cheeks, and she felt both glad and guilty that Kanan couldn’t see the shade of green she turned. The Twi’lek pilot took a shaky breath. “Their support for us is touching,” she noted drily. “Speaking of which…”
Hera slipped her hands from Kanan’s and tugged off her pilot’s gloves and goggles. As she did so, a strange thought suddenly occurred to her: Just by removing those little pieces of her usual outfit, she was more undressed now (with another person around) than she’d ever been before. The realization sent another shiver up her spine.
That smirk curled Kanan’s lips again, as infuriating as it was endearing. “Are we remaining in the cockpit, then?”
Hera glared vibroblades, with no effect. “In your dreams,” she shot back, swatting his chest with her empty gloves. “My cabin has the more comfortable bunk.”
“Captains should have some perks,” Kanan quipped with a laugh as he stepped aside to let her past.
***
A few minutes later, Hera shut the door to her quarters behind them. Her stomach felt more ill-at-ease than the times she’d gone EV into the void of space, floating in null gravity. “Before we met,” she began, fighting not to betray her nerves, “you had a reputation as a ladies’ man, a charming rogue who left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.”
Kanan froze mid-stride. “You’re afraid I’ll break your heart.”
“I’ve never had these feelings for anyone before,” she admitted. “I’m flying blind.” At the quirk of one of Kanan’s eyebrows, Hera winced. “Sorry.”
Kanan shrugged. “With the others, it was mostly flirtation, a few kisses here and there. I didn’t count them seriously, but it seems some of them saw things differently.”
“‘Mostly’?” echoed Hera.
Kanan exhaled and turned to face the Twi’lek. “There was a Pantoran, about six years ago. We met on New Cov, and we were both has-beens – I, Jedi; her, former aide to the recently-defeated Senator Chuchi.” He snorted self-deprecatingly. “We bonded over shared feelings of failure and loss, over falling from grace.”
“Oh.” Hera couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. “That was before we met, so it’s okay—”
The Jedi gestured dismissively before interjecting, “We didn’t become fully intimate. The night we came closest, her sister walked in on us and chased me out with a hydrospanner.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I got hired on as security aboard a passenger liner a few days later, and I never saw her again.”
Hera bit her lip. “I’m sorry to bring it up. I just needed to know…”
“… If you’d be just a notch on the utility belt,” finished Kanan. “You don’t have to apologize; you have a right to know.” He took her hand and kissed it. “I can fly lead on this mission, if you want.”
Hera laughed and flushed. “Not so fast, hotshot,” she purred before maneuvering in for a passionate kiss. Their tongues tangled. Despite her nerves, she found herself wanting more with each passing moment.
Kanan migrated from Hera’s lips to her jaw to her neck, drawing a gasp of delight from her with each kiss to her verdant flesh. Her hands clung to his tunic while his hands busied themselves with unstrapping and unzipping her flight suit, a garment which Hera considered almost a second skin. Her breaths became more and more ragged, with anticipation as much as with what little Kanan had actually done. As her lover peeled her flight suit down, just enough to bare her shoulders, a wave of anxiety crashed over her, and her whole body tensed.
To his credit, Kanan stopped immediately, as much as he might have wanted to continue. “Hera? What’s wrong?” he whispered. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing,’ because I felt that. Did you change your mind?”
Fighting to master her feelings, Hera took a deep breath. “It’s not that,” she reassured him. “It’s just… you know Twi’lek women like me… we’re seen as nothing but objects of desire. I hate feeling like that, but it’s something I’ve had to put up with my whole life.”
“I know. I’ve seen it, and it’s gross. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way, even by accident,” Kanan apologized.
The sincerity in his voice almost broke Hera’s heart. She ran her fingers through his beard, as her emotions came into clearer focus. “With you, right now, it feels… different. I want to make this special, but I don’t know how. I’m more at home in a fighter cockpit than on a dance floor, more comfortable in a flight suit than a slinky dress.” She sighed. “Am I making any sense?”
Kanan nuzzled her hand, but he didn’t answer for a long moment. Hera could tell from his expression that he was pondering his answer. Finally, he nodded. “You want to seduce me without playing to those stereotypes you loathe,” he summarized.
Hera bit her lip. “How do we proceed? I do want this.”
Kanan pulled away to “look” at her intently. “According to Jedi philosophy, our bodies matter less than our spirits. The person of Hera Syndulla is what I’m attracted to, not the body she happens to pilot,” he told her. “Does that help?”
Hera hummed. “Less than you’d think,” she replied. “After all, I want you to appreciate my body. Only you.”
Kanan kissed her forehead. “I’d be delighted to. Maybe you’d feel less objectified if you undressed yourself?” he suggested.
“Worth a shot,” admitted the Twi’lek. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend Kanan wasn’t there, as though she were turning in for the night.
The cool ship’s air ghosted along her skin as she peeled her flight suit off centimeter by centimeter. An unfamiliar, needful heat blossomed within her in response, seemingly determined to fend off the cold. Hera allowed her hands to graze along her bare skin and gasped at the feeling of her own caress.
Lacking the generous bust generally associated with Twi’lek women – or much of a bust at all, honestly – Hera never wore any of the various supporting undergarments on the market; just now, this left her wearing a pair of synth-weave briefs, plain white, over her groin and rear. With hands steady from years of piloting her ship through asteroid fields and swarms of TIE fighters, she tugged that garment down, too. Next, she wriggled her feet free of her boots and the pile of clothing now pooled around them.
Removing her skullcap proved almost the most nerve-wracking part. Gingerly, Hera eased it along her lekku, the sensitive head-tails that defined her people. They aided in balance and coordination, like the tails of some quadruped predators; they also, infamously, served as erogenous zones, as much as (or more than) the lips, breasts, or genitals.
Usually, when she undressed completely like this, Hera immediately entered the refresher, with bathing as her priority. Usually, her hectic life as a Rebel leader left precious little time or energy for anything else. Even before, though, she’d never had, or allowed herself, the luxury of exploring herself or indulging her urges. She gave so much of herself to others that she’d never given herself permission to give herself even a morsel of happiness.
Now, in this moment, she stood completely naked in her quarters with no consideration of practicality. Now, in this moment, she would make time for something she wanted. For someone who gave so much of herself, this thinking felt selfish; but, in this moment, it also felt right.
“Are you ready?” asked Kanan.
“I think so,” whispered Hera. She pictured herself in her mind’s eye, the way she’d seen herself in mirrors and the way she wanted her lover to see her: the proportionally-long legs, the one part of her that resembled a typical Twi’lek dancing girl; the wide hips, the plush rump, a perfect cushion for siting in a pilot’s seat; the flat stomach and barely-cinched waist; the minor protrusions from her chest that could generously be called breasts; the narrow shoulders and lissome arms; the vibrant green eyes which she thought her most striking feature; her mottled lekku that hung to the small of her back; the entirety of her, all hairless, green skin the color of late-summer grass on the plains of Lothal. “Can you see me?”
“… Yes,” Kanan choked out. “You’re stunning, Hera. Far more beautiful than I’d dared imagine. More than you give yourself credit for.”
Hera let the image fade from her thoughts, since she didn’t think she could maintain her focus on it as they continued. She opened her eyes to see his reaction. Her mouth immediately went dry, while the moisture from it migrated… elsewhere.
Kanan also stood completely naked, his tan skin and well-muscled, athletic frame on full display. To Hera’s surprise, the human also had hair dusting his chest, arms, and legs, with a thicker patch on the groin. His manhood stood tall – at least fifteen centimeters – and proud; despite her inexperience, Hera wasn’t so naïve she didn’t understand what that meant.
“I undressed while you did,” he explained unnecessarily.
“I can see that,” answered Hera drily. On wobbly legs, she closed the distance to kiss him again – perhaps just to shut him up. The feeling of all her skin against all of his, especially down there, sent a jolt of electricity through her body, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. The closest comparison she could make to the rush she felt in this moment was the surge of adrenalin she felt when flying into combat.
With a smile, she grasped the flight control stick to make clear how eager she was for a test flight.
***
Given how direct he’d been about taking their relationship to this level, and how long they’d been circling one another, Hera had expected Kanan to toss her onto the bunk and proceed to the main event. Instead, he displayed the patience and compassion of a Jedi, kissing and caressing every square centimeter of her body while encouraging her to explore likewise. His lips on her nipples made her moan. His tongue on the tips of her lekku made her see stars. His tongue on the tiny lek at the apex of her sex nearly sent her jumping into hyperspace.
When the pressure of pleasure, tense like a tightly-wound spring inside her, suddenly released, Hera could only scream and wonder, distantly, why she’d waited until thirty years old to experience this explosion of ecstasy. One explosion flowed into the next, until she soon lost count, or any sense of the world around her. There was only this, and it felt incredible.
***
“It’s a good thing the others are out,” Kanan commented wryly as she caught her breath. “There’s no way we could’ve done this without everyone hearing.”
Hera laughed weakly. “Hush, you. Don’t think you can get away with teasing me just because you broke my brain with your Jedi mouth tricks.”
Kanan grinned. “Just think – that was only the warm-up.”
“I’ve barely touched you,” Hera protested. “Don’t you want me to… try using my mouth on you, or something?”
“As tempting as that sounds,” the human replied, “I’m not sure how much longer we have. It’d be just our luck for something to go awry before I could go again.”
Hera ran a hand along his cheek, down his chest, and back to his chin. “Opportunities like this don’t come along often, do they? Let’s make the most of this moment.”
***
Hera moaned when Kanan entered her, smooth and gentle as summer rain. The aching need she’d felt for him now vanished, replaced by a sense of contentment and closeness she hadn’t realized even existed. Each blissful thrust, each caress, each whisper of her name across his lips left her wondering why, if she’d had such feelings for this man since they’d met, she’d waited so long to express them in this way.
Kanan buried his face into her shoulders, shuddered, and lay still. Hera held him in her arms, panting and moaning. An unfamiliar wet warmth deep insider her indicated he’d spent himself utterly.
She should have felt disappointed he didn’t last longer, enough for just one more of those delicious orgasms. She should have felt upset he hadn’t withdrawn, instead of emptying his seed within her. She should have felt angry at herself for her carelessness, not insisting on protection while swept up in the moment.
Just for this moment, though, basking in the afterglow of having finally made love to this man she’d wanted for years, the only man she'd ever wanted, Hera could feel nothing other than deliriously content.
***
On the “supply run” on the other side of Lothal, Ezra Bridger, Jedi apprentice, felt a disturbance in the Force, like two voices, singing counterpoint at first; then harmonizing; and finally reaching crescendo in unison.
On one level, he felt a little disgusted – like he’d overheard his parents coupling. On another, he felt a little jealous, wondering if he’d ever experience that level of closeness with anyone (Sabine had long made it clear they were just friends, and he’d made his peace with that). On yet another, he felt happy for them both – his surrogate parents, his Master especially, had gone through a lot, and they deserved to find happiness together.
The young Jedi smirked and focused on that third feeling. “I think we’ve found all we’re gonna find,” he told the others. “Let’s head back.”
Trundling back to their speeder, Chopper barked something that sounded like “It’s about damn time.”
Ezra got the impression they all felt the same way.
***
Over the next few weeks, Kanan started talking like a wise Jedi all the time, just as Hera had always wanted. The more he did so, the less Hera liked it, because it sounded like something terrible was about to happen. It scared the hell out of her.
When it happened, it proved worse than she’d feared: The Ghost family she’d spend so long building was shattered.
Kanan died. Ezra had gone missing. Both had sacrificed themselves, in different ways, to save their Ghost family from the Empire.
As she’d done when she lost her mother and brother to war, Hera soldiered on, determined to fight the good fight and bring peace to the galaxy once again.
She didn’t know that, this time, she was fighting a war on two fronts.
Her appetite vanished. What little she could get down, even the blandest ration bar, came up again not long after.
She often woke up screaming for Kanan in the middle of the night, cold sweat coating her skin, dried tear-tracks on her cheeks. Her final image of him – his ruined eyes healing to their pristine blue, just before the flames consumed him – always lingered when she woke, and it had seared itself into her waking memory. She tried to console herself by remembering she had, at least, told him and showed him how she felt about him.
Fresh tears always followed.
Fatigue seemed to seep into her bones, into her very soul, so that every day felt like swimming against the current of a raging flood of sludgy, quick-drying perma-crete.
When she started having dizzy spells – particularly dangerous for a pilot – she grew concerned. When her lekku swelled and ached and became hyper-sensitive to the slightest touch, she suspected a culprit other than grief.
***
Sabine found Hera sitting in the Ghost’s common area one morning, the medkit open on the hologame table, its contents strewn across the surface. The Twi’lek stared blankly at the bio-sensor in her hand. Sabine frowned, concerned for her surrogate mother, who’d taken the death of Kanan and the disappearance of Ezra so much harder than the rest of them.
“Alliance Command just commed,” the Mandalorian told her captain in an attempt to help her regain her focus and drive. “This… looks much more important. What’s wrong?” Without a word, Hera handed over the device.
Sabine knew a lot about a lot, but Twi’lek physiology wasn’t one of those things; most of the readouts therefore meant little to her. One light caught her eye, however – one which, if Sabine were to use this sensor, she knew would always, always come up red. From Hera’s scan, that light glowed bright green.
“Carrabast,” she swore, having picked up the word from Zeb over the years. “What’re you going to do?”
Hera’s fierce glare caught the other woman by surprise. “I’m keeping it, of course.” Her voice softened, and Sabine had never heard her so broken. “It’s all I have left of him.”
“The Rebellion needs its best pilot—”
“They have Wedge,” Hera interjected shortly.
“You’re better,” Sabine argued, feeling an irrational need to remind this woman she admired just why she was admirable. Why she was needed.
“Let them find someone else, then,” Hera bit out, sounding exhausted. She looked up at the Mandalorian, a bit of the old fire back in her eyes. “I’ve given the Rebellion my whole life these last few years. They owe me this much, at least.”
Slowly, Sabine nodded. “I’ll tell them that, after what happened on Lothal, we’re going to lay low for a while.”
Hera’s expression softened. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m sorry.”
Sabine smiled. “You’ve got a lot to process,” she reassured her. “If this is what you want… I’m happy for you.”
Hera smiled and nodded firmly. “You can promise Alliance Command that, once I’m ready to return, they’ll have more of Hera Syndulla than they know what to do with.” Her smile sharpened. “I’ll have something personal to fight for, after all: a future for my child.”
Sabine’s smirk matched the sharpness of Hera’s smile. “The Empire won’t know what hit them.”
Hera stood up, a renewed sense of purpose filling her with fire. “Thanks, Sabine. For everything. Now, let’s get to work.”
***
When Sabine felt the thump against her hand through the flesh of Hera’s now-swollen belly, she couldn’t help but gasp in awe. “Doesn’t that feel weird?”
Hera laughed, “Every time, but especially the first time, when I wasn’t expecting it.”
Sabine pulled her hand away. Despite her usual orientation, she’d occasionally wondered, out of sheer intellectual curiosity, what it would be like to be with a man instead. Even if that ever happened, which she doubted, after watching Hera balloon outward the last few months, she had exactly zero desire to undertake this part of the experience. “Better you than me. I like my organs right where they are, thanks all the same,” she quipped. More seriously, she asked, “What did the med droid say?”
“First, that both of us are the picture of health,” answered Hera. She smiled beatifically and caressed the expanse that carried the most precious cargo she’d ever hauled. “Second… it’s a boy. My son. Our son.” She blinked back tears.
Just for a moment, she imagined she felt an invisible hand against her pregnant belly.
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A/N: Thanks for reading this. I hope you've enjoyed my foray into a different fandom from my other works. If you're interested, please read those, which you can find through my profile.
I always welcome feedback, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story.
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Just for This Moment