Chapter Text
Hera waited for the victory party to be in full swing before drawing Kanan aside. The rest of the crew could carry on celebrating with the Lothal locals without supervision, and she’d promised him they had a lot to talk about.
Zeb shot them a knowing look when they slipped away, but he wasn’t as knowing as he thought.
It took a bit of walking before they found an actual quiet place where they could sit together. Kanan wrapped his arms around her waist as she leaned back against his chest. The galaxy was less daunting when she curled up to him, even if she had no idea how they were going to manage half of this. “You know they all think we’ve snuck off to...”
Kanan smirked. “Make babies?”
She laughed and relaxed just a little. “Yeah, something like that.”
“So. What are we going to do?”
That was the million credit question. Which didn’t even compare to the bounty the Empire set on Jedi. Kanan was letting her take the lead, just like he always did. He never pushed, and that always made her feel confident that he was the one she wanted to take each step with. “Well. Have a baby.”
“So you want this.”
Of course, he wanted to know. He’d brought the possibility up more than once, and she’d always avoided the question. She didn’t like getting bogged down in theoretical possibilities for after the war. It might distract her from making sure the war ever ended. And then it suddenly wasn’t theoretical but they were still at war, and it should be so much harder to figure out what she wanted.
She’d started thinking of it as a baby faster than she expected. That’s when she realized she’d made her decision, and it wasn’t the smart option. She wanted the ridiculous, impractical, downright foolish thing. “It wouldn’t have been my choice of timing. But I don’t like the Empire making my choices for me.”
Kanan let the smile she knew he’d been holding back creep across his face. “Then we’ll have a baby. And make it work. We’ve handled everything else the galaxy threw at us.”
“I haven’t really had much of a chance to think about any of this. My original plan was to sneak off with you once we finished dealing with Thrawn’s forces and tell you that I’m pregnant.”
There had been no telling what that battle was going to bring. Springing that on him then would only have been a distraction. It had certainly thrown her off, and one of them needed to have a level head. There was no guarantee there would still be anything to tell him about afterward.
She hadn’t counted on the Force, though.
Kanan brushed his lips over her temple. “I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. I wasn’t sure if you even knew yet, and it seemed like the sort of thing that you should be telling me.”
It usually was, but she wasn’t going to object to his putting her mind at ease in the heat of the moment. “I only found out yesterday morning. I thought it was the interrogation drugs, but they actually wear off faster than that.” She hoped everyone was too busy celebrating to notice if she had to make it an early night. Or they would at least assume, not inaccurately, that she was with Kanan. “I think... I remember that I had my appointment last month, but Hobbie crashed his fighter, and I had to go deal with that. I meant to reschedule, but I must not have.”
“And then against all odds...”
Maybe that’s why it had slipped down the to-do list. It was possible enough to take precautions, but not a serious possibility. The med droid had only run the test as standard procedure for her symptoms; she’d been sure it had to be anything else. This was practically a miracle. The Empire didn’t get to take miracles from them. “How long have you known?”
He brushed his fingertips across her stomach. Did he need that to sense the baby? Or did he just want to do it? “Since you went back to Yavin for reinforcements.”
Hera twisted around to study Kanan’s face. “Seriously?”
“I sensed it while I was meditating.”
“Kanan, I’m pretty sure it happened the night before. How is that...” They hadn’t exactly had a lot of opportunities lately. Medically speaking, she couldn’t even have been pregnant yet.
Kanan shrugged. “I guess the Force wanted me to know.”
She usually let the Force be Kanan or Ezra’s department. She didn’t question it, didn’t even spend much time contemplating it. Still, she couldn’t help thinking she should have been consulted on this one.
“I guess if I’m still pregnant after all that, it must really want this baby around.” Not that she trusted the Force to prevent all the countless things that could go wrong between now and then.
“Can you blame it? This is just so...” Kanan trailed off with a goofy smile.
“Complicated.” She hadn’t even known she was pregnant, and the baby had already survived the crash and her being tortured. But the look on Kanan’s face made it seem so simple. “You knew the entire time I was...”
“I had to let Ezra take the lead so I wouldn’t do anything foolish.” His arms tightened slightly around her.
At least normally, she picked the missions and who was involved. She was the one who would have to decide what risks she could take. That seemed simpler before she was actually dodging falling debris. “This isn’t the smart thing for us to do.”
“I know. But how do you feel about it?”
And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Now that it had happened, it was completely different from a theoretical question. She’d never even let herself think about whether she wanted this. There were so many unknowns. She’d never have done it on purpose while the war was raging, and there was no way of knowing if they’d both survive to see the end. And that was assuming they could even conceive a child at all.
That, it would seem, was no longer a mystery. It had worked this time, at any rate. “This is dangerous. But once the shock wore off... I thought about everything our baby has already survived. After I finished panicking about all that, I started thinking maybe we can handle it.”
“They’ve got you for a mom. What can the galaxy manage up against that?”
She could already think of quite a few things the galaxy could manage. Sooner or later, the Empire was going to find this development very interesting, and their lives were would get even more complicated. “Do you think the baby will be like you?”
“Well, I’m hoping they’ll take after you. Especially in looks.”
A million things to worry about, and Kanan was still flirting. He was lucky she’d come to find it charming, even if she still elbowed him gently in the ribs. “You know I mean Force sensitive, love.”
“I don’t know if that’s genetic or not. The fact that I can sense them already makes me think... probably? But it’s not exactly something my training covered.”
Of course it wasn’t. If Jedi weren’t supposed to get into romantic relationships, they certainly weren’t supposed to have children. “Another old rule broken.”
“A rule made by people who never felt this.” He patted her stomach reverently. “Like you said, the Force must want our baby to exist.”
“We know what happens to Force sensitive children.” It was dangerous enough for her to be pregnant with the life they led. It was dangerous enough for the baby to be half human. But that was just the beginning. If nothing went wrong first, eventually there was the danger of an Inquisitor taking their baby out of their arms and using them for Palpatine’s ends. Ahsoka had found safe places for anonymous Force sensitive children, but one of known parentage? That was harder.
Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised that Kanan could sense the change as soon as it happened. He could always see everything about her. Could always know when she needed his lips to brush her cheek. “And that means we know what we have to protect them from. We’re in a better position to protect our baby than other families.”
“Having two Jedi around...” It sounded better than a Force sensitive infant with no Jedi around, at any rate. Even with everything happening around them, onboard the Ghost with Kanan and Ezra might still be the safest place.
“It’s not quite the Jedi Order, but it’s family, and that might be just what they need.”
Sometimes, the Force granted Jedi glimpses of the future. Yet at no point had it ever prepared Kanan to sit in an Alliance medical centre as the med droid decided that it needed to bring an organic doctor in for this one. He did his best to push aside the memory of the last time the droid had so quickly realized the situation called for that special touch.
Unease radiated off Dr. Teska as she reviewed the test results. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how rare this is.” The slight hint of Ryl in her accent suggested she would have learned it much the same way Hera had.
No one in possession of a brain cell got into a physical relationship with a member of another species without giving the matter some consideration. Even if no one was planning to have children… in some ways, especially if no one was planning to have children, it was important to be aware of the facts. They knew it was technically possible. They’d been taking precautions (or at least had intended to) but it seemed the Force had other plans. Now they had to hope it meant to see this through and wasn’t just teasing them with the possibility. Having a baby in the middle of a war was nerve-wracking, but the thought of losing one now that the option had presented itself was worse.
“We know.” Hera’s voice masked most of her nerves. “That’s why I hadn’t thought about it.”
“The hybrid status complicates a lot of information that the med droid could normally give you.” Hence the actual doctor. This was complicated, but it wasn’t necessarily dire. They’d at least determined that some of these children did survive. “We won’t be able to estimate a due date until we have developmental scans, and even that will be less clear than usual. Standard gestational timeframes vary by six standard weeks. As much as it’s possible to plan anything in our current circumstances, plan to step back when you’re approaching the human period.”
Kanan wasn’t sure which sounded more outlandish: Hera stepping back or them actually being able to plan fifty-six standard weeks ahead. The sound of her shifting in her seat gave away her anxiety even without the Force. He squeezed her hand, already knowing what she wanted to ask.
“Is it safe for me to keep flying?” There was no question Hera would keep fighting in some form, but she was at her best in a cockpit. It would be a long uncertain number of months for everyone if she was grounded.
The doctor tapped at her datapad. Hopefully, someone had given her even the most basic information about Hera to make sure she’d come prepared for that. “That’s not a simple yes or no question. We actually believe in protecting our pilots, so radiation isn’t a concern as long as you avoid any captured TIEs. Acceleration and deceleration can still pose a risk, though. Fighters aren’t medically advisable, and a B-Wing is right out, but piloting your VCX freighter won’t be much more dangerous than if you were a passenger. As your doctor, I also have to advise against crashing.”
That last point seemed like a good idea even for people who weren’t pregnant. Everyone was going to be happier and healthier with a controlled landing.
“I can handle that.” She ran a thumb over Kanan’s hand. “For our baby.”
“I’ve provided you with literature on some more mundane activities. I’m more familiar with Twi’lek prenatal supplements, but I recommend a mixture of those and some formulated for humans along with additional supplements to compensate for nutrients you don’t produce naturally. That’s about as standard as anything gets with a hybrid pregnancy. We’ll know more about the particular risks once you’re further along and we can perform genetic testing.”
It didn’t take a Jedi to know what path that would send Hera’s mind down. All the reasons this should have waited until after the war so they could set out proper groundwork to increase the odds of success.
But Jedi didn’t believe in luck anyway, did they? “I would sense if something was fundamentally wrong.” Yeah, that sounded confident. “I think. They never trained us on this at the Temple.”
It wasn’t outlandish for a Jedi to encounter pregnant women. They were supposed to help the vulnerable, after all. His master might have expected him to assist one when evacuating a disaster area. But not the sort of day-to-day interaction that would warrant devoting time to training them in sensing tiny presences.
“My medical school was similarly silent on the role of the Force in diagnosis. But I intend to do everything within my capabilities to ensure the health of mother and fetus.”
“Thank you. I know this isn’t what you anticipated when you joined the Alliance.” If Kanan didn’t know better, he’d think Hera intended to be a model patient instead of the most stubborn person he’d ever been fortunate enough to meet.
“It isn’t, but treating something other than traumatic injuries is a pleasant change of pace.” The doctor placed her datapad on the desk with a soft sound. “The Empire’s position on interspecies relationships makes it harder than it should be to predict the path of your pregnancy. Any government that suppresses medical information like that has to go.”
Kanan took a deep breath at the reminder that the Empire didn’t think their child should exist to the point that it wasn’t concerned about whether Hera had access to fully informed medical care. He had to direct that feeling in a useful direction, not just let it simmer dangerously. All they had to do to create an optimal environment for their child was overthrow the galactic government.
And secure all the small parts on the Ghost.
“We wouldn’t go through with this if we didn’t think there could be a better future.” It was hard to say if Hera meant the words for him or the doctor. Maybe for the galaxy.
“There will be more to discuss once we’re able to do the first scans and basic genetic evaluation. I’ll let you absorb the information for now.”
“Alright.” Hera’s voice shook slightly, though most people wouldn’t notice. There was a lot to take in. Even if it was mostly what they already knew: This was complicated.
She kept hold of his hand when they stepped out into the corridor, maintaining an illusion of control for a few minutes before Kanan felt her weight shift onto him.
“So. General probably means you have your own room around here somewhere.” One thing the Rebellion didn’t lack in these old ruins was space. Sure, Hera preferred to sleep on the Ghost, but he’d never noticed any ranking officer sleeping in the communal barracks.
“I have a lot of work to...”
“Everyone thinks you’re in meetings all afternoon.” Sure, their crew thought it was with High Command, and High Command thought she was with their crew, but it all added up to no one expecting her to be anywhere right now.
“But I could...” the words cut off with a yawn.
“If you rest now, you’ll be in better shape when there’s fighting to be done. It might convince the doctor she doesn’t need to ground you.” Hera was a formidable woman, but doctors had their own way of dealing with that and would probably win. Especially when it wasn’t just Hera’s health at stake here.
“I guess... it’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.” She must have been more tired than he suspected.
Hera led the way through the twisted hallways of the old temple. Whoever built these ruins hadn’t been concerned about navigation. He brushed his fingers over a desk before Hera opened an inner door. Of course her quarters were attached to an office.
The bedroom itself wasn’t terribly big, and he knew Hera well enough to guess it didn’t have much in the way of decor. Their room back on the Ghost was decked out in traditional designs, but that was their home. He was sure the ship was where they’d set Sabine loose on a proper nursery once they needed one.
This room just needed to be a place to sneak the occasional nap. As long as the bed was comfortable, it would serve its purpose.
Considering he’d had to talk her into the break, it didn’t take long at all for Hera’s boots to thunk to the floor. Her vest rustled as she set it on the side table soon after. “Are you going to join me?”
The kids were much less likely to believe that he was subjecting himself to that long a meeting. Though meditation was always a possibility. If anyone asked, he would figure something out. He’d suggested the break because Hera genuinely seemed tired, but there was no way he’d turn down the possibility of cuddling. He slipped his own boots off, arranging them where he’d be able to find them again readily.
Hera guided him over to the bed. Someone more observant than Ezra had made sure it was meant for two. It was a bit narrow, but far from the most cramped space they’d shared in their decade-long relationship. Given that the only activity they were likely to want this room for was sleeping, it was fine.
He let his arms settle around Hera’s midsection. As long as he held her close, the countless complexities felt farther away. The second presence was easier to sense hanging on defiantly when his hands rested on her belly.
He kissed the top of Hera’s head as she settled against him. He might be the only one who could see the presence now, but it was real. Real enough to need long meetings with medical professionals that boiled down to one thing. “We’re having a baby.”