#project: Hera syndulla

[poetryincostume]

With life and a back-breaking work schedule for a couple of years - until now, thank you greedy film studios - I have barely undertaken, nevermind finished, any personal sewing projects. This meant that when Star Wars Celebration returned to my neck of the woods this year I had no costumes to wear even if I had the energy to spend a day sweating and Uncomfy. But I needed something swarsy, even if just for a minute!

That led to me bashing this jacket together so I could put together a vaguely Hera Syndulla inspired look. The franchise and I may be at odds, but my general will always have my heart. Draped on the Tuesday night, made on the Wednesday, slip-stitched the lining in on Friday night after a day at the con and worn on the Saturday. I think the end result was quite lovely!

I called this a ‘doodle’, as I was effectively sketching the idea of a jacket with only a vague idea of what I wanted to achieve: a short cropped jacket, possibly a grown kimono collar and power shoulders since I already had XL raglan pads pinned to my dress form for the Arcane jacket I’ve been tooling with for a year and a half (and finally finished a month ago.)

The drape evolved into panels as there is one thing I love: unnecessary panelling. This also felt appropriately Swarsy. To lean into that Her Syndulla pilot/70’s workwear vibe I wanted a back yoke and vent. (You can tell this was a super quick project bc it has a side seam and these days I am morally opposed to side seams.)

Some semblance of shaped achieved I dove straight into smashing a pattern together from the drape, and decided that I would work out any issues as I went.

The main fabric is a coated scoured cotton I bought several years ago for a Hera jacket (inspired by the Lego series) so it’s come vaguely full circle back to it’s original intention. Ish.

As I was cutting I decided it needing piping! Yes! Piping is very fun and rebellionish, and another of my favourite things. It adds a lovely definition to panelling whilst also adding support to the fairly exaggerated silhouette. The piping was made from a stretching cotton twill that I dyed several years ago for an(other) abandoned Hera project.

The piping led to an abundance of topstitching as a lazy way to keep all seam allowances in place, and then becoming a tribute to Jyn Erso and her topstitching.

The jacket was then lined in a brown fine grosgrain that I inherited from a job, which was quickly slipped stitched in. I faced the cuffs with the wrong side of the main fabric to have a featured turn back.

The final look thrown together at the most exhausted, low-effort Celebration. I was aiming for cool modern Hera Syndulla but the end result was much more April O’Neill.

There are a number of grain issues, particularly with the back panels and vents that I didn’t particularly bother to finesse from the drape to the cutting. But it’s fine! It’s a funky little jacket for one event, no one got what I was going for but I did get some compliments. And most of all I got the satisfaction of actually making something from beginning to end in a period of exhausted personal sewing drought.

[sunsailsandmoonwalks]

hera syndulla is autistic, source: me.

[letoscrawls]

They will not save the galaxy they will make it worse

[jessicas-pi]

When Father breaks the news about the Jedi to Hera, she just stares up at him in bewilderment, then runs into her room and slams the door.

She doesn't come out for hours, and when she does, her eyes are dry---she hasn't cried. At dinner, she numbly remarks that they'll have to buy her something in white, because she's in mourning now.

From that day on, she wears no other color.

Hera never sheds a tear. She can't. Not with the Empire watching. But she wears white, and hears the people around her ask each other who Cham Syndulla's daughter is in mourning for--and sometimes, she hears other people answer.

It was her soulmate, I think. I hear he was a Jedi.

She wears white long past the time of mourning has ended. She wears it defiantly at dinner parties with Imperial Admirals. She wears it when she works on her mechanic projects and when she takes flying lessons and when she graduates at the top of her class. She wears it when her family goes on the run, and then she starts talking about him.

Caleb had eyes like the clearest sea, she says abruptly, one time, when some of her peers are gathered together chatting about their soulmates and she's sitting on the edge of the group, staring solemnly at nothing.

Caleb used to call me his little sister, she laughs in tragic commiseration, when her best friend is bemoaning his soulmate's habit of referring to him as her brother-from-another-mother. He didn't know I wanted him to marry me someday.

Hera talks about him freely. She tells how they met. She tells how they talked late into the night on comm calls until her parents started confiscating her commlink overnight. But she doesn't talk about her soulmark. Few people know where it once was, and no one has seen the place it used to be.

She wears long sleeves and keeps her right shoulder covered constantly, hiding the smooth skin that bore a three-pronged mark. She has to. If she doesn't, people will realize that she has been lying to the whole galaxy since she was nine years old.

Hera wears white because she wants everyone else to believe she's mourning her dead soulmate.

But the truth is, she doesn't mourn for Caleb.

She can't mourn for Caleb.

Her soulmark is still there.

Caleb isn't dead.

[reneeofthestars]

How to Fight Back

How to Fight Back - ReneeoftheStars - Star Wars - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Summary:

Hera Syndulla insists on joining her mother, Eleni, on a relief mission to deliver supplies to a local village that is being used as an Imperial base. Hera is eager to join the fight against the Empire, but Eleni wants her daughter to understand the full scope of what that entails.

Written for @womenofswzine, "Rebel, Rebel: Women of Star Wars", a charity fan anthology celebrating all rebellion women of Star Wars! I'm so honored to have had the opportunity to work on this project; its message of hope and resistance resonates very strongly in the world right now.

If you missed preorders, you can still get your own copy during Leftover Sales, April 2nd through April 30th 2025!

Word count: 2,033

* * *

Ryloth’s moons were high in the sky when Hera caught her mother sneaking out of the Syndulla family home.

She hurried through the halls, a cantankerous Chopper wheeling behind her, warbling loudly that Hera should just go back to bed. But Hera couldn’t sleep; she was too preoccupied by the distress call that she’d intercepted while repairing Chopper’s sensor array earlier that day. The transcribed message said the Empire had set up a base in a remote village, and had begged for help. Hera had gone to her mother, already planning to amass weapons and people to go and liberate the village. Eleni Syndulla told her in no uncertain terms that Hera was not to get involved.

But Hera had spotted the shadow of her mother pass her room in the dead of night, and Hera wasn’t about to let her slip away.

An unfamiliar starship was docked down in the hanger bay. Three members of the Freedom Fighters used hovercarts to maneuver large containers into the tiny cargo hold, taking directions from –

“Mom!” Hera called, running over.

Eleni Syndulla spun around, green lekku draping over her shoulders. “Hera? What are you doing up?”

“What are you doing?” Hera retorted. She couldn’t see the contents of the containers, but she had a suspicion, and her pulse picked up. She heard Chopper rolling up behind her as he complained about his interrupted charge.

The Fighters loaded the last of the containers and waved at them both before piling into their speeders and disappearing into the night. Eleni finally responded, “I am going to the outlying village that sent the message. Our sources have confirmed that an Imperial outpost has been established there.”

Hera grinned. “We’re bringing them aid after all!”

“I am bringing them aid. You will go back to bed.”

“No!” Hera grabbed her mother’s arm. It was beyond frustrating to be treated like a child. Even though she was just a teenager, she’d already faced her share of danger. “You can’t go by yourself! And I can’t just go back to bed wondering what’s happening. Let me do this. Please, Mom. I want to help.”

Eleni peered down at her for a long moment, her green eyes searching Hera’s. Hera held her breath. Finally, the woman nodded once. “Very well. But –” she held up a finger to stave off her daughter’s excitement, “– you will do exactly as I say, without argument.”

Hera bobbed her head quickly in agreement, hot on Eleni’s heels as they boarded the ship, a grumbling Chopper reluctantly wheeling after them.

“Can I fly?” Hera pleaded. It wasn’t a large ship, and the cockpit didn’t leave much room for maneuvering; Chopper had to settle into the narrow hallway behind them.

Eleni considered it for a moment. “Once we’re in the air. But no takeoffs or landings; it’s not our ship.”

Hera managed not to pout as she squeezed into the copilot’s chair. “Whose is it?”

As the engines hummed to life, Eleni explained, “A journalist from Alderaan. We’d debated whether she should accompany me, but she’s covering a story in the capital and needs to be available tomorrow morning.”

Once the ship had gone through the take-off cycle, Eleni guided the ship out of the hanger and into the open sky. After plotting a route and making sure they were in the clear, Eleni allowed Hera to take the pilot’s chair. Hera grasped the control yoke in delight. The swooping sensation in her belly was exhilarating; all her concerns fell away as she soared through the air. This was where she belonged.

After several minutes of tapping away at a datapad, Eleni finally broke the silence. “How is your Core Worlds accent?”

Taken aback, Hera cleared her throat and replied in her best attempt at a non-Rylothian accent. “It could be better. I’ll work on it. Are we pretending to be off-worlders?”

“Indeed. We are bringing humanitarian aid from Alderaan.” Her mother’s fake accent was surprisingly good. “The ship’s credentials check out, as do our identities.” She angled the datapad towards Hera, who saw an ident card with her picture and the name “Hera Antilles”.

“I suppose ‘Syndulla’ would be a bit of a giveaway,” Hera said with a wry smile. Between her father leading the Freedom Fighters during The Clone Wars, and the framing of her parents in the assassination attempt of Senator Orn Free Ta, theirs was a well-known family name on Ryloth.

Hera settled back in her seat. “So, what are we giving the villagers? I assume rifles and pistols, but what about carbines? Any torpedoes? Grenades? Mines?”

“Jogan fruit and meilooruns. Bacta patches, stims, and vaccines. And fuel tanks and generator parts.”

Hera wrinkled her nose. “But that’s not going to help them fight against the Empire!”

“Why do you say that?”

“You can’t fight someone with a meiloorun!” She looked at her mother incredulously. “They asked for our help –”

“ – And we are giving it. ‘Helping’ doesn’t always mean ‘fighting,’ Hera.”

Lekku twitching in irritation, Hera turned her full attention to her mother. “How can we say we’re helping people if we’re leaving them at the mercy of the Empire? We need to run the Empire out, show them that we won’t allow ourselves to be bullied – especially not on our own world!”

“Are you prepared to kill them?”

The question caught Hera off-guard, and her mother pressed on, her normally gentle expression suddenly replaced with a hardness that Hera had never seen before.

“When you talk of fighting, what do you envision? Blaster fire that doesn’t actually hit anyone, but sends stormtroopers running? Explosions taking out the Empire’s war machines without anyone nearby? The notion of fighting is valiant, but have you considered that you would be ending someone’s life? You managed to avoid any casualties when you destroyed the doonium refinery, but you will not always be so lucky. If you choose to fight with violence, Hera, someday you will look down the scope of your blaster, or at your targeting computer, and make the decision to kill.”

It took Hera a moment to find her voice; her throat had gone dry. “But during the war –”

“During open war, when the stakes are high and people are dying, hard choices have to be made. Sometimes, those choices will haunt you the rest of your life. It is not some noble pursuit – it’s life and death. And there is one large distinction that you must remember: we are dealing with people now, Hera. It was easy enough to fight with weapons during the war because almost all the targets were just droids.”

From behind them, Chopper gave an indignant holler.

“Droids without developed personality matrices,” Eleni amended, a ghost of a smile on her lips before she became serious again. “But the troops that the Empire sends to Ryloth now are living, breathing people, many of whom truly believe that the Empire’s purpose is to establish peace and order. Some of them are young, fresh out of academies; some have joined the military to see the galaxy; some have families waiting for them at home. So, Hera: are you prepared to kill them?”

Hera stared at the ship consol without really seeing. “If – if I have to…” But she trailed off, because she suddenly imagined her hands on a blaster, aiming at someone and choosing to kill them, and she felt sick.

Eleni’s hand rested on Hera’s shoulder, and her voice became gentler as she continued. “There are many ways to fight, Hera. Your Uncle Gobi fights with weapons; the war wore him down to the point where brute force is all he knows. Your father fights with words whenever he can; he does not want death, and is not willing to bring retaliation to our people. Fighting can also be done in subtle ways. Defending those who can’t defend themselves; bringing hope to those who have none.” She gestured over her shoulder. “These supplies will give the people hope. It won’t drive out the Empire. But it will nourish them, heal them, give them the agency they need to live their day-to-day lives. I know it is hard to believe that it is enough, because how could it ever be enough? But the kindness we extend to one another is something that every person of every ability can do. You can always fight with kindness.”

Tears blurred Hera’s vision; she blinked them away. Eleni wrapped her arms around her daughter and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know you want to help, Hera. And I am proud of you for that. But you are a child – my child. It is my role to protect you. And that means shielding you from having to make such a choice for as long as I can. In the meantime, we will help in other ways.”

The rest of the flight was silent as Hera digested her mother’s words. Even Chopper – normally always eager to give his opinion – stayed uncharacteristically quiet. The sun was just breaking over the horizon as they approached the village, and Hera and Eleni switched seats. Eleni guided the ship to the Imperial checkpoint, careful to comply with all their directions. The stormtroopers – not a clone among them, Hera noted – confirmed their idents as citizens of Alderaan, searched the ship and cargo, and cleared them to unload.

Hera and Eleni pushed the hovercarts loaded with the supply containers down the narrow ship ramp, Chopper pushing a smaller container ahead of him. The white armor of the stormtroopers was stark against the reddish hue of the canyon-hewn homes and the multicolor skin of the Twi’leks that came to greet them. As Eleni spoke with the village leader, Hera found herself desperately wishing that she could see the trooper’s faces; with their uniformed helmets, she could almost forget that there was a person underneath.

Volunteers came to help organize the supplies, and soon the villagers had formed lines to receive the aid. Hera helped pass out meilooruns, amazed as the faces of each person lit up as they accepted the orange-and-pink fruit. Even as stormtroopers regulated the lines, interlopers on their world, threats to their daily lives, the locals thanked her profusely, grabbed her hands, and beamed like life itself was restored to them. It was midday by the time there was a break from the steady stream of people, and Hera leaned heavily against the container.

“You’re here!”

Hera peered around at the small voice. A teal-skinned Twi’lek girl no more than ten years old was staring up at her. She was skinny, her cheeks sunken, but the smile that lit up her face could power starships.

“We are,” Hera confirmed, unable to stop herself from grinning back. “I’m Hera. What’s your name?”

“I’m Numa. Did you come because of my message?”

“Your message?”

The girl nodded and dropped her voice. “I sent a signal asking for help.”

Hera squatted down so she was eye-to-eye with Numa. She dropped the Core Worlds accent and murmured with a smile, “We got your message. We came as soon as we could.”

“Do you need help fighting?” Numa whispered. “I can fight.”

Hera’s heart stuttered. Numa’s face was determined, but she was so young, so small – an image rose unbidden in Hera’s mind of the girl holding a blaster bigger than herself, and Hera’s breath caught. A fierce protectiveness flared up in her. It gave Hera pause. Was this what Eleni saw when she looked at Hera? A small child in a big dangerous galaxy who didn’t understand the risks?

“We do need help,” Hera finally said. She pressed a meiloorun into Numa’s hands. “We need to make sure that we’re taking care of each other. The best way to fight back is to live. To thrive. So, here’s my special assignment for you: keep helping the people of your village. Make sure everyone has enough to eat. If you see someone struggling, offer to aid them. Be kind. Have hope. Do you think you can do that?”

Numa nodded enthusiastically. She threw her arms around Hera and buried her face in her shoulder. “I knew you’d come.”

Hera hugged her back tightly. “We always will.”

[thewitchpaint]

My Hat Project

I've been working for several months on a hat project. I'm creating a knitted hat pattern that I have been perfecting with the intent to sell it. If I can't perfect it, I don't mind making it a free pattern because I just want to see people make them.

The hat combines my love of knitting and Star Wars- If you are familiar with the race in Star Wars called Twi'Lek, they are a fairly ubiquitous set of characters with famous ones like Hera Syndulla, Aayla Secura, and Bib Fortuna. I absolutely love the look of "Lekku", or the "head tentacles" that come off the back of their heads. There are a few crocheted patterns available, but I have yet to see a fully fleshed out knitting pattern. So far, though I'm not always pleased with the results, it's a bunch of trial and error and some engineering, so it will be an ongoing process. I've gotten to Mark IV, with Marks 1-2 being trashed and Mark III being my default one that I will wear for making online content.

Mark V will be a slightly different method from the previous ones to see if it succeeds-- I will be using a version that my friend came up with, but with some tweaks.

I have a Facebook messenger group for people that I will hope to have test knit the hat, and I'd like to have as many people as possible to test out the pattern. If anyone wants to join in on it, please feel free to DM me. It will be a somewhat advanced pattern, so you do need to have some at least intermediate knowledge to create one. I might find another place to hold a messenger type group- maybe discord once I figure out how to use it? haha.

I have some pictures here of Mark III and Mark IV. Mark III is the peach one and Mark IV is the white one.

I'm also working on trying to make crochet head pieces for wearing over the original hats. They will generally be universal in construction because I want them to fit on the hats regardless of where the Leks are sewn onto the head.

[tech-o-mania]

Relationship: Omega & Tech

Characters: Omega, dead!Tech, Hera Syndulla

Word count: ~ 2469

Summary: As a pilot of the Rebellion, Omega does not forget the one who encouraged her to choose this particular profession.

So it's time for the second fanfiction of the series. Enjoy it:)

original on ficbook

[bedlamsbard]

Hello, I know it’s probably a long time since you’ve thought about this, but i’ve been rereading Backbone and I was wondering as you’ve said you’ll probably never finish it and we already know what happened to Xian’s brother: What happened to Ojeda’s brothers?

They died.

Or maybe they didn't.

But no one in the Syndulla family will ever know for sure.

I made the decision pretty early on that there just weren't going to be answers to some of the questions about various people who disappeared after the Imperial attack on Zardossa Stix. Cham says in the first chapter that there had been over ten thousand Twi'leks in the colony and fewer than a hundred were ever found; his family had to be among that number, because that's the tragedy of it. They'll just never know. Sometimes the missing are just missing and there's never going to be an answer. (Sadly, this is very true in real world history when it comes to similar events.)

As it is I think I provided too many answers for where the Syndulla children went; three of them turned up in about six months -- I mean, Hera and Ojeda appeared within weeks of each other! Doriah and Xiaan, who aren't introduced in the present day until Chapter 3, were originally going to be missing; I don't think I knew in Chapter 1 that they were back with the fleet, which is why Cham doesn't mention them among the survivors from the colony attack. Ojeda was originally going to be permanently missing; that changed when the Lake House subplot started to develop. Nury was originally intended to also be permanently missing, but that changed when I started doing the set-up work for Down in the Devil's Lair; I don't remember how exactly that came about. I also don't know what happened to Koyi and Ilar; if I ever wanted to bring them back like Nury I could, but their official status is "missing until plot-relevant," except the plot-relevant part is that they're permanently missing. Neither one is the Twi'lek whom Ahsoka sees at the Lake House in Lair. (I do know who he is: he's not a Syndulla and he's not from the colony. Hera was the only Syndulla in Project Nemesis.)

Thanks for asking, I was actually rereading Backbone and Lair recently and some of my other Rebels fic recently! So I did have them on my mind.

[inquisitor-apologist]

Thinking of another Star War AU I Will Not Write. This time, it’s an Imperial Ghost Crew one:

Sabine Wren fails to escape the Imperial Academy, and is, for some reason, forced into a mentorship program with Hera Syndulla, an extremely competent and talented new ISB agent coming out of a decorated career in the Imperial Navy. Sabine hates her on sight. She attempts to run away at least five times a day (Hera always seems to know where she is), and makes no secret of how much she wants to join the rebel terrorists they are currently hunting. The only upside to the situation is Agent Syndulla's ancient, borderline illegal droid (he doesn't want to go through Imperial reprogramming, and Hera won't make him) who lives for chaos and is absolutely willing to hack into a Star Destroyer’s comm system to blast the Republic anthem and smuggle in smoke bombs.

Hera Syndulla was captured in an Imperial raid when she was a kid (11-12) and placed in an Imperial reeducation facility. She graduated top of her class at the Imperial Fighter Academy and served as one of the Empire's most talented TIE pilots until she was promoted to the ISB. And now she has to wrangle a teenage Mandalorian whose favorite hobbies are high treason and vandalism. Sabine's relentless rebellion starts to change her mind on the Rebellion, especially when Sabine tells her about the Duchess and what the Empire's done to Mandalore.

Chopper, of course, goes where Hera goes, even though the Empire is far too orderly for his tastes. He somehow found her after her capture and reeeducation, and covertly replaced her astromech at the Fighter Academy. He commands an army of Mouse Droids on the Star Destroyer, and takes great pleasure in using them to sneak bugs and smoke bombs into Officer's quarters. In his opinion, Sabine is the best thing that's ever happened to him--she's an excellent gunner, a fellow chaos lover, and she's gotten Hera to loosen up a bit, so it's easier than ever to sneak off with her codes to prank the Admiral.

Ezra was captured with his parents on Lothal and put into Project Harvester, where he was eventually transferred into the Inquisitorius as a Junior Inquisitor. As such, he is extremely repressed. Sabine takes one look at him and decides he's her new best friend, and by the Force she is going to radicalize him. They become fast friends, and are soon the bane of every Senior Officer's existence. But no one can track the mysterious disappearance of all of Admiral Konstantine's pants back to them, of course. They bond over shared Imperial Trauma and eventually decide that they need to get out of here as fast as fucking possible.

Kanan was captured after Order 66 and was tortured into the Inquisitorius, so he's even more emotionally constipated than Ezra. He is Struggling with attempting to parent a teenager because Vader and the Grand Inquisitor's solution to everything was torture, and for some strange reason, he doesn't want to do that with Ezra. Also, he's extremely confused whenever he looks at Hera because he gets Feelings other?? than unquenchable rage??? and he does not know how to process this At All. He ends up covering for Ezra and Sabine's shenanigans because they're just kids and he doesn't want to see them punished. So no, Admiral Konstantine, he has no idea how all the security tapes for your room on the night your pants were stolen disappeared, it's a complete mystery.

Zeb and Kallus are the leaders of the Rebel cell they're trying to capture, because there's absolutely no way Zeb would ever be Imperial. Kallus and Hera were friends back at the Imperial Academy so they've got that best friends to enemies dynamic, and Zeb and Kanan have a really old rivalry--Zeb has a habit of sneaking Force Sensitive kids out of the Empire's reach, and Kanan's been halfheartedly hunting him for years. They are absolutely kriffing, and keep asking Hera and Kanan when they're going to finally do it. Kanan is so embarrassed he can't speak, and Hera looks straight down for so long that the rebels make their getaway unchallenged.

[serialadoptersbracket]

Round 3 Polls:

(Projected length: 8 days)

Day 1:

1. Bruce Wayne vs. Pascal

2. The Doctor vs. Daenerys Targaryen

3. Inspector Barnes vs. August

4. Cale Henituse vs. Simon Petrikov

Day 2:

5. Keishin Ukai vs. Yami Sukehiro

6. Gintoki Sakata vs. Maglor

7. Kim Dokja vs. Izumi Curtis

8. Roy Mustang vs. Rune Saint John

Day 3:

9. Shōta Aizawa vs. Guts

10. Jean Valjean vs. The Fix

11. Soundwave vs. Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla

12. Agent Washington vs. Grace

Day 4:

13. David Wymack vs. Dadan

14. Bobby Nash vs. Korosensei

15. Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu vs. Jack Starbright

16. Satoru Gojo vs. Xie Lian

Day 5:

17. Eda Clawthorne vs. Sakyo Furuichi

18. Herlock Sholmes vs. Dracule Mihawk

19. Artemy Burakh vs. Kazuma Kiryu

20. Master Wu vs. Izumi Tachibana

Day 6:

21. Optimus Prime vs. Sarah Jane Smith

22. Bell-Mere vs. Cap’n Craig Cuttlefish

23. Camilla Noceda vs. Professor Hershel Layton

24. Giovanni Potage vs. Miles Edgeworth

Day 7:

25. Phoenix Wright vs. Dalinar Kholin

26. King Dedede and Meta Knight vs. Jawbone O’Shaughnessey

27. Bruno Bucciarati vs. Abigail Pent and Magnus Quinn

28. Toriel vs. Pongo and Perdita

Day 8:

29. Whitebeard vs. Lance Strongbow

30. Roronoa Zoro vs. Jody Mills

31. Sojiro Sakura vs. Kurogane and Fai D’Flourite

32. Iroh vs. Splinter

[stellanslashgeode]

W.I.P. Wednesday on a Tuesday

I keep getting inspired to write this scene and I didn’t want it to get away from me because it’s a few chapters away still. I’m posting this for @skygirlstars exclusively by the by. As a little treat.

There was an indicator light on the Ghost’s fuel pressure gauge that wouldn’t stop flickering. Hera had to take precious time out of her morning with the console lifted up soldering the connections.

Chop argued that since he could speak directly with the Ghost’s computer repairs weren’t needed. She argued that for the sake of the ship’s organic complement it should. He once more proposed she get a computer-neural interface so she could converse with the Ghost and more importantly himself without effort.

It was an old argument, one that led down the same alley Hera refused to trod. So she sipped her second mug of caf and got back to work.

Fulcrum glided into the cockpit looking like she just stepped out of a frame of a stained glass window of some Mirialan nunnery somewhere. As usual. “Captain Syndulla.”

Hera grinned and welcomed the interruption. “Morning, Miss Offee.”

Barriss closed her eyes and bowed. “The princess and I must depart soon. We have a schedule to meet.”

“Okay. Well, it was pleasant as always having the two of you visit. You’re always welcome, as you know.”

Barriss gave her a wavering smile but remained rooted to her spot.

“Something the matter? Permission is usually granted to board, disembarking is your bailiwick.”

“The princess and I must be going.” Fulcrum repeated.

“Yeah, so you said. Clear skies.”

Barriss fiddled with her fingers a bit. “I need the princess to do so…”

A dawning of realization shown its harsh light into Hera’s eyes. “You don’t mean?”

Fulcrum motioned with her forehead to the passageway behind her, gave Hera the briefest of grimaces, and shrugged nearly impeccably.

“No!”

“Credibility aside it is thus, captain.”

Hera pulled off her gloves, stood, and mom stomped over to her Mandalorian ward’s door. Sabine had long disengaged the buzzer after one of their initial arguments so she was reduced to pounding on the door itself. “Sabine! Open up!”

There was a susurrus of cursing followed by youthful giggles.

“Sabine! Don’t make me open this. Are you decent in there?” Hera glanced over at Fulcrum and found her doing that infuriating zen trance thing that Force sensitives loved to utilize when in awkward social situations.

“Just a minute?” Sabine called out through the bulkhead. There was another exchange of whispers. Then the door cracked open wide enough for Sabine to pose in the gap. She was wearing her painter’s smock, drizzled with pigment as usual, and Force knows what underneath. Her hair was tousled and last night’s mascara and lipgloss smeared. “Sup?”

Hera folded her arms and adjusted her posture. “Do you have a princess in there?”

Sabine’s eyes went wide and she affixed the blank expression teenagers use when caught red-handed at some minor infraction. “I dunno. It’s pretty messy with my projects and all. And I don’t usually make a princess check of the place before turning in.”

The snort and giggle emanating behind her spoke otherwise.

Hera massages the bridge of her nose. “Sabine. Leia needs to go now. You need to say your goodbyes.”

Sabine pursed her lips and nodded, making a show of it. “Okay, thanks.”

The door slid closed and there was another hushed conference of voices with an accompanied rustling of fabric. The door then opened to its full extend and with a startled “Oh!” Princess Leia Organa was pushed bodily into the hallway.

“Until next we meet, my princess.” Sabine made an exaggerated bow and flourish like a courtier.

Leia curtsied. “Thank you for the lessons in color theory, Lady Wren.”

“And thank You for the discourse on diplomacy and nonviolent resistance.”

“Charmed, I’m sure.” She opened her mouth and looked as if she was contemplating a different goodbye. Then she looked over at Hera. “Captain,” then she went over to Barriss’s side. “Auntie, let us away.”

“Let’s.” Barriss took Leia’s hand and walked with her out of the ship. Calmly and collected. As if they were proceeding to a formal breakfast with foreign dignitaries. Never mind the paint flakes all over Leia’s formally pristine white gown. And on her forehead and cheeks. With a prominent blue thumb smear below her chin. Never mind the half unwound hair bun spilling out of her hood. Never mind that the right side of her face was puffy like she’d fallen asleep against someone’s chest rather than a proper pillow.

Hera looked over to observe Sabine’s uncharacteristically dopey smile before she slipped once more into darkness. She grabbed the doorframe before it could slide closed again.

“Just a minute, young lady. We need to talk.”

Sabine did the thing where she wheeled around while rolling her eyes. Hera had no idea how she pulled that off without getting dizzy. “Oh yeah? What about?”

“She’s the crown princess of Alderaan!”

“Yeah, so?” Sabine countered.

“And our boss’s daughter.”

“Do you think I’m not aware of that every second we’re together?”

“She’s Ezra’s age!”

“Then you should get Ezra in here to yell at him as well. He was the one trying to wear me down with all that ‘nuthin’ but a number, what’ll it matter when we’re in our thirties’ bantha crap.”

Hera put her fits at her hips and glared at her.

Sabine slumped and looked defeated. “What am I supposed to do, say no to a princess? Look, I know she’s two years younger than me. We’re taking it slow. You trust me, right?”

“Really?”

“It’s not like she’s a Jedi or nothing! I’m aware of who and what she is, and SHE is as well. Sometimes she just wants to be a young woman. And she wants to hang out with her girlfriend. What am I supposed to do, be yet another person in her life regimenting every minute of her life towards her glorious ascension?… I’m good to her, gentle, don’t worry.”

“Sabine. I was your age too, once. I broke some hearts.”

“Yeah well so will I. And so will she. You’re acting like I blundered into this like I do everything else. I’m not. I know what I’m doing.” Hera continued her hard stare. “I’ll be careful. Besides, why are your panties in a bunch? Barriss seemed cool with it.”

She almost countered with a “What would Leia’s mother say about this?” But she knew the explosion that mentioning motherhood around Sabine would trigger. And she wasn’t her mother. Instead she just reached out her arms to hug her like a wriggling Loth cat. Hera knew there were things Sabine didn’t take seriously. Things Sabine did take seriously while pretending she did not. And things Sabine deeply held sacrosanct. And in order to parent her, one had to tread a certain path through her emotional labyrinth.

“I’ll be cool if you’re cool, then.”

“Hera! Let go, I’ve got to clean up around here.”

“Ssshhh, just give me a moment to love you.”

[tarisilmarwen]

Chapter Title: Tales of the Spectres: Sabine

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Rating: M

Character(s): Sabine Wren, Ketsu Onyo, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, Garazeb "Zeb" Orellios

Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Before they were “a crew, a team, in some ways family”, the individual members of the Spectres were always running, never knowing that their paths were being slowly, inevitably, guided towards each other.

AO3, FFNet

@spectre-week

Some discussions of blood and injury, also angst.

Preview:

---

Sabine pried heavy eyelids open, fighting against something crusted in her lashes and an overwhelming feeling of tiredness.

Her vision refused to focus. Her ears were ringing. She seemed to be lying prone, but her head and torso felt weirdly upright. Was she leaning on something?

She blinked, a sluggish, exhausted motion, and registered the blur of colors that was her armor and jumpsuit.

[btwxsixesandsevens]

A Way to Say Good-Bye

@sapphicahsokatanoweek is nearing the end! Not sad tho, excited about all the fics I get to read this weekend.

One more fic from me, one more good-bye for Hera and Ahsoka.

Summary: Hera is overjoyed to find Ahsoka again, but she knows it won't last. It never does. (Set in the middle of the Ahsoka series [ep 5]).

Tags: Hera Syndulla/Ahsoka Tano, HeraSoka, Kanan (mentioned), vaginal fingering, oral sex

Word count: 1.7k

[femmefighter]

Alone in the galaxy with just her loyal astromech, Chopper, a young Hera Syndulla searches for connections to join her on the Ghost to start fighting the Empire. Set in 11BBY just before A New Dawn.

For Sapphic Ahsoka Tano Week 2024 - Day One.

Theme - Fulcrum | One who plays an essential role; the codename for operatives in the Rebel Alliance Intelligence Service.

Prompt - Cuddles and Comfort

[75-spectrekestis]

Threw this fic up late yesterday but here’s my entry for day 2 of Spectre Week <3

Rating: Teen and up

(Slight warnings for minor blood and underage drinking)

Relationships: Hera Syndulla & Ahsoka Tano

~

This fic was really just me given the opportunity to write about how Hera and Ahsoka came to know each other alongside Hera finding her footing in the Rebellion. I totally like to think that Hera and Ahsoka had a friendship going on before the Rebellion took up much of their time and energy.

[lena-hills]

Star Wars: Rebels Kanan/Hera Regency AU is live!

Mostly T (2 eventual smut scenes in later chapters, marked to be skippable), 30k words total across 8 chapters, updates weekly Monday night/Tuesday day!

Summary: After Miss Hera Syndulla's carriage is held up by a dashing highwayman and his two young accomplices, she realizes they may be the perfect solution to the ridiculous requirements of her father's will. But as she gets to know the man behind the scoundrel facade, she begins to wonder if a marriage on paper is truly all she wants.