So Kanan had died. That was old news by now, the wound had scabbed over, so long as nobody picked at it they'd be fine.
Ezra might be dead. That wound was still ripe and fresh and painful.
Oh, and Hera was pregnant. That wasn't a wound, but it was a headache.
Since Zeb was off frolicking with Kallus on Lira San, it fell to Sabine and Chopper to make sure Hera was cared for. But, Chopper was a droid after all, so the cleaning up of vomit and cooking (which Ezra or Kanan would always do, Sabine thought bitterly as she attempted to replicate Ezra's kimchi for a whiny pregnant Twi'Lek) and most everything else fell to Sabine. Chopper was the cuddle toy, if anything, despite the durasteel he was made of.
Not only that, but now she was Governor of Lothal. Azadi would be, but there's a really kriffing weird rule on Lothal that you can't be governor if you're older than fifty-three, apparently the law was erected because governors kept dying in office.
Also, despite the white hair, Sabine had never thought of Azadi as more than forty, maybe forty-five, years old. Turns out, he was sixty-three.
Lothal's government was otherwise pretty straightforward, you had the Lothilian House of Order with forty senators from various parts of the planet, and three hundred representatives, one from every sector of Lothal, to make the laws, the govenor to sign the laws or veto them, and the Lothalian House of Justice, the highest court on the planet, to make sure the laws didn't violate the Writings of Lothal, aka the constitution. It was the picture of perfect democracy.
In the times of the Republic, there'd also been two people elected to represent Lothal in the Senate on Coruscant, but alas, when the Empire took over all, of the planets that didn't make a specific yearly income lost their Senate seats until they pulled the right amount of income (which was a lot). Lothal wasn't part of the Empire anymore anyway, so it didn't really matter.
But anyway, Sabine was just standing here, in the galley of a spaceship, trying to reheat her replication of her boyfriend's kimchi for a pregnant Twi'Lek, headphones on blasting Alderaanian punk music into her ears (Leia had introduced her, believe it or not) while she cried into the jar of food, while there was a karking planet to run and a hormonal eight-months pregnant Twi'Lek who had been removed from missions until the baby was born and couldn't touch her toes.
"Damn you and your kriffing perfect kimchi, Ezra!" Sabine screeched, throwing the jar across the room.
The jar shattered, splattering the damn kimchi all over the wall, and Sabine sank to her knees and cried.
She wasn't exactly sure when, but at some point she realised that she was leaning on Hera's shoulder as the woman stroked her hair with one hand and with the other, hugging the shoulder that wasn't touching her own.
Looking back, she'll never be able to quite figure out when the two of them cleaned up the kimchi and glass mess and ate ration sticks and then went to bed.
Hera Syndulla, fearless rebel leader, was screeching and gasping as a small child, equally pissed off, emerged from her nether regions.
She'd taken the Phantom out for a spin, sick of sitting around and twiddling her thumbs, and the stupid karking child? children? in her decided enough was enough and began takeoff sequence.
She ended up gently crashing the Phantom and Hondo having to pull her out, and now she was in a cave in who-knows where with Vizago, Vizago, of all people, delivering her baby. Who knew that the Devaronian had had training in delivering little banthachits?
And even in these really odd circumstances, she didn't karking care, she just wanted the little chits out of her at this point.
Curse you and your nether regions, Kanan Jarrus, Hera thought.
But finally, the pain had ceased, Sabine had gotten there (with a change of clothes, thank you Ashla) and there were two tiny cucumber in her arms.
"The boy is Jacen Caleb Syndulla," Hera snapped as she took the boy from Hondo.
"As for the girl- oh look Sabine she's a Twi'Lek!" Hera squealed, running a hand over her newborn daughter's head, her hands feeling the little bumps where lekku would soon sprout out of.
"Yes, I know, you've only pointed it out six times," Sabine grumbled, which would've been more convincing if not for the huge smile on her face.
Not only do I have two little siblings, now maybe Hera can cook for herself so I can get my chit together and run this karking planet! Sabine thought happily.
"The girl will be named Dawn Maynima Syndulla, and my gosh Sabine, she's a karking Twi'Lek!" Hera said gleefully.
"I know, Hera, she's a Twi'Lek, and Jacen has green ears and his father's nose," Sabine said.
"Ooh, I didn't even realise!" Hera squealed, booping Jacen's nose, eliciting a giggle from the newborn. Dawn was fast asleep.
Sabine just about screamed as the clock silently announced that it was now three in the morning. And here she was, still awake, signing laws, writing reports.
Jacen and Dawn were both a little under a year old now, and Jacen talked, a lot. It was annoying and cute at the same time.
And Dawn, mother's little girl Dawn, couldn't talk, and it was found out later that she was deaf, because Force forbid being a big sister be easy, so Sabine added another task to her daily to-do list- teaching Hera, Jacen, and Dawn GBSL, Galactic Basic Sign Language, and a bit of MSL, Mando'a Sign Language.
And now her brain was stuck trying to remember what the kriff the sign for frustration was as she face-desked.
"Governor? Are you alright?" Her aide, a yellow Torgruta named Jiioa asked, picking up the signed laws and dumping about twenty more laws to sign on the desk.
"Yeah, don't mind me, I'm just trying to get my chit together," Sabine says grumpily, signing yet another law.
"If you need anything.." they trailed off, tiding up the desk a bit while they spoke.
"It's okay, Jii, I'm fine," Sabine said, forcing a smile.
"Garazeb kriffing Orrelios, I karking hate you so much. You were supposed to be back by now! Or rather, you were supposed to be back about... oh, fifteen rotations ago," Sabine snaps, glaring at the Lasat through the transmission.
"Well, Alexsandr and I quite like this planet!" Zeb respondes, smirking.
"Mhm. Have fun on your honeymoon, Garazeb Orrelios-Kallus," Sabine yells, shutting off the transmitter, cutting off Zeb's protest of "It's not a honeymoon!" but she knows what he was saying, and at this point she doesn't. karking. care.
Also, it totally is a honeymoon, no matter what he says, Kallus slipped up one day and told her.
She howls in frustration- though it sounds a bit like a battle cry, her mom would be proud- and grabs her scissors, starts cutting her hair at random to alleviate her frustration.
"It's time for a break, Sabine," Hera calls, as if on cue.
Sabine jumps and whips her head around, sending little chunks of hair flying.
Hera's dressed in her blue flightsuit, with her double baby carrier on over it, with Dawn in the front, grinning (kindly) at the angry Mandalorian while she plays with her left lek, a new obsession of hers now that she has lekku, and Jacen in the back, talking about who-karking-knows what.
"I can't take a break, Hera, I'm running a planet!" Sabine says, running her fingers through her jet black, now much shorter hair, sending more hair to the floor, giving off a less convincing effect.
She'd stopped keeping up with dye and simply let the dark purple grow out a long time ago, and now her natural hair had returned for the first time in a long time. How long? A very long time.
"Not for two weeks, you're not. You're more stressed than a Tauntaun rider on Life Day. You and I are going on vacation, wherever you want, and Jiioa and Bâo will run this loth-wolf of a planet. Everyone needs time off every now and then, and frankly you haven't been sleeping much."
So they'd ended up going to the newly liberated Ryloth, and Cham met his grandkids and Sabine cut her hair with actual purpose and style in mind, and dyed it red, and later, purple. All that was old news by now.
So Kanan had died. That was even older news, if it was even new enough to be news anymore.
So Ezra hadn't meant that he was counting on Sabine to run Lothal, he was counting on her to find him someday, damnit.
Oh, and Ashoka literally had no need for a staff, a karking staff, she had kriffing lightsabers, and the Torgruta in question was quite defensive of the damn staff, which had a karking name, insisted on Sabine referring to the kriffing staff by the name, which was Barriss, for some reason.