Darker the Night (A Star Wars Rebels AU)

Chapter 28

"Come in, Syndulla."

Hera had been summoned to Admiral Enneb's extremely tidy, small office in the old Starfighter Corps hangar on Coruscant. Like most large buildings and hangars on the massive city-planet, it now belonged to and housed the Grand Army of the Republic.

The Admiral's office seemed to her like the calm eye in a sandstorm. The war had dragged on long enough that High Command was in a low-key panic about dwindling troops and Separatist victories in systems across the galaxy. Public opinion about the war, the Jedi, the Senate- even the Republic itself- had turned in a very unfavorable direction. Vitriol toward the major players was no longer just tabloid fodder- all the big holonet news sources had something to say, with pundits arguing nonstop on every channel. The war room and the barracks were constantly noisy and crackling with tension. As the Admiral's door swished closed behind her, Hera took a deep breath, glad to be away from it all for a moment.

"Syndulla, you're being promoted to captain, effective immediately," the Admiral said in her crisp Coruscanti accent. Her tone was perfunctory, but that wasn't unusual. "You're getting your own squadron."

"Thank you," Hera said, smiling- Val would have said it was just like their father's practiced, gracious "politician smile"- the kind of smile that didn't give too much away. Deep down, though, she allowed herself to feel just a modicum of the pride the moment deserved.

The Admiral, who was not keen on emotional displays, allowed the smiling with a stern expression. "It's about time, I know," she said. "High Command doesn't know whether it's coming or going anymore- and you didn't hear that from me. I had to suggest creating a new squadron. They're particular about the clone pilots, but it's gotten to the point where they have to consider other options. You're one of the best options they have, whether or not they realize it."

"I'll do my best."

"Yes. You will. There won't be any ceremony- no one has the time. And your squadron will be deployed as soon as you're ready, which had better be soon. You'll be getting the scraps from other squadrons, in addition to a bunch of cadets, so you know what that means."

"I'll have my work cut out for me trying to keep them alive?"

"Exactly. But if anyone can do it, it's you."

"I appreciate the faith you've always had in me, Admiral."

"Faith?" the Admiral scoffed. "Syndulla, don't be naive. I don't need to have faith when it comes to a pilot with your skill. There's no better fighter pilot in the fleet, Jedi included, and they should know it."

"It's still nice to hear."

"You worked hard to get where you are. You deserve the praise. There's no 'nice' about it."

Hera nodded. It seemed like the best response.

"You're a strong leader, Syndulla- but it's not easy being the one in charge, and you still have a lot to learn," the Admiral said. "You're going to have to make decisions you don't want to make. The best advice I can give you is to remember your goal, and who your enemy is, at all times- don't get mired in the little things, like personal feelings. You have a job to do. If your goal and your enemy are always clear in your mind, you'll have a much easier time making the difficult decisions. Good luck, Captain. Dismissed."

Hera left the Admiral's office and headed to the barracks, brooding over what she'd been told. Her father most likely would have agreed with that advice, but he often made decisions with a single-mindedness that was at best irritating and at worst hurtful or even dangerous. Surely she could do better, and lead with compassion?

In the barracks, she found Chopper playing sabacc with a few other members of her current squadron and winning, much to the chagrin of the pilots sitting around the table. They all had astromechs, of course, but the majority of astromechs in the Republic Navy were subjected to regular memory wipes and thus behaved in a much less eccentric manner than her own droid. Hera refused to allow Chopper's memory to be wiped. He was full of valuable information that made him exceedingly useful in a dogfight, and she owed a lot of her success- and her life- to him. Wiping his memory would be a betrayal.