No longer just an Imp - Badgerfrog101 (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

A heavy sigh escapes him as he leans forward, resting both furry forearms on the top of the bar. Large green eyes stare ahead at the bottles lining the wall, too lost in thought to actually see them. He throws back the rest of his drink with practiced ease, nodding to the bartender to refill once again. It’s comfortably warm in the dimly lit room, in stark contrast to the wretched ice moon he’d been on mere days ago. His stomach clenches as it’s hit with fresh waves of worry over the agent he’d left there. Had the Empire come for him? The thought of him shivering alone in that desolate hell makes his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He shouldn’t feel like this. The man had been his sworn enemy for over a year. Had chased him and his family all over the galaxy. He would’ve even killed him had it not been for Ezra! He shouldn’t be worried about the human at all; should be happy if he’s out of the picture. One less imp to deal with. But he’s not just any imp anymore.

By the time they’d huddled into that small cave to wait for rescue, they’d already formed an alliance, a kinship of sorts; a mutual respect and understanding. Zeb hadn’t expected conversation to come easy with his rival and yet they’d talked throughout the night; shared stories and past hurts and challenged each other’s beliefs. Only stopping once exhaustion overcame them.

He can almost feel the man’s warmth where he’d rested against him. Can feel the blow he’d given him upon waking in such a state. It’s no surprise he’d reacted that way. They’d been enemies for so long, finding oneself in such a vulnerable state in close proximity to threat warrants knee jerk reactions. Even if they’d formed a temporary truce.

But that’s the thing, he’s not so sure it is temporary. At least, a part of him hopes it isn’t. He can’t explain it but through that night, he’d begun feeling a peculiar tug pulling him toward the human. It is a wonder how Kallus seems drawn to, connected even, to his people, the lasat. He’d even played his part as warrior while the ashla guided them toward Lira San, fulfilling the prophecy. Since escaping the ice moon, that thought has nagged at him constantly.

His ears twitch as he tries to take a sip, finding the glass empty. He’d not even realized he’d been drinking, too lost in thought. Feeling foolish, he lowers the glass and looks around the bar hoping no one had seen. A rather pretty theelin catches his eye, smiling coyly at him from where she’s perched across the bar. Her posture and expression are just as alluring as her tight-fitting outfit. Typically, he’d relish the opportunity to spend the night with such a beautiful being but the knot in his gut assures him there’s little chance he’d even be able to unsheathe.

He smiles politely back with a closed off look that lets her know he’s not available tonight. He turns back to his empty glass to avoid looking at her disappointed pout, feeling utterly miserable as he leaves a few credits and exits the bar. The crisp night breeze ruffles his fur, bringing memories of the freezing gusts on the ice moon to mind. His ears flutter as if to shake the unwelcome thought away. Large lumbering strides quickly take him back to the Ghost, to his home.

It’s quiet inside, everyone having apparently gone to their bunks for the night. He secures the locks, ensuring the safety of his family before making his way to the galley. “Ye didn’t have to leave it open. I’s not safe.” Zeb tiredly scolds the twi’lek lounging in the wooden chair skimming a data pad he knows holds her favorite stories.

“You’re home early. Thought you’d have a late night.” Hera says, ignoring his reproach as her eyes remain on the pad. She knows too well how possessively protective lasat are of their loved ones and doesn’t want to be lectured by her friend about unnecessary risks like keeping the ramp unlocked for him. It’s not like she had it lowered! She just waiting to see if he’d be coming home tonight. With how tightly wrung he’d been lately, a little hanky panky would do him good!

“Yeah well, I’m home.” He says miserably, his somber tone making her stomach clench with worry. Had someone rejected his advances, hurting his ego?! She frowns deeply as she sees the look on his face, something’s not right! “Do I have to beat someone up?” She asks seriously, ready to throw down whatever bar cat hurt her friend. “Nah. Nothin’ like that.” He assures, shaking his head and looking painfully tired all the sudden.

She watches his large shoulders sag as he sulks into the couch. “What’s bothering you Zeb? You’ve not been right since Bahryn.” Hera says gently, putting her data pad to the side to give him her full attention. The concern in her brilliant eyes instantly pulls the truth from him, despite his desire to keep it hidden. A heavy sigh escapes him, his massive muscles flexing for a moment as if fighting to hold the words in.

“I wasn’t alone.” He says simply, ears lowering as he stares down at the floor, elbows resting on his muscular thighs. The hum of the ship fills the silence as Hera waits patiently for him to find the right words. She’d thought his story had seemed a bit incomplete when she debriefed him days ago. “Agent Kallus followed me inta the escape pod before it took off. Don’ think he thought that one through.” He adds with a weak laugh that dies almost instantly. Hera’s eyes widen at the statement, her body bracing for what’s to come.

“Is he…” She trails off, not wanting to ask and honestly not wanting to know if her friend had in fact killed him. Zeb shakes his large head dismissively, shifting in his seat slightly. “No. Least he wasn’t when I left him.” He says darkly, a strange feeling as if he’d betrayed the agent flaring up in his chest. It takes him a few moments to gather words, deciding to start from the beginning and tell her everything.

“He was injured in the crash, broken leg. Didn’t wanna fight an injured opponent, wouldn’ be fair. So, I called a temporary truce. We had to work together to get outta that monster filled hole. He had the chance ta off me…but he helped me up instead.” He explains, a strange note in his deep voice that Hera can’t quite pin. Another heavy sigh escapes him as he shakes his head. “Wouldn’ta believed it if I hadn’t been there.” He adds, knowing she’s probably feeling the same. But she knows he’d never lie to her. Not tell her the whole truth, obviously, but never lie.

“Anyway. We found a cave to hole up in to ‘scape the storm. We’d nothin’ to do but wait ‘n talk.” Another long pause follows as he chooses what to say. “There was a point where I thought I got through to him. Got him ta start questionin’ things. The way he started talkin’ after…I really…I dunno. I thought…maybe he’d changed.” It feels odd saying such a thing, like wishing for the impossible. But his gut had picked up on it that night and he’s learned to trust his gut.

“Feels wrong sayin’ it but…he really isn’t so bad. Misguided, I think. When ya came to pick me up, I offered for him to come with us.” Zeb admits, sheepishly sneaking a peak sideways to the captain. Hera’s eyebrows raise in surprise, shocked her friend would be so willing to believe his rival after a single night together. Of all the crew, Zeb hated Kallus the most! And he had the most reason to, with what the agent helped do to his home world. Maybe he had gotten a concussion in the crash after all. It’s the only logical explanation for the way he’s acting.

“You really think you got to him?” She asks gently, her look kind yet skeptical, trying to coax him into seeing how crazy he sounds. He sighs heavily, knowing how unbelievable it seems. “Well, he opted to stay behind ‘n wait for the Empire so I must not’ve.” He resigns, frowning deeply at the floor, looking terribly put out. It breaks her heart to see him look this way, so defeated. She stays quiet for a few moments, giving his emotions time to settle.

“We don’t know that for sure. You may have planted the seed.” She says placatingly, the gentleness in her voice easing his mind. “Yeah, maybe. Can’t help but keep wonderin’ if he’s ya know…still there.” He says grimly, his heart tightening as he once again imagines the huddled form of the man, shivering alone in the frozen tundra of that moon.

Hera’s eyes widen slightly, not wishing that kind of fate on even the crazy ISB agent that’d been a constant thorn in her side. “Tell you what. We’re not that far from Bahryn. I’ll circle us back and if he’s not there, we’ll assume the Empire found him.” Hera offers, her desire to care for her family far outweighing her fatigue.

She smiles at the comical expression on the lasat’s face, his ears twitching the way they do when he’s delighted. “But. You’re co-piloting. If I’m losing sleep, so are you.” She adds firmly, the playful smirk on her face betraying her serious tone. “Deal!” Zeb agrees quickly, desperate to be rid of the awful worry that he’d left the human to die alone. “And you have to tell me what you both talked about. I want All the details. If he convinced you of all people to think he’s not so bad, then I need to know how.” She adds as they make their way to the co*ckpit.

Chapter 2: Facing a terrible truth

Chapter Text

His vision blurs, breaths coming in short, restricted gasps, nearly inaudible even in the still silence of the sterile quarters that is his assigned room. The pounding of his heartbeat deafening to his own ears. “no…no…no…” He moans despairingly, the last futile attempt to reject the information clearly displayed on the data pad in his shaking hands, so completely at odds with what he’d believed for his entire adult life. It was a genocide. An entire planet obliterated to keep an Imperial construction project secret. Not just Geonosis but the neighboring planets as well.

Lasan flashes in his mind’s eye, the screams of those poor beings as they slowly disintegrated. Not a fast death, a slow and torturous one. It couldn’t have just been for an example, not with how close the planet was located to Geonosis. His stomach clenches terribly enough to pull a pained cry from him, the pathetic sound cut short by the tightness in his throat. Lasan was in the shortest flight path between the Empire and Geonosis…he helped destroy the planet, Zeb’s planet, to keep the project a secret. Not to secure the safety of the galaxy from those who would overthrow it but to hide the Empire’s dirty secret.

A pained groan escapes him, his reddened eyes flickering around the room as if searching for a different explanation, one that didn’t result in him being a monster. Tears finally stream from desperate golden eyes when his reeling mind cannot conjure another excuse. Never did he believe when he began asking questions that the truth would be so agonizing, that he’d have to face his own atrocious involvement in operations too ghastly to speak of. Guilt floods his chest like searing hot pain, his body trembling as if rejecting the excruciating truth.

Twenty years, he’d believed the lie the Empire fed him, that he was serving a higher purpose, ensuring safety and order throughout the galaxy, that he was doing what’s right. He’d believed it with every thread of his being, internalizing its mantras and rules to the point of blind faith, following orders without question even when they felt wrong. He’d always found an angle, an excuse, a way to reframe the orders into a nasty task that had to be done for the greater good. That’s how he could live with himself. But now…his mind reels at a maddening pace, reliving all the atrocities he’d carried out, all the orders he should have defied, would have had he believed more in his own morals than he did the Empire’s words.

Rage flares through his chest, making his blood boil and body tremble. How could they?? How could they manipulate him like this? How could he let them? How could this have happened?! His breathing becomes rapid, hands balling into fists so tight his nails draw blood from the palms. They have to pay. They turned him into a weapon, a killing machine to be used as they will on whomever and whatever they wanted. But he’s no longer blind. He should turn this weapon they’ve created on them, slaughter every last one of them for what they’ve done.

His breath catches, shocked by the strength of that hideous desire. Is this really all he is now? A bloodthirsty murderer hellbent on revenge. A fresh wave of guilt mixed with self-loathing fills his stomach which tightens angrily against it. He barely has time to make it to the fresher before what little is in his body comes retching up. After what feels like hours, retching turns to dry heaving and finally his body settles enough that he collapses to sit on the cold tile floor, feeling more pathetic and disgusting then he’d ever been.

He slows his breathing, golden eyes closing as he fights the urge to grab his borifle and put himself out of this misery. No, it’s not revenge he wants, it’s justice. Wants to set things right and have those at fault to be stopped from continuing this sickening cycle. ‘Including me?’ The question echoes in his mind, making his heart drop with paralyzing guilt. He was part of that cycle through his own blind faith and ignorance. He’s just as guilty as they are. The thought doesn’t sit right with him. No, they knew what they were doing, intentionally manipulated him. That is different but he’s still not innocent. He can’t be excused so easily. Shouldn’t be.

His fingers rub at his temples trying to ease the throbbing headache making it hard to focus. ‘Who am I even? I’ve given everything to serve the Empire. Even my ability to make my own opinions, biting back what I want to say and quieting any questions I have out of duty and obligation.’ It should’ve been clear that any system that doesn’t allow questions to be asked is evil. But he was only 12 when he’d enlisted, desperate and alone, still reeling from the loss of his family, his home, everything he’d known and loved. He’d clung to the promises of the Empire like a lifeline and devoted himself completely to it even repressing his own freedom to serve.

He wasn’t always this rigid, obsessive, mistrustful man. ‘This monster’. His golden eyes close against the tears, his mouth trembling as he thinks back to his childhood and who he was before. He’d been loving, so incredibly loving! Everything he did was for his father and his beloved little sister who’d he’d been ridiculously protective of. His heart had been light, laughter came easily and freely despite the hardships his little family endured. He always wore a smile. A sad breath of a sob escapes his tightened throat as he buries his face in his hands, elbows resting on the knees he draws up. When was the last time he’d smiled? Been truly happy, not just with the brief joy of winning a battle.

Utterly defeated, he allows himself to finally break down, a strange tinge of pride tinting the pain as if finally expressing himself truly is a personal rebellion against the Empire. Eventually the tears slow, leaving him feeling spent and exhausted. He leans his head against the wall, arms crossing atop his knees. A brief smile passes over his face, realizing that curiosity is the only thing the Empire hadn’t taken from him. That curiosity is what led him to ask those burning questions, the ones Zeb had planted in his mind, making it impossible to ignore.

Golden eyes, profoundly sore from tears close and the image of the lasat appears before him. That endearingly soft smile on that purple furry face, those stunningly green eyes bright with a cautious hope. The sincerity in his brusque voice as he ensured him that they would treat him fairly. He takes a shaky breath, tears well up once more. How desperately he wished now that he’d taken him up on that merciful offer. Even before he can consider what would’ve happened, his heart clenches knowing that it’d be impossible. Just a dream.

Joining the ranks of those he’d hunted for over a year wouldn’t save him from the horrid truth he’s now facing. Yet he can’t help but yearn for the lasat’s company, which further confuses him. His deadened and dazed eyes search the fresher’s ceiling for an explanation, the dull lights making him feel sick. It’s because he’s been living in a cold and sterile environment wherein all beings act like droids, coded and strict, obeying their orders, standing on decorum, and pushing down their true thoughts and feelings. Zeb is the complete opposite.

Zeb is an open book; his expressions are clear not only on his face but in his body posture and the movements of his ears. He’s warm and genuine, saying exactly what he thinks without regulation. He is so genuine and free that for the first time since he was 12, Kallus had been able to open up a fraction, letting the disciplined mask he wears drop and share glimpses of his true self.

Another shaking breath overtakes him, as an overwhelming longing clench his insides. He desperately wants to be in that genuine company, to feel a connection with another being. Having had a small taste of that on Bahryn, it feels the same as the description of withdrawals from spice. He needs more!

‘I don’t deserve it. After all I’ve done. Especially to Zeb.’ The thought is like freezing water crashing over him, snapping him to reality. It’s true, he knows it. He won’t deserve that connection, not until he's started to make up for what he’s done. He’ll never make up for it entirely. He’s done too much wrong to ever possibly make up. But he needs to do something!

He sighs heavily as he makes up his mind. He can’t leave the Empire and join the rebels straight out like Zeb had suggested. That’s selfish and besides Zeb, who would even consider believing it’s not an act? No, he’ll do the most damage to the Empire by taking it down from the inside, where it believes itself to be impenetrable. He’ll pull strings and sabotage the Empire discreetly. He’ll continue searching for information and pass on anything helpful to the rebellion. But how? His stomach sinks with despair. How will I get it to them? Who would believe it? High ranking, devoted ISB Agent Kallus suddenly trying to give intel to his sworn enemies. He snorts darkly, feeling lost and agonizingly alone.

Golden eyes shut tightly closed, a grimace on his face as the utter loneliness of his situation crashes on him. His arms wrap around him subconsciously, in a futile attempt to comfort himself in the crushing void around him. He’s alone in the galaxy, no one to help him, no one to confide in, no one to believe his desire to do good. ****

The room is silent, the force wielder deep in meditation, reaching out for guidance and answers. ‘Master, help me’ resounds in her mind, the padawan part of her yearning for her old master. She sighs sadly, trying to let go of the attachment and failing. At the very least, she can set it aside as she opens herself more to the force and concentrates. Her brow furrows as she feels a faint disturbance, curiously drawing nearer, a frown growing as she senses the intense agony of a poor being.

Not what she is searching for but for some reason, she can’t pull away. She exhales slowly, opening herself further to connect with the being, her compassionate heart pained by the torment he’s in. Yes, it’s a male, human from what she can feel. Her breath catches as she feels where the man is, brow furrowing with concentration as she listens and feels. It’s deeply unpleasant, feeling the intense emotions of another, but she’s confident that this being will do great good for the rebellion.

Once she senses the man’s emotions settling, she exhales deeply once more steadying herself as she pushes her own force towards him, suggesting where and when to meet her. That he’s not alone. She hears him, she’s here. ****

Chapter 3: Meeting with fulcrum

Chapter Text

Putrid stink mixes with the sickly-sweet smell of perfume and incense as he walks down the dimly lit alley, his footsteps heavy on the slick cobblestone. He fights a cringe as the thick pads of his feet touch unknown liquid puddling on the ground, trying not to think about what it might be; rainwater, yes, but mixed no doubt with bodily fluids, drugs, and various types of alcohol. Large green eyes narrow at the whor*s dancing slowly, alluringly in their display windows lining the alley, promising passerby with a good time. One look at the massive lasat and their coy smiles dim slightly, shrinking under his disgruntled expression.

He hates the concept of selling one’s body to strangers for money. Back on Lasan, they never had such a thing. When he’d learned that most beings in that profession aren’t there by choice and are considered no more than property to those who ‘own’ them, he’d lost his appetite for a week. Slavery makes his hackles raise and stomach boil with righteous anger. But setting the whor*s of an entire city free is not his mission today.

His nose wrinkles as he begrudgingly treks through the wretched city to the rendezvous point, the irritable expression on his face warding off all nearby beings, ensuring no one will delay him. Loud laughs pierce the night air as he passes a rather rowdy bar full of shameless, drunken beings with prostitutes on their arms and in their laps.

The bars and gambling houses lining the street are dimly lit with gaudy décor that can’t possibly mask the shabbiness and filth of the establishments. His keen eyes scour the bustling crowd around him, all of whom look past one another with an unspoken agreement to complete discretion. This is the place to go if one wants to indulge without being seen or heard.

He had to admit, Ahsoka did find the perfect place for a secret drop off point to retrieve intel from the new Fulcrum agent. Until a safe and reliable communication method is established for them to relay intel to the rebellion, they’d have to rely on the tried and true, yet more risky method of drop off points in the shadiest of hiding places.

Of course, the parameters of the deal are strict; intel is to be left at the secret location in the exact coordinates given, precisely at the time allotted giving the agent time to abandon the area before the lone rebel assigned to retrieve the info disc arrives. Absolutely no contact between parties to ensure the secrecy of the agent’s identity. Only Ahsoka is to know. But the trustworthiness of the agent remains unknown. There remains a very real possibility that the agent’s intel is false or worse, that this drop-off is actually a trap. He shakes his head at the thought but doesn’t rule it out completely. It’d be foolish to go to such lengths to capture a lone rebel.

A quiet sigh leaves him as he exits the red-light district, a fraction of relief softening the tightness in his chest before his fur stands on end at a sudden movement to his right. On instinct, his large hand moves for the borifle on his back pausing as he spots a clearly inebriated twi’lek stumble out of a bar. The man turns slightly before doubling over to spew the contents of his stomach onto the street. Zeb’s large green eyes roll at the sight, taking a breath to tame his own stomach at the awful wretching sounds. He swallows his distaste and pushes ahead, cursing that he’d been the one assigned to come to this deplorable place.
But Kanan isn’t with them, off on his and Ezra’s Jedi cause. The thought makes his stomach clench with longing. The crew just isn’t the same without those two humans, incomplete. The unknown of when they’ll return after completing their mission of taking out those inquisitors making the distance even worse. He’d tried his best to pretend it isn’t a big deal with Ezra, told him they’d even swap war stories after they’d toppled the Empire. But truth is, it killed him seeing them leave, his gut telling him that something bad is going to happen. They’re stronger when they’re together, all of them.

He shakes his head once, trying to clear it of those dismal thoughts. With Kanan gone, this mission automatically falls on Zeb’s broad shoulders. He didn’t like it but he’d do it a million times if it kept Hera and Sabine far from this skemo hole. As a lasat, it’s in his nature to be very protective of those he loves and with their numbers suddenly cut down nearly half, he feels even more that it’s his responsibility to keep his beloved females safe.

Both Hera and Sabine are beautiful women who’d no doubt be delayed by every passing ruffian or worse, if caught off guard maybe even drugged and kidnapped, forced into one of those display windows to join the ranks of the enslaved. The thought alone pulls a low growl from his throat, rumbling deeply in his chest as his teeth bare slightly, sending a passerby fleeing into the safety of the nearest bar. The ashla couldn’t save the skemo who’d attempt to do such a thing to his family members; he’d tear their limbs off with his bare hands.

Above the noise of the crowd, his keen ears perk, picking up a familiar stride ahead that rips him from his thoughts. Green eyes snap toward the sound and scour the passerby until he spots his target disappearing into a side street. The sight is brief but enough for him to know who that hooded being is, he’d be able to spot that man a mile away with all the times they’ve crossed paths. An odd feeling stirs in his stomach. With the old rage he’d harbored for the human having been drained the night they’d spent on Bahryn together, he doesn’t know how he should feel seeing the man but that brief flicker of happiness making his stomach flutter surely isn’t it.

He chastises himself. They’d made a temporary truce that night and the agent had gone back to serve the Empire the next day. Though they hadn’t crossed paths in the months that followed, surely, the man is still his enemy. Only that one night changed things, making it more complex than simple hatred. He understands Kallus better, respects him even and believes the agent feels the same as he. But then again…why is he here in this ashla forsaken city?

Setting his feelings aside as well as the unknown status of their relationship, he focuses on the task at hand. The most important thing to do is find out why the agent’s here. If he’d followed Fulcrum to the rendezvous point, that would be disastrous! He silently follows down the side street, his stomach dropping a moment when he can’t find the man. There are beings lining the narrow, darkened street but movement at the far end catches his attention. For a brief moment, he sees that familiar profile as Kallus enters a door, feeling strangely impressed with how fast the human was able to put such distance between them.

He moves towards the spot Kallus had disappeared in as fast as he can without raising suspicion, wondering why there are so many doors down this stretch of the street. His eyes widen as it dawns on him what this place is; surely the restrained and disciplined agent wouldn’t visit such an establishment! He pushes down the criticism, remembering the few times he himself had visited such a place; loneliness and primal need urging him to find relief and comfort in the fleeting companionship of a willing stranger.

This isn’t a whor* house, he would never in a million years enter one of those! Instead, these are rooms where two willing strangers can meet and act out their desires for however long they’d rented the space. If you didn’t have a partner with you, you could rent the room and wait for a stranger to enter. You could even specify the gender and species you desire to be displayed on the pad beside the door, streamlining the process.

Nothing inherently wrong with it, just two willing beings seeking release. Yet it made him feel filthy both times he’d rented such a room. He’d tried to convince himself that it’s no different than meeting someone in a bar and having a one night stand in a hotel yet it just feels different for him. Perhaps because he could lie to himself that he’d gone to a bar to drink with no other intentions. This, he had no excuse for his motives.
He stands outside the door Kallus entered, unsure what to do. The light on the side of the credit collection box clearly shows that only one being is in there, reflecting to passerby that there’s a chance for intimacy inside but no specifications listed. Is it Kallus’ intention to escape the confines of the overbearing Empire for a few hours to express himself and his desires freely? The thought both hurts and excites Zeb, making his brain feel even more scattered. The man he knows doesn’t seem the type who’d do such a thing.

Then again, everything he’d thought about the man was turned sideways the night they’d spent on the ice moon. He’d learned enough about him to understand he’s far more complicated than he’d thought, even honorable in a strange way.

The timer beside the collection box shows the room is rented for only an hour. Is he that confident of securing a mate and acting things out within such a restricted time frame? Or is he doing something else in there such as interrogating a captured Fulcrum agent? The lasat worries his large bottom lip as he mulls over what to do.

If the agent had come here to meet a stranger, it’d be downright mortifying for Zeb to barge in and expose his dirty intention. On the other hand, if he’d followed that fulcrum agent and is using the room as a guise while sending information about it to the Empire…His stomach clenches painfully and he suddenly thinks he understands why he’s feeling so strangely betrayed. For months now, he’d secretly hoped that he’d gotten through to Kallus, hoped that he had changed and would no longer be his enemy. Hoped they’d be able to explore this new, odd relationship they’d formed and get to know one another as allies instead.

Pushing his feelings down, he takes a steadying breath in, conjuring up as much resolve as possible. No matter what, the rebellion needs to know if the new fulcrum agent had been caught or not. He steps forward, the door’s sensor picking up his massive frame and sliding open for him to enter. Stepping into the space, his green eyes look around the simply furnished room, a bed, nightstand, and a chair. Nothing on the walls, no windows, just the basic necessities for such a meeting place. But no Kallus.

His ears twitch, picking up the soft hum of running water and he quietly follows the sound to the fresher at the back. Without thinking, he pokes his head in the open doorway, his eyes widening at the sight before him. The blonde-haired head of the tall human rising above the glass door of a simple shower, his back to the fresher entrance.

Steam clouds the glass yet the silhouette of his muscular body remains very much visible, not leaving much for the imagination. Zeb’s heart rate instantly quickens, mouth running dry as his wide eyes pour wildly over the impressive and alluring frame before him. The perfectly toned back muscles languidly flex as he washes his hair, his attractive frame slimming down into a narrow waist before expanding once more into a full yet muscular behind, strong legs working as the human shifts his weight slightly.

Mind blank as if its power cord had been pulled, the massive lasat stands perfectly still, unable to tear his gaze from the beautiful sight before him. He’d never been thrown into such a state by a male before, always preferring women. He’d never even considered that a man could be as attractive as a female, nor that one could have such an effect on him. Within his jumpsuit, his stomach clenches with shock as he feels his sheath beginning to wet and open with desire. He curses his weakness as he continues watching Kallus wash himself, his movements unhurried and downright tantalizing. Each subtle shift in position giving Zeb a new angle to hungrily admire.

“I’m not interested in company. I’m only using the facilities.” The deep and languid voice of the agent fills the room, hitting the lasat like a bucket of cold water; efficiently snapping him to his senses. Dread and guilt rush to his chest at having been caught in the act of spying on another showering, especially because of who he was spying on! The words take a moment to register in his hot and reeling mind and it takes an awkward moment for him to form a reply. He pushes down the many emotions and forces himself to focus on the mission at hand, putting on a serious and combative air.

“What’r you doing here?” He asks, allowing a hint of threat to enter his brusque voice. Kallus freezes as he hears that familiar voice, the sound of the shower filling the tense silence. Slowly he turns just enough to look at Zeb, keeping the side of his body modestly facing the lasat. His expression is of unrestricted surprise for just a moment before schooling his features to seem relatively at ease. “Zeb.” He greets politely, a trace of uncertainty in his velvety voice.

“What’r you doing here?” He repeats more firmly, crossing his arms across his broad chest to appear more intimidating. To his credit, the human doesn’t shrink back despite being naked and unarmed with a fully grown, angry looking lasat blocking his only exit. Instead, his brows raise slightly in question. “I could ask you the same.” Kallus retorts, the usual spite absent in his tone, replaced with a strange softness almost like teasing. Under his fur, Zeb feels his cheeks warm with intense embarrassment as those golden eyes narrow slightly. He is teasing him…

Not once had he considered how it’d look for him to show up unannounced in this sort of place! By all accounts it appears as if he were looking for a mate! His heart drops to his stomach as Kallus’ gaze momentarily flicks downward, no doubt catching the subtle bulge between the lasat’s thighs, the telltale sign of unsheathing. Impossibly incriminating! Karabast!

He clears his throat, closing his eyes to avoid looking at the victorious half grin on the man’s face. “Passing on a mission. Saw you slinking ‘bout and followed.” He says gruffly, trying to hide the mortification he feels behind overly feigned distaste which the agent sees through anyway. “Mn. I see.” Kallus says contentedly, as if everything made sense to him now.

Annoyance rises in Zeb’s chest, his hot temper flaring dangerously. How did the man not only gain control of the conversation but almost effortlessly made him feel like the one who’s exposed while standing there naked?? Zeb was the one demanding answers and yet somehow had been bullied into giving answers instead!

“Why’r you here?” He demands, his deep voice lowering menacingly. A low growl rumbles in his throat for good measure. Kallus sighs in response, a defeated sort of sound that makes Zeb feel odd. “As I said, I’m here to use the facilities. My clothes were dirtied and I can’t return to my ship in such a derelict state without raising suspicion.” He unhurriedly responds without fully answering the question. Honestly, this man is maddeningly slippery!

“Why’r you in this city and how’d you get yerself ‘dirtied’?” He growls brusquely, adding a mocking note to the final word. Kallus remains quiet, keeping eye contact with the lasat as he considers how to sidestep the question. For a few long moments, the shower fills the silence. Zeb takes in an annoyed breath, about to press him further when the man finally says. “I was instructed here for a delivery. The designated area was…filthy.”

The vague answer irritates the lasat more than anything, feeling as if he’s being led around in circles after being humiliated. “Just answer the kriffin’ question!” He barks harshly, earning an almost inaudible gasp from the human. If it’d been anyone else, they’d have missed the sound but lasat senses are far more sensitive than most. He also catches the brief flicker of fear in those golden eyes. It makes Zeb’s glare falter, feeling strangely bad for scaring the man.

Kallus’ stomach twists with terror as his mind automatically recalls the lasat mercenary from years ago. The look Zeb is giving him almost identical to the one the mercenary had worn as his claws ripped through the vulnerable flesh of his stomach, leaving him to bleed out surrounded by the carnage that was left of his troop. He pushes the dreadful memory away, reminding himself how the lasat before him had saved his life just months ago. Zeb is honorable, he would never harm him in such a vicious way.

“I…I’m not supposed…” Kallus starts, trailing off in a very uncharacteristically defeated way in the face of the imposing lasat’s suddenly enraged expression. The blood in his veins run painfully cold, color draining from his face as the lasat glares at him, his upper lip twitching, revealing his long fangs. Zeb hadn’t glowered at him like that in months, like he wanted to rip him limb from limb. He’d had hoped he never again would look at him like that.

“Not supposed to say?” Zeb snarls irritably, his temper flaring uncontrollably as the hope he’d harbored that the man could change fades. The agent is still blindly following orders. He’ll never change, no matter how much Zeb wants him to. What happened on the ice moon wasn’t real. They hadn’t formed an understanding, a fragile kinship that could be nurtured into friendship one day. They’d only ever be enemies, trying to destroy one another while ignoring the obvious pull between them that could have become something more.

“No, Zeb it’s not like that! I…” He trails off, the slight trembling in his voice stalling the lasat from acting upon his anger. His golden eyes search the livid face before him, a desperate pleading in them that confuses Zeb. It’s as if they’re trying to express something urgent to him, something that can’t be voiced. His gaze narrows with curiosity, one ear rising slightly, moving of its own accord. It’s clear the massive lasat is willing to hear him out. It’s also clear that the human might meet a swift end if his words are found to be distasteful. His keen mind races as his heart pounds rapidly in his chest.

For a moment, Kallus considers lying; considers telling him that he had in fact been there to indulge and simply wanted to hide the evidence to save face before returning to base. But his heart clenches painfully at the thought of Zeb seeing him in that light. On the other hand, the togruta had been deadly serious about no contact and he has the suspicion that she will somehow find out. And yet he can’t help but want Zeb of all people to know, especially with the way he’s looking at him now. Like he’s a hopeless monster. It makes his heart clench so painfully that he has to lower his gaze. He sighs quietly as he makes his decision.

“The instructed coordinates are on the comm.” He says quietly, nodding toward the device on the sink. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest, his breath baited as the lasat cautiously reaches out for the comm, only taking his eyes off his opponent to glance at the small screen. The numbers are familiar and it takes a moment for him to realize why. That small dying hope flickers cautiously in his chest as he reaches for the comm on his belt to confirm the coordinates.

“You…Yer the…yer…yer Fulcrum?” Zeb stutters in disbelief, his mouth hanging slightly open, eyes darting to the human, searching his face for confirmation. Kallus’ expression is soft and vulnerable, completely devoid of the restrained mask he constantly wears. His golden eyes seem to almost shimmer with cautious hope as they lock with those green orbs before him. That peculiar pull between them growing stronger, like an invisible connection binding them. They stare at each other for a few long moments, neither knowing what to say.

Zeb’s eyes roam all over that handsome face as if trying to find an answer to an unspoken question. “I…didn’t like the answers I found.” Kallus offers simply, the succinct statement explaining volumes. “R…really? So, you…so you decided to…to join…us?” Zeb stammers boyishly, needing to hear it out loud for some reason. A small, cautious smile graces his ex-rival’s face as he nods once, looking both proud, deeply guilted, and nervous all at once. Stunned and delighted, Zeb huffs a victorious, breathy laugh, his grin widening even further.

For months he’d been nursing that tiny shred of hope while never truly letting himself believe it was possible and yet here he is! His chest fills with emotions as he fully processes it. “I knew you had it in ya!” Zeb says joyfully, earning a timid smile that makes his heart leap.

He nearly jumps toward the man to wrap him in a friendly hug like he does to Ezra and Sabine whenever he’s unbearably proud of them when it dawns on him that he’s still stark naked before him, that thin pane of glass the only thing separating them. The smile on his face dampens just a fraction as his cheeks warm with embarrassment. The realization hits Kallus as well, having forgotten his own vulnerably exposed state as well.

Zeb clears his throat, modestly averting his eyes as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I uh…I should let ya…you know uh…finish up.” He stammers sheepishly, his embarrassment unable to completely drown the intense happiness throbbing happily in his chest. “Yes. That would be appreciated.” Kallus agrees gently, his eyes lowering a fraction as his cheeks redden slightly. The look makes Zeb pause for a moment, never having seen the agent look like that.

“I’ll uh…I’ll be outside.” He states stiffly, nodding towards the bedroom before pressing the button closing the fresher. A long sigh of relief escapes him, the tightness in his broad chest releasing as he looks around the room, mind spinning happily. Agent Kallus. Agent Kriffing Kallus. The man who’d chased him and his family all over the galaxy trying to capture them, now a rebel. One of them!

He imagines the surprised yet cautious expression Hera will no doubt wear when he tells her. Sabine will stubbornly refuse to believe it, shake her head and cross her arms as she debates the possibility of the persisted agent defecting. A soft chuckle rumbles in his throat, as he envisions Ezra’s dumbfounded look, mouth falling open before grinning cheekily at the notion that he can pick on Kallus now that he’s one of them. Of course, Kanan will smile calmly, nod his approval even as he advises to remain cautious.

Best to leave out where they met though and even more so how he’d cornered the man in the shower to wiggle the intel from him. ‘Saw him slinking ‘bout and pressed him why he’s here, worried he’d known about fulcrum. He had the comm with the coordinates.’ Yeah, vague enough to negate the awkward details while still telling the truth.

Of course, he’d have to tell them all about the ice moon to convince them that the agent had changed. That will be painfully awkward to explain but he’d endure it. They’ll no doubt cross paths with Kallus again and he needs them to fully believe he’s on their side, so they don’t accidentally kill off their spy. Spy. The word makes his chest tighten once more, his stomach twisting slightly.

Kallus is an imperial spy now. How impossibly dangerous! If he’s caught in the belly of the beast, there’s only a slim chance the rebels will be able to extract him before he’s tortured, sent to some miserable jail, or worse; terminated. It’d shaken him to the bone when he’d heard of some of the cruel punishments that await those who defect from the Empire. The thought of Kallus enduring such torture makes the fur on his neck stand up, a low growl rumbling as his fangs bare and hands curl into tight fists.

Just then, the fresher door slides open and Kallus appears with a shadow of a smile lingering on his mouth. Zeb turns and catches the slightly sheepish expression on the man’s face, his golden eyes holding a cautious hope in them. Between the vulnerable, open expression and the civilian clothes he’s wearing, he looks like a completely different person than the one he’d faced so many times! ‘He is a different person’ resounds in Zeb’s mind firmly and he doesn’t question it. Probably not the wisest thing seeing that it could be a rouse, but his gut tells him it’s true.

“Kal, why don’t you come back with me? You don’t need to be a spy.” He offers, earning an endearingly befuddled look from the human. “Kal?” He repeats softly, deciding to touch on the more innocent topic. Zeb blinks a few times, registering what he’d done so naturally. “Oh…I uh…Yeah, it’s a nickname. You know…now that you’re one of us…figured Ye’ve earned it.” He stammers, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as the human smiles warmly at him. “If uh…ya don’ like it, I won’t ya know…call ya it.” He adds, hoping he hadn’t overstepped in his enthusiasm.

“No! No, I…I like it.” Kallus admits sheepishly, his cheeks turning slightly pink once more, pulling a soft grin from the massive lasat. “Ok. Good.” Zeb breathes, shifting his weight to the other foot as his eyes roam around the floor. After a few moments, it’s clear the human isn’t going to answer the original question but lasat never know when to quit. The urge to keep the man close and safe too pressing for Zeb to let it go that easily. He looks down into Kallus’ face, solidifying his resolve.

“Kal…why don’t ya just come back with me?” He asks again, feeling silly for how simple he makes it sound. Kallus sighs softly, a sad smile on his handsome face, eyes shimmering with sincere regret. “I wish I could...Zeb. But we both know that’s not an option.” He says slowly, his deep voice low and heavily burdened as if he carries the weight of the galaxy. Zeb’s eyes scan the floor as he quickly finds holes in all the arguments he comes up with.

It would be cowardly of Kallus to waste such an opportunity and role to ensure his own safety. And many in the rebellion would refuse to accept him into their ranks if he did. They’d see the cowardice and condemn him for that as well as his past sins. Not the Ghost crew, but others, especially those in the higher ranks. His loyalty wouldn’t be trusted because it hadn’t been earned.

There was no proof, no sacrifice, nothing to show that he’d changed other than his word which won’t hold much credibility to most. He’d probably be questioned for all he knows and placed in a cell of some kind, to be kept where the rebels could keep an eye on him. He wouldn’t be free. Wouldn’t be a rebel. Zeb’s ears lower with disappointment, wanting to keep the man close and protected. The clear sadness of the lasat pulls on Kallus’ heart but the overbearing guilt he harbors outweighs his desire to remain with him. He doesn’t deserve that comfort. Not after all he’s done. How many lives he’s destroyed.

“I’ve done too many awful things, Zeb. I’ll never be able to make up for it all but I need to do what I can to help undo some of what I’ve helped build. The most good I can do for the rebellion is to feed it vital information to help you win this war.” He states seriously, keeping his voice low as if worried he’ll be overheard. The truth of his words weigh heavily on them both, that pull toward one another aching with the distance that will soon keep them apart.

“Us.” Zeb corrects softly. “What?” Kallus asks, brows furrowing with confusion. “To help us win the war. You’re one of us Kal. Even if most don’ know it yet.” The words and sincere expression on the face before him melt the man’s heart, a peculiar warmth spreading through his chest. ‘It’s enough that you know’ plays in his mind but he keeps the words to himself, not trusting his voice not to tremble with emotion.

Zeb’s heart clenches with sadness while an odd sense of pride rises. Kallus is no coward. He’ll do what others would be terrified of doing, do the most dangerous thing one could and risk everything in an attempt to do what’s right. He knows what he’s doing, what he’s sacrificing, and the dangers associated with it. And he’s still doing it. Doing it alone.

They share a look filled with resolve, sadness, and longing. The lasat places a heavy hand on the human’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Yer really an honorable man, Kal. I’m proud of you.” Zeb says seriously, the warmth in those emerald eyes melting the human’s heart. He hasn’t heard such sincere compliments since he was a child. “Zeb…” He begins, unable to form a coherent response as his heart flutters with emotions. “Don’ have’ta say anything. Ye are and I am.” He says in a friendly way, smiling broadly at the man.

Kallus feels an odd yet overwhelming warmth expanding in his chest, expressing itself in an open and thankful smile as he looks at the lasat eagerly grinning back. After a few moments, he tears his gaze away, bringing himself back to the present as the comm on Zeb’s belt begins beeping quietly. “You ought to retrieve that intel, you know. Your family is waiting.” He states in a friendly, mildly teasing way as he nods toward the comm. Zeb’s ears twitch upward, his expression comical as he suddenly remembers he’s still on a mission. His large hand slides from Kallus’ shoulder before they cross the room to step out into the night.

“Be warned, the rendezvous point is quite filthy.” Kallus says flatly, a cheeky grin on his face despite his serious tone. Zeb blinks a few times, slowly recognizing his dry attempt at humor and rewarding the agent with a short snort of a laugh. “Thanks for the heads up.” He says, feeling it the safest response that won’t recall how he’d barged in on the man earlier. They stand in the entrance, neither knowing the proper way to end such an encounter. After a few moments, the human softly clears his throat before turning to his companion.

“Well, I have to leave.” Kallus says shortly, sounding uncharacteristically lost. Zeb snorts quietly at the awkwardly abrupt, straightforward statement. “Yeah, me too. Ah…take care a yerself, ok?” He drawls, the sincere concern in his eyes making it even harder for the human to pull himself away.

“You as well.” Kallus responds politely, lingering a moment longer than necessary, unwilling to leave the warmth of Zeb’s camaraderie for the sterile isolation of the Empire. Two women pass by, eyeing them and giggling. Zeb’s cheeks burn under his fur as he realizes what this must look like. A cringy farewell in the doorway of this type of rented room. The thought must have crossed Kallus’ mind as well as he begins shifting his weight slightly.

“Goodbye…Zeb.” He says a bit softer than he’d intended, taking a begrudging step away from the lasat and instantly feeling far colder. “Hey, I’ll see you around, Kal.” Zeb says in a friendly tone, his genuine smile and friendly wink bringing a grin to Kallus’ face. He nods once before forcing his body to move down the street, refusing the odd desire to look over his shoulder.

Ever since he’d watched the Ghost lift off from that ice moon, he’d longed painfully for the lasat’s warmth, his presence, his friendship. It confused him greatly in the days that followed and he’d ruled it simply as a comfort that the Empire doesn’t allow. Nagging at him, it’d urged him to ask those questions and helped him endure the crushing pain and guilt as he slowly accepted that the last 20 years, he’d served a monster rather than the noble cause he’d assured himself he was a part of. After making his decision, he’d never felt so utterly alone.

An enemy living inside the Empire, alongside those he’d allied with for years who were ignorant of his betrayal. An enemy in the minds of the rebels whom he’s risking his life to help. Not a soul alive he can openly confide in, nor one that’d care for his wellbeing. The tumultuous flow of terror, guilt, shame, and longing inside him remained there, unheard by the rest of the galaxy. Suffering in silence. He’d endured it alone and assured himself that he deserved no less for all he’d done.

His secret known to him and the mysterious togruta. But now…Now Zeb knows. He knows what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. Someone who is kind to him, even offering him nicknames and warm smiles, knows. Someone cares about him. He’s not utterly alone anymore. That simple fact gives him new resolve to keep going, keeping pushing forward and doing what scares the kriffing life from him. Zeb knows and cares and that’s all he needs. *****

Chapter 4: Unexpected encounter

Chapter Text

As he steps into the bar, ducking slightly to account for his considerable height, the continuous low chatter doesn’t ebb in the least, assuring him he’ll be allotted the privacy he’s after. A long sigh escapes as he settles himself on a seat at the bar, the wood creaking beneath his substantial weight. The place is small, dimly lit, and sparsely inhabited, offering him the solitude and privacy he so desperately craves. He orders his usual order of whisky, downing it quicker than intended but with the given circ*mstances, he allows himself some grace. The glass is refilled once again, this time to be nursed more slowly as his pained mind unfolds, still struggling to process all that’s happened in such rapid succession.

Kanan is blind. His best friend damaged so greatly that he’s closed himself off from his family to be alone with his grief. He doesn’t blame him. Knows he’d probably do the same exact thing if it were him. Suffer in silence to spare his loved ones from it. His large purple hand tightens around the glass, his teeth baring slightly as he grimaces against the heartache. He hates it! Hates when someone he loves is in pain and he’s powerless to help! If he could take his place, ashla knows he’d do it in a moment! Another heavy sigh leaves him as his massive shoulders sag with defeat.

Despite Kanan’s efforts to grieve alone, everyone is hurting. Hera and Sabine have both been quiet, tiptoeing around the Ghost while pretending to go on as normal. But it’s not the same and going on like that only highlights how everything’s changed. They know that but there’s nothing they can do. All their gentle compassion can’t fix what’s broken. He’d been there every time Kanan rejected their sympathy, he’d held them, comforted them, assured them that it’s not them he’s upset with. Kanan has to work through this alone. Pity will only make it worse. Make him feel weaker, more vulnerable.

Then there’s Ezra…karabast, it’s like a different kid returned from the blasted place! His smile is gone, replaced by a wicked determination and seriousness that makes his heart break. He knows the kid blames himself greatly and is driving himself into the ground to counter the guilt with successful missions. He’s reeling without his master who can’t be there for him. When he’d tried to approach the kid about it, his anger was so fierce it took the breath right from him. He’s avoided it ever since, never wanting to see the kindhearted boy look at him like that again.

He takes a long swig from his drink to dull the aching tightness in his chest. Even his room feels strange now. Not so much a home anymore, nor even a place for rest. It’s dark and foreboding, as if there’s evil lingering within. Probably some weird force thing related to that sith guy Ezra got too close to. But with how fragile things are at the moment, he doesn’t mention it to either jedi. He can bear a few nights filled with nightmares and terrors, especially if it spares Ezra from feeling even more guilt. Lack of sleep isn’t the worst thing to endure.

He grits his fangs, grimacing against the fresh wave of pain threatening to overtake him as his mind turns once again to the fallen jedi. The wise and serene togruta who was so compassionate and understanding with every being she encountered, including him. She’d become a good friend and a reliable ally to his family, always putting their hearts at ease with her mere presence. And now she’s gone, never to return.

Yet again, he pushes the truth down and away, promising to deal with it later and throws back the remaining liquid instead. The bartender refills his glass, nodding to the hooded being that slips into the chair beside Zeb who motions quietly for a glass of the same. A low growl rumbles in Zeb’s throat at the sudden intrusion. He’d come here specifically to be alone with his dismal thoughts. Either not getting the hint or ignoring it, the figure daringly leans toward the disgruntled lasat.

“Hello Zeb.” Kallus greets, his voice low with a note of uncertainty. His large green eyes widen as he recognizes the man beside him, the dark clouds within his head dissipating immediately. “Kal! What’re…what’re you doin’ here?” He asks in a hushed tone, the knot in his chest softening greatly at the sight of the human beneath that hood. Kallus’ golden eyes meet Zeb’s, an odd edge in them like a pleading or insecurity that is very uncharacteristic to the man.

“I came to ask. Has…has something happened?” He asks hesitantly, his expression schooled but not nearly enough to completely disguise how intensely nervous he is. Zeb sighs, his ears drooping sadly. Unable to sit still with such apprehension, the man presses on. “I was supposed to meet Fulcrum three days ago for an update, but she didn’t show. She hasn’t answered any of my transmissions either. I just…was getting worried that perhaps…” He trails off to avoid voicing his true worry, the one that’d kept him tossing and turning for nights on end.

“It’s not you, Kal.” Zeb assures, realizing that he probably thinks they’d decided not to trust him after all. He places his large hand over Kallus’s smaller one and squeezes gently, a comforting gesture that earns a blankly confused look that he misses. The contact is brief as the lasat removes his hand and takes a drink before explaining darkly “she’s gone.” The words hang between them, lingering heavily, unpleasantly and ushering in a world of uncertainty and dread.

“Kanan was blinded in the battle. They defeated the inquisitors but Ahsoka couldn’t beat the Sith Lord.” He explains, his gruff voice lowered even further. “She’s…he was…I’m sorry Zeb.” Kallus says breathily, the sincere expression on his handsome face making Zeb’s aching heart warm slightly. “Nothin’ anyone coulda done. ‘Cept, can’t get that through to the kid. Blames himself. He’s in a bad way, so are the girls. I had to get out for a bit, get away.” He admits, feeling guilty for it.

“It’s understandable.” Kallus replies curtly, awkwardly. His posture a bit more rigid than it’d been when he’d first sat down, piquing the lasat’s interest. His large brow raises at the human who looks like a lothcat caught in headlights. “My condolences to you and your family.” He adds, his eyebrows furrowing momentarily as if he were internally kicking himself. “Thanks Kal.” Zeb says easily, the ghost of an amused smile on his face as he takes another sip. The human sighs quietly, looking down at his own drink.

“I’m sorry, I’m not good at consolation. It’s been a long while since I’ve been permitted open communication or to freely socialize.” He sounds like a droid and it both amuses and saddens him. He huffs a short laugh, before side eyeing his companion. “Open communication?” Zeb repeats, lightly teasing the human whose cheeks grow slightly pink despite the halfhearted scowl twisting his features. A large grin spreads across Zeb’s face as he chuckles, feeling playful for the first time in weeks. Kallus merely rolls his eyes, shaking his head a bit before sipping on his drink, waiting for the lasat to settle.

“The Empire firmly discourages forming friendships or alliances both within rank and out. Attachments can be turned into weakness and used against you and by extension the Empire. Especially in ISB, everyone’s to be viewed as a possible threat, even coworkers. Genuine, open expression with the wrong person can easily get one sentenced for treason. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to speak freely.” He explains, his velvety voice lowered even further. Zeb’s smile falters a fraction as he considers the words, finding it lonely simply to hear.

“How long?” He asks curiously, bracing for the answer. “20 standard years.” Kallus admits, dipping his head to take a sip from his drink to avoid the lasat’s stunned gaze. “You’ve not been able to socialize for 20 years?” Zeb asks, unable to keep the shock he feels from his voice. Kallus clears his throat and shifts in his seat, looking even more uncomfortable than when he was trying to console him. “Yes, that is correct.” He says stiffly.

“How old are ya now?” He presses in a warm tone, genuinely curious about the human. “32.” Kallus answers shortly, looking everywhere but those giant green eyes so full of interest and concern. Zeb searches his profile freely as the human averts his gaze, noticing for the first time just how golden his eyes are; perfectly complimented by the color of his skin and fur. When not wearing a scowl or frown, he’s actually quite pleasant to look at. It’s a few moments before he catches Kallus side eyeing him cautiously, a strange look on his handsome face.

With a start, Zeb tears his eyes from the human, feeling his cheeks warm slightly and chalks it up to having drank too much too fast. Kallus lightly clears his throat before starting again. “Well, I have a series of data sticks that need to get into the right hands. I believe the intel will be of much use.” He says in a stiff and businesslike manner, his hand discreetly reaching out under the bar. When the lasat doesn’t respond in sync, he taps the back of his hand against Zeb’s thigh, urging him to take the data sticks from it.

To his surprise, Zeb merely engulfs his hand with his own, sighing contentedly before taking another sip, that massive hand remaining over the human’s. Wide, golden eyes stare straight forward at the bottles lining the wall, mind drawing a complete blank as to what in the world the lasat is doing. After a few moments, Zeb notices how frozen and rigid the man is, a look of mild alarm on his face. “Wha’s wrong?” He asks gruffly, his ears co*cking slightly as Kallus turns to him with a confounded expression.

“Zeb. Take the cylinders from my hand.” He hisses quietly, looking around the room to make sure no one’s looking, which they aren’t. “Oh! I thought you…never mind.” He trails off, cheeks burning under his fur. He removes his hand from its place over the human’s and carefully takes the small cylinders from within. “What did you think I meant?” Kallus asks, his pitch a bit higher than normal as he takes his hand back. The human appears flustered but not angry or disgusted, much to Zeb’s relief.

His ears flatten down a bit, feeling slightly foolish. Even after so many years of living with humans, he still forgets how odd they can be about physical touch. “Thought you wanted to…you know…hold hands.” Zeb answers honestly, rubbing the back of his neck after securing the cylinders in a pouch on his belt. Kallus’ thin mouth falls open slightly, his golden eyes narrowing with disbelief. “You’re messing with me?” He half states, half questions, scouring the lasat’s face for clarity.

“No.” Zeb argues simply, draining the rest of his drink and pushing down the embarrassment he feels. Those golden eyes narrow in disbelief, unblinking as they bare into Zeb making him feel unsettled as if he’s peering into his mind. Looking down to his drink, he sighs before stealing a sideways glance at the human, quickly turning back to his glass instead.

“Lasat are far more open to physical contact than humans. Somethin’ I keep forgettin’ ‘bout even after being ‘round your kind for so long.” He explains shortly, acting as if it isn’t a big deal and adding a shrug for good measure. “So, you…you thought it was normal to just…hold hands. For me to initiate that sort of…thing.” He asks, unabashedly stunned by the information. “Well yeah. It’s natural to me.” Zeb answers a bit defensively. “Huh.” The human breaths, taking a long look at the lasat before draining his drink.

With the data sticks transferred and his questions about Ahsoka answered, there isn’t really any reason to linger but he doesn’t move from his chair beside Zeb, unwilling to leave his company. “You, ah…you wanna have another with me?” Zeb asks awkwardly, for some reason really wanting the human to stay with him. Their eyes meet, nervous caution reflecting between them which makes them both breathe a soft laugh. “I’d like that.” Kallus admits quietly, his voice as gentle as his expression.
The bar tender refills their glasses which they lightly tap together before taking a sip, neither knowing what to say. “So…safe to say you all hijacked that transport?” Kallus asks, a small boyish smile playing at his mouth above the rim of his glass, the mischievous glint in his golden eyes making Zeb’s heart skip oddly. “Ha, yeah that was actually Chop. He stole a droid leg and stowed away on the transport to avoid gettin’ caught by imps.” Zeb explains flatly, shaking his head at the brash metal bucket.

“Wait…what? Nothing you said just now made any sense.” Kallus states languidly, a slight laugh in his tone as his brows raise, a soft playful smile on his lips. Zeb can’t help but chuckle at his open and amused look, even on Bahryn he’d not been so expressive and…relaxed? It makes the ever-present tightness in his chest ease, a warmth spreading in his belly that he chalks up to the drink.

“Chopper’s Hera’s droid. You know, the foul-mouthed orange murder-bot.” He explains plainly, a boyish ease in his demeanor as he describes the irritating astromech. The statement earns a quiet breathy laugh from his companion, which makes his ears twitch with delight. “Yes, I’m well acquainted with that…murder-bot.” Kallus assures, his smile growing a fraction, eyes shimmering with laughter as he takes another sip. The sight makes Zeb’s heart flutter oddly, his own grin widening in return. He takes another sip as well, easing into the unhurried conversation.

“We landed on a planet for a mission an as soon as the ramp lowered, he spotted a droid leg in better condition than his. He wanted us to buy it but we didn’ have the time or the credits.” Zeb continues, the interest on the human’s attractive face making him want to take his time telling the story. He rather enjoys having Kallus look at him like that. He slowly takes another sip, smiling internally as his companion follows suit.

“He argued ‘bout it ta Hera, wantin’ to go shoppin’ insteada his job. Got real angry when I called him ‘Shopper.” Zeb says, hoping the human will appreciate his humor more than his family had. Kallus’ eyes narrow for a moment before widening, the small smile on his face growing wide as he gets the pun. Perhaps it’s due to the drink but the human laughs freely and deeply; the sound filled with joy. Zeb’s ears stand high with delight, chuckling as his companion holds his own stomach, clearly enjoying the joke. “That’s…that’s funny! Zeb, hahaha!” He breathes, slowly regaining control as his laughter fades.

“Another round?” The bartender asks, holding the whisky bottle up to entice the men. Zeb looks to Kallus’ whose cheeks have become even more pink from laughter. “Please.” The human says kindly, turning slightly in his seat to better face his companion as the glasses are filled. Zeb mirrors his action, the chair beneath him creaking as he adjusts. The position feels more intimate, as if they’re now closed off from the other inhabitants of the bar. Secluded within their own private conversation.

They touch their glasses together once more before drinking, the liquid warming their stomachs. “So, how is it that Shopper boarded a transport?” Kallus asks, egging his companion to continue the story.
“Well, he was ordered to watch the ship but the moment we were outta sight, he went off to steal the leg!” Zeb explains enthusiastically, adding extra emphasis on ‘steal’ as if it were an unspeakable crime. “Wonder where he learned that behavior.” Kallus says with playful sarcasm and this time Zeb finds his eyeroll rather endearing. It pulls a smile from him that he works into a light sneer.

“Stealing from imps is different.” He argues good-naturedly, meeting his companions’ lightly challenging gaze. “That is true. However, no less infuriating to the one’s being slighted.” Kallus adds, remembering back to how irritating it was each time the rebels escaped with rations meant for his star destroyer. Shaking his head to rid it of that unpleasant line of thought, he asks. “So, he stole an ambulatory strut. Why didn’t he return to your ship?”

Zeb’s ears twitch, the movement making Kallus’ chest feel funny, his smile broadening. The lasat shrugs. “He wasn’t back in time. We had to leave without him, so he ran from the imps an hid in a cargo bay. Turned out it was an imperial transport!” Zeb laughs, shaking his head at the infuriating droid. “That’s quite a mistake.” Kallus notes with surprise, shocked at his companion’s amusem*nt over his comrade’s self-inflicted predicament.

“Yeah, even more surprisin’ was he made a droid friend aboard. Ended up takin’ over the ship together. Gotta give him that one, did a good job. Jus’ don’t ever tell him I said that.” Zeb adds in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer to the human and bumping his massive arm against his. The brief, friendly contact surprises Kallus, leaving him feeling slightly flustered yet longing for him to do it again.

“Rest assured, that stays between us.” He affirms, trying to sound as casual as his rigid tone allows, then takes another sip. “Good man.” Zeb says in a friendly way, winking while grinning, his large hand patting his shoulder before taking a sip as well. Kallus wills his muscles to relax, each touch making him tense upon instinct despite how much he enjoys the friendly contact, Zeb’s hands warm and comforting.

“So, Chopper made a droid friend? How’s that going?” Kallus asks, hoping to draw out the story to avoid finding a new topic. If he can’t come up with something interesting, will the lasat end the conversation and leave? “He’s just as insufferable as Chop! The two go at it like an old married couple!” Zeb states firmly, a laugh in his tone as he shakes his head. “Ya wanna avoid the two of ‘em when they’re together. Else, they’ll drive ya up the wall!” He advises, as if the human’s coming back with him.

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.” Kallus answers quietly, his eyes lowering sadly despite the soft smile on his face. “Meant to keep it in mind when ya are able to, you know…come back with me.” Zeb back tracks, noticing how his previous words caused a slight dampening of his companion’s mood. On instinct, he wraps his large arm around the other’s shoulders, pulling him in a bit closer and giving him a squeeze meant to be comforting. He feels the human immediately tense beneath him, his ears flattening against his head as he thinks he’s overstepped.

“Sorry.” He says hurriedly, releasing the man and looking to his drink instead. “Like I said, lasat are naturally very physical. It’s how we express affection, ya know?” He adds, taking a long sip from his drink. Kallus looks at him with an oddly teasing expression. “Your affections huh? Does that mean you like me?” Zeb blushes under his fur, rolling his eyes. “Suppose you’re not all that insufferable.” He teases, smirking playfully at the human.

“I’ve never had such kind words before!” He teases, feigning surprise and gratitude as if it were a truly touching compliment. “Shove off!” Zeb growls, half-heartedly punching his arm as his grin widens. To his delight, a soft laugh escapes the man at his side, the fleeting sound making his heart warm in an odd way.

“Much to my surprise, you’ve grown on me as well.” Kallus says sincerely, sounding vulnerable and sheepish as if worried he’d overshared. “I’ve got that effect on people. Eventually, ya grow to love me.” Zeb says confidently, bumping his shoulder against the human’s, grinning wide. A comfortable silence falls between them, both sipping their drinks and enjoying the other’s company.

The comm on his belt chimes, the sound of his family calling him back home. He looks at Kallus with a sorrowful expression, truly wishing they could have more time together. “Your family needs you. I’ll be in touch soon with more intel.” He assures, masking his own disappointment behind a schooled expression. “It was good seeing you, Kal and uh…thanks.” He adds, unable to put into words how grateful he is for the company, even if it were short lived.

“Pleasure’s all mine.” Kallus says, the sincere warmth in his tone making Zeb’s stomach flutter in a strange way. He smiles broadly before crossing the bar, taking one last look over his shoulder to where Kallus had been sitting, finding the chair abandoned, not a trace of the agent in the room except the credits left on the bar. His brow lifts in surprise, wondering in awe what other skills the human may have.

Chapter 5: A Reckless Plan

Chapter Text

“Hera, let’s scrap the stinkin’ plan. It don’ sit right with me. Can’t even trust the intel is right.” Zeb’s brusque voice calls out loud enough to be heard through the metal door of Hera’s room. Muscular arms cross over his broad chest, tightening with dread. “Zeb, it’s fine! Our intel is good, my contact hasn’t been wrong yet.” She assures, voice snippet and firm, leaving no room for argument. The image of that old, salty trandoshan woman (swindler’s more like it) crosses his mind making his fangs bare. He’d never trusted her and hates when she’s involved with missions.

“Doesn’t mean she’s not wrong now.” He grumbles defiantly, scowling at the floor. “Look, Hera, I don’ want you going inta that kinda place unarmed an alone. It’s too risky! ‘Specially cause we can’t let the kids in there and I’m all the back up ye get. It’s not worth it.” The gruff voice holds a pleading note to it, desperately trying to keep his friend from going through with this brash plan.

He’d noticed that Hera had been making unnecessarily risky decisions and taking more chances than usual since Kanan was injured. Almost as if his blindness made it harder for her to see reason. Of course, Zeb couldn’t directly question her decision-making capabilities without causing a riot within the already aggrieved and reeling family. Instead, he has to work as crisis management until the phase passes.

“You’re all the backup I need Zeb. We’ve done this kind of mission before; it’ll be just like those times. I meet the imp, drug him once we’re alone, and you help me drag him to the drop off point where our contact can press him for intel. We get the credits the imp paid upfront and our contact interrogates him for us. Easy.” She says confidently, her door sliding open as she exits, looking stunning in a form-fitting dress that’s tastefully revealing. The shimmer of makeup on her cheek bones reflecting the light, complimenting the dark liner above her lashes. A perfect disguise for the high-end prostitute she’s pretending to be.

Zeb’s gut twists in defiance, screaming at him that this will not end well. His brow furrows deeply with concern and frustration, a deep growl rumbling in his throat that goes ignored by the stubborn twi’lek. For the millionth time today, he wishes Kanan was here. He’s the only one who can talk sense into her when she gets like this. “Zeb, stop worrying. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.” She pats his arms lightly before moving down the corridor to the cargo bay where the kids are waiting.

The growl deepens as he begrudgingly chases after her, unrelenting in his stance on the mission. “I trust you Hera but I also trust my gut and it’s tellin’ me this isn’t good! Please don’t go through with this! I can’t lose anyone else.” He adds, trying his luck with the sympathy angle but receiving an irritated side eye instead. “You’re not losing anyone Zeb. We need intel and this is how we’re going to get it.” She states firmly, all business as she climbs down the ladder.

“It’s not worth it.” He argues roughly, his ears flatten as he sees her nearly furious expression. ‘Should’a chosen a better way a sayin’ that’ crosses his mind miserably. “Not worth it…Zeb, there are captives being held by the Empire that need our help! Innocent people whose lives are in danger! It’s worth me taking a small risk to find out where they are so we can help them.” Hera all but shouts, the conviction in her tone and expression assuring Zeb that he’s not winning this fight.

Ezra and Sabine share a troubled look, both biting their tongues in the face of Hera’s anger. It’s not often she gets riled up, even more infrequently that it’s directed at her beloved family. They look pityingly at the giant lasat, whose ears lower even further in defeat. “Hera, I’m just lookin’ out for ya…tryin’ to anyway.” He says sadly, the sincere worry in his large eyes making her anger rapidly dissipate, guilt taking its place.

“I know you are Zeb. And I appreciate it. But this is a risk that I am willing to take and I need to know that you’re with me.” She says gently, placing both slender hands on his massive arms as she looks pleadingly up at him. “You know I’ll always have yer back. But if I see any sign a this thing goin’ sideways, I’m pullin’ you out!” He warns firmly, the stern look making her smile, fondness flooding her chest. “I’d expect nothing less.” She says affectionately, squeezing his arms lightly before turning to the kids.

“You two are on lookout duty. Stay close to the building but do NOT for any reason enter! Do you understand me?” Hera commands seriously, the authoritative demeanor clashing comically with her outfit. “Hera you can just call it a brothel, we know what it is.” Sabine teases, rolling her eyes with her usual teenage sass.

“It’s not they’d even let minors in anyway.” Ezra adds, always ready with some snarky reply. The twi’lek’s expression darkens, her hands coming to her hips as she stares the kids down. Behind her, Zeb crosses his muscular arms over his chest, the displeased look twisting his features enough to make a fully grown wookie cower.

“Do you understand me?” She repeats more firmly, the warning in her tone highly effective. “Yes Hera, we understand.” They comply in unison, both resenting the fact that they can’t readily help their beloved space mom in case things actually do go sideways. “Good. Let’s move out. Chop, keep an eye on the kids.” She adds firmly, before lowering the ramp and stepping into the brisk night air.
She hugs herself against a shiver, the scant dress doing little to shield her from the cold. Seeing his friend’s trouble, Zeb rests his large furry arm over her shoulders and pulls her to his side to help keep her warm. “Mn, thank you Zeb.” She says, closing her eyes a moment to savor the warmth and comfort of her friend. He merely nods in response, wanting to keep her close, keep her safe. The knot in his stomach twists uncomfortably, knowing that soon she’ll be all alone in a very dangerous situation.

“It’ll be ok Zeb. Trust me.” Hera’s soft voice makes his ears twitch, his large green eyes looking down to meet hers. “I hope so.” He says quietly, the genuine concern and apprehension in those eyes making her doubt the mission for just a moment before her resolve doubles down. She squeezes the large hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“This is it.” She says seriously as they stop before a tall dimly lit building. The sound of music and languid laughter within seeping out into the surrounding night. She takes a deep breath in as he reluctantly releases her, allowing her to enter first before sneaking in himself. He schools his expression to hide his intense distaste, finding a spot at the bar where he can keep an eye on his friend and also easily slip into the hallway leading to the back rooms to assist her when called.

He watches as Hera approaches the leading mistress, slipping easily back into her native accent as she explains that her company has been ordered for an Imperial client. The mistress looks her up and down, grinning suggestively before pouting that she isn’t her handler, lamenting the credits she could make her. Hera expertly navigates the sickening conversation, following the woman to the back rooms where her ‘client’ is waiting.

Dread pooling in his stomach, Zeb orders a whisky to avoid suspicion and waits impatiently for the comm on his belt to vibrate, his signal from Hera. *****

“You’re far more beautiful than I’d expected, my dear. Truly worth every credit.” The rather plain looking, forgettable man says smoothly, circling the twi’lek to allow his eyes roam unashamedly over her body. “I’m sure you look even more stunning without the dress.” He whispers, his breath hot on her neck. “Wouldn’t you like to find out.” She states softly in response. It’s not suggestive nor is it a question, merely a gently spoken truth that he takes however he wants.

He stops behind her, taking a step closer as his hands rest upon her narrow waist. “I would very much like that.” The sickly-sweet smell of brandy lingers on his breath, making her nose crinkle with distaste. Having had enough of his cringe-worthy and futile attempts to entice a prepaid prostitute, she turns to face him, eyes heavily lidded as she looks up at him. His face, drunk with desire holds an expression that’s so dopey she can hardly keep herself from laughing.

Her slender hands reach behind her as if to unzip her dress, instead fishing out the small syringe she’s armed with. “Well then, let’s begin what we can here to do.” She purrs, eyebrow co*cking up slightly as he leans down to kiss her. Before their lips meet, she swings her arm up to jab the syringe into his neck. The sudden movement makes the man jump back and she curses under her breath, she hadn’t expected the fool’s reflexes to be so quick!

“What’s this?! You’re…you’re trying to drug me?” He accuses breathily, eyes so wide with shock it would be comical if she wasn’t in such a dire situation. “Not as dumb as I thought.” She says challengingly, dropping the accent which further stuns the man. She pounces forward, trying to stab the man once more but he’s too quick. ‘Karabast! This is not going as planned!’ She curses, gritting her teeth as she desperately tries to stick the man, loathing the idea of letting Zeb know he was right after all.

The man snatches her wrist as she swings at him, his hand so tight around her wrist that she yelps with pain. He easily pries the syringe from her trapped hand, glaring at the writhing woman in his grasp. “You blasted little whor*! You’ve brought this on yourself!” He seethes, livid with the turn his night had taken. He pulls her to him, pinning her against his chest as he jabs the needle into her arm instead. “Let’s see how you like it.” He says mockingly, voice dark with resentment.

Her body instantly goes limp, her mind fuzzy as she loses all motor control. She feels him lower her to the bed, heart pounding in her chest with terror at what the man will do to her. A weak moan escapes her throat, tears welling in her eyes as she prays that Zeb will lose patience and barrel into the room to save her. ‘He was right. I shouldn’t have done this.’ Resounds in her clouded thoughts, her mind spinning just like her vision.

She hears the man speak but she can’t make out the words. There’s another voice, not the deep gruff voice of her friend though. This is bad. Suddenly, she’s being lifted and dragged, her head lolling side to side as they move. She forces her eyes open, realizing with horror that they’re not leading her to the door she’d entered but a secret back exit! Zeb won’t see her being taken! Won’t be able to help her! *****

Zeb checks the time again, his claws tapping impatiently on the bar top. His frustration making the prostitutes nearest him feel uneasy, too nervous to approach the intimidating client. Finally, his gut forces him to stand, marching to the back hallway without even trying to be discreet and avoid suspicion. The mistress opens her mouth to object but doesn’t actually try to stop the livid looking behemoth steaming toward her Imperial client’s room.

With a mighty kick, he breaks the door open, his large eyes widening with terror as they find the room empty. His breath becomes rapid, mind reeling with overwhelming dread. ‘She’s gone somewhere, she can’t’ve disappeared!’ He tells himself, forcing his frozen muscles to move and search the room for any trap doors or secret passages. Finally, he spots the well concealed door in a dark corner of the room and barrels through it.

The knot in his stomach clenches as he steps out into the back alley behind the brothel, his keen eyes scouring both ends for any signs of Hera. “Spectre 5, missions gone sideways. Spectre 2 is missing. Took her through a back door behind the buildin’. Do you see any signs of movement?” He asks urgently, choosing the path in the direction of the space ports and running full speed. “She’s missing?!” He hears Ezra’s panicked voice repeat.

“Focus, Spectre 6. Do you see any movement?” He presses seriously, trying to keep calm so that the kids won’t panic. “Mwap mwap mwap mwap!!!” Chopper beeps rapidly in binary, his tone sounding frantic with anger. “What’d he say?!” Zeb demands, still running as fast as his long legs can carry him. “You don’t want to know.” Sabine’s strained voice advises, ignoring the droid and scanning the area.

“Split up, Spectre 5 take the west side, Spectre 6 take the east, Spectre 3 head south, I’m headin’ north. Stay high, scan for any suspicious movement.” He commands, his age and rank making him the temporary leader of their dwindling crew. The kids agree without argument, needing a calm and steady leader to guide them. ‘Karabast! Hera, I told you this wasn’t a good idea!’ He growls, repressing his anxiety and forcing himself to focus. *****

The room spins slightly before her, her vision swimming but beginning to balance out. At least she’s able to understand what’s happening now. And if she can understand what’s happening then she can figure out a way to escape. She squeezes her eyes shut, as if trying to reset her vision before forcing them open to scan the room. To her surprise, it actually works and she finds herself sitting in a chair in a very sterile looking office. The lights are dimmed enough to suggest the late hour.

She tries to move, finding her arms bound behind the back of the chair. A soft moan escapes her, her muscles feeling heavy and limp as she tries to move. “Awake, I see. You’re in for it now. ISB is going to have your head for attacking an Imperial agent!” The man snaps harshly, the victorious tone making her growl internally. ISB…the guy actually dragged her to ISB?! Her stomach twists with dread. This isn’t good!! The man steps forward in front of her, leaning casually on the edge of the desk and crossing his arms as if he owns the place.

“I wonder what he’ll do with you. I’ve heard ISB agents take great pleasure in torture. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to watch you writhe while the IT-O Interrogation Unit electrocutes you.” He muses menacingly, the twisted smile on his face dark and foreboding. He leans forward, grabbing her chin to force her to look at him. She glares at him weakly in response. “Just you wait my dear. You’ll pay handsomely for your treason.” He threatens calmly, eyes narrowing with distaste. A flicker of fear passes over his face as the office door slides open, immediately standing up straight in attention.

The man respectfully nods and salutes as the agent slowly crosses the room to settle behind the desk. As the man turns and comes to her side, Hera forces her gaze foward to glare at the ISB agent in front of her, stomach dropping as she sees the familiar form of Agent Kallus. His eyes widen a mere fraction as he spots her, but his expression remains exactly the same; schooled, cold, and rigid. Her heart sinks. Of all the agents she could have fallen into the hands of, it had to be the one who knew exactly who she is! Surely, it’s all over now.

“Agent Kallus, my deepest apologies for disturbing you at this late hour.” The man says with utmost respect, his words measured and careful. Hera finds it humorous, the man is clearly terrified of the ISB agent whom her family has repeatedly thwarted. She braces for the inevitable, for Kallus to congratulate the man on capturing the rebel captain he’d been hunting for over a year and to plan how best to use her as bait to lure her loyal family to him.

“What warrants this disturbance lieutenant?” Kallus asks brusquely, his voice more rough than usual almost as if he’d just woken. Hera finds the question odd. He obviously knows the man just brought him a high-ranking rebel. The agent unhurriedly settles into the chair behind the desk, his movements controlled and graceful. “This woman tried to sedate me, a lieutenant of the Empire! This is the syringe she used, I brought it for evidence in the case against her.” He states firmly, as if reading her death sentence.

“She tried to sedate you? When and where did this occur?” Kallus asks, his expression and cold tone remaining the same; unbothered and languid. Perfectly masking whatever it is he’s thinking. “The incident occurred an hour ago in the Inaldi district.” He says with confidence, as if giving the correct answer to a question in class. Hera catches the pull at his lips as he fights to control a triumphant smirk; not nearly as disciplined as the agent behind the desk.

Kallus’ eyes narrow as he looks at the haughty lieutenant before him, the ridiculous young man practically giddy with victory. He rests his elbows on the desk, bringing his hands up to steeple his fingers. He takes a deep breath in, exhaling a heavy sigh that makes the man freeze.

“You left your station while on active duty to visit a city well known for its pleasure houses and think that it’s a good idea to drag a prostitute to my ship as evidence of your neglect.” He states in a threatening yet deadly calm tone that makes the man’s blood run cold. Hera’s eyebrow co*cks, not having expected him to round on his fellow imp. Kallus fixes him with a deadly glare that makes him visibly shrink back, much to Hera’s delight.

“She…she tried to drug an imperial officer.” He argues meekly, instantly cowing under Kallus’s intimidating stare. “Did you ever consider that perhaps she just didn’t want to kriff you?” He asks, his voice seething with an irritation Hera hadn’t expected. Is his acting really this good or is he just incredibly cranky upon waking? The lieutenant gapes, lost for words and shocked to the core that his superior would use such language or suggest such an offensive thing.

“Apparently not.” Kallus answers for the man, his tone as firm and deadly serious as his expression as his hands come to rest on the desk before him. “Instead, you drag a drugged-up whor* to ISB so that I can spend hours putting it on record that the woman didn’t want you.” He explains flatly, without any empathy for the man’s embarrassment. The lieutenant shrinks comically in the face of the intimidating ISB agent glaring at him. To his credit, he actually tries to argue the point, albeit in a pathetically meek voice. “She tried to drug me.”

The cold mask the agent wears slips for a moment, revealing unbridled rage as he rises to his full height, towering above the lieutenant who shrinks back further. Impressive, Hera thinks. Kallus glowers, challenging the man to see what would happen if he dare argue. When it’s clear that he’s scared speechless, the agent leans forward to rest his hands on the desk, golden eyes still baring into the man.

“You’re wasting imperial resources and time. There’s a real threat out there that I’m trying to fight and yet here you are on my doorstep, disturbing what little rest I allow myself, complaining about a prostitute who refuses to sleep with you. A prostitute from Inaldi which means she works for the Huts who are no doubt wondering where their asset is. You’ve not only wasted time but brought unnecessary risk to the Empire! We’re fighting one war; we don’t need the likes of you starting another one with the Huts!” He presses loudly enough that the troopers guarding the door outside can no doubt hear.

The man’s face burns brightly, his head lowered with shame. If he had a tail, it’d be so deep between his legs that Hera doubts it’d ever come out. “My deepest apologies Agent Kallus!! I’ll…I’ll take her back this instant.” He stammers nervously, hands visibly shaking as he undoes her bindings, releasing her arms that are still too heavy for her to move.

“No. I’ll question her for the thorough report I’ll file regarding this incident and you will leave my ship this instant.” Kallus demands, the words drain the color from the lieutenant’s face. He stands frozen for a few moments, his insides squirming with dread but there’s nothing he can do. The damage is done, he’d dug his own grave and the terrifying agent will not be showing him mercy. “Yes sir. I apologize again, sir.” He says weakly, bowing deeply before scurrying from the office.

Hera listens to the sound of the troopers marching away from the door, before turning back to her captor, looking at him with a defiant expression. To her surprise, the enraged, cold demeanor of the agent is replaced by a look of genuine concern. “Captain Syndulla. I need you to tell me what was in this syringe.” He says quietly, his voice far softer than it’d been moments ago. ‘So, he does know it’s me.’ She thinks, having started to believe maybe he didn’t recognize her in this disguise.

Even in this state she boldly meets his gaze with brilliant green, narrowed eyes, keeping her mouth tightly shut. Perhaps it’s a trap, trying to trick her into confirming her identity. But wouldn’t he just throw her in a holding cell regardless? Her thoughts are still a bit hazy, making it hard to think clearly. His golden eyes bare into hers, noting how dilated her pupils are.

“I can run the syringe through a scanner but then it will be on record and harder for me to cover.” He reasons logically, his words not fully registering in her swimming mind. She co*cks her head to the side messily, still struggling to regain motor skills. He sighs in the face of her stubbornness, a tired look falling over his features she’d never seen him wear before. A gloved hand rubs at his forehead, an agitated sort of motion that confuses her.

When his hand drops, his expression is even more open and exhausted, golden eyes holding something like vulnerability in them. When he speaks, his voice is soft and soothing with a hint of pleading. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am trying to help you.” The look in his eyes makes her feel odd as if its ok for her to relax but that must be the drugs because if she were in her right mind, she’d Never relax in the presence of an enemy. But then again, Zeb did say that he is the new Fulcrum agent.

Her mind slowly churns over the idea, considering the night so far and how the agent hadn’t yet put her in binders…had actually manipulated the lieutenant into getting her out of binders. She sighs, finally dropping her challenging glare. “It’s a sedative salvaged from a crashed clone wars battleship. It’s old, lost its potency, it’ll wear off naturally soon.” She explains, slurring slightly but happy to find she can speak. That means it won’t be long before she’s able to move.

“I see.” He responds simply, voice still gentle. He presses a button on the desk, commanding the trooper who’d answered to bring soup, water, and a blanket to his office. Hera’s brows furrow in confusion, wondering what about the situation made the Agent suddenly crave soup. Was it a new interrogation method? Moments later, a trooper enters with the requested items, side-eyeing the twi’lek as they leave.

“Careful, it’s always far too hot at first.” He cautions, pushing the bowl in front of her and setting the water canister beside it. “It’s for me?” She asks, her questioning expression comical enough to make his brows raise. “You thought I was ordering myself a midnight snack?” He counters, the teasing note in his voice making the encounter feel oddly friendly.

She shrugs, reminding herself of the danger she’s still in; drugged and unarmed on a star destroyer that’s who knows how far from her family and her only ally is an ISB agent who claims to be on her side now. Not a good time to let her guard down, even if he is acting benevolent. It could be a charade after all. After struggling stubbornly a bit too long with the canister's cap, she finally relents, placing it in the agent's outstretched hand and looking glum as he easily opens it for her. "Do you need help?" Kallus asks uneasily, glancing at the soup before her. "I can manage." Hera states with a confidence she doesn't feel, far too proud to allow the man to feed her! Judging by the look on his face, he's relieved to not have to as well.

Slowly, he walks around the desk, snapping her from her head and putting her on high alert. He feels her alarmed eyes on him as he reaches for the blanket. “I’m just going to put this around you, alright? Thought you’d feel more comfortable being a little less exposed.” He explains, the considerate act completely confusing her. Absently, she nods, her cloudy thoughts bewildered as he gently drapes the blanket over her shoulders, being careful not to touch her. Unhurriedly, he settles himself back at his desk, taking out a data pad.

“Eat. It will help you feel better.” He encourages firmly, his naturally commanding air making her want to comply which she finds absolutely bizarre. She smiles at the absurdity of the situation, a frown replacing it a moment later as she thinks of her family and how much she wants to be with them right now. “I’ll only feel better when I’m off this ship.” She says, taking a few moments longer than usual to respond. He hums softly, nodding his head in agreement. “On that we can agree.” He muses languidly, his eyes roaming back to the data pad. She glances at the human across the desk wondering what he means; he’ll feel better once she’s off the ship or that he won’t feel better until he is. Perhaps both? Deciding her fuzzy mind isn't in the right state to analyze it, she turns her focus to the soup instead.

She stares at the challenge before her, trying to figure out her best option. Hands too shaky to properly grasp a spoon come instead to either side of the bowl. Leaning forward, she puts her lips on the side of the bowl keeping it on the desk while carefully tipping it forward enough to drink. Kallus' brows raise at her comical, very much undignified method, fighting a laugh at the long slurp she takes. Swallowing the first mouthful, she smiles happily, the warmth of the soup just as comforting as the blanket wrapped around her. Oblivious to how silly she looks, she takes another rather obnoxiously loud and long sip from the bowl, pulling a quiet snort of laughter from the agent who quickly disguises it as a cough.

“The ship is still at port. So that’s good.” He announces, not looking up from the data pad else he might actually laugh at her silly display. Her head automatically co*cks to the side, a brow lifting as she looks at him. “What are you doing?” She finally asks, her perplexed look going unnoticed. “Helping get you back to your people.” Kallus answers simply as if it’s the only natural explanation.

“My crew.” She corrects a bit more forcefully than she’d intended, withdrawing as he shoots her a pointed look. “Careful, the walls are thin. Don’t want to wake the whole ship.” He warns gently, his golden eyes meeting hers with a seriousness that makes her cloudy mind focus. It occurs to her what he’s really saying, is that they need to be careful what they say and how loud they say it; the walls have ears. Her stomach clenches slightly, realizing that if he really is a spy then this is the constant state he lives in; trekking through landmines while living with the enemy. One wrong move, one slipped sentence uttered too loudly and it’s all over. The thought depresses her oddly.

“How are you feeling? Do you think you can walk?” He asks quietly, earning a cautious nod from the twi’lek. “Good. My ship is ready now. Let’s get you home.” He says, setting his data pad down on the desk as he stands. Her legs falter as she tries to rise, holding onto his offered arm to steady herself before quickly removing it as if burned. “Nice and steady. We’ll have you home soon enough.” He assures her, steadying her each time she begins stumbling as they walk down the long, winding hallway.

She forces herself to remain calm, focusing on the uncertain legs beneath her while keeping an eye on the agent walking beside her, close enough to reach out if her legs give way. He’s walking slow, far too slow for a man of such great height. It dawns on her that he’s holding back to keep pace with her, letting her dictate their speed. Another oddly considerate and unexpected gesture. The knot in her stomach softens slightly as they enter the sparsely inhabited landing bay, finding a small ship ready with a lone trooper guarding the entry.

The trooper salutes Agent Kallus before stepping aside to let the twi’lek clamber ungracefully in. Not at all the usual way she leaves ships owned by the Empire. The thought makes her chuckle quietly, a small smile on her face as she settles into one of the two seats, fighting the urge to take the captain’s chair. The door seals behind Kallus and he catches her smirk as he settles into the co*ckpit. “Amused, are we?” He asks the still loopy woman, his hands moving expertly over the dash and bringing the engines to life.

“Of all the star destroyers I’ve escaped, I’ve never been saluted and escorted out.” She explains, giggling with relief as the ship exits the destroyer, heading instead to the nearby planet. A small grin pulls at Kallus’ mouth, finding her amusem*nt entertaining. “Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything.” He muses, setting the course for their destination.

“Agent Kallus, can I ask you a question?” She slurs slightly, the remaining drugs in her system making her feel oddly comfortable and at ease. “As long as it’s not in critique of my flying abilities, yes. And... you can just call me Kallus.” He adds, a bit of uncertainty in his friendly tone. “Alright, Kallus. Won’t your men find it suspicious? You leaving alone like this to bring me back?” She asks curiously, resting her cheek on her hand as she glances at her companion.

“No. They’ll probably assume I’m intending to use this as an excuse to visit the brothel myself. They won’t think past the most obvious motive.” He assures casually, his brows rising at her appalled expression. “It’s alright, I really don’t care much of what they think I do in private. Better they assume that than suspect my real intentions.” Something about the way he says it makes her feel strangely proud of the man, which again must be the drugs seeing as he’d been her enemy for so long.

“Real intentions being to help the rebellion.” She states aloud and she wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t her being saved. A timid smile lingers on his face, a gentleness in his eyes as he looks toward her. The expression he holds as he nods is complex, firm, and serious yet deeply guilted and timid as well. A few moments later, he returns his focus to the planet before them, taking a deep breath in.

“Captain Syndulla, may I ask you a question?” He asks respectfully, bringing a smirk to the twi’lek’s face. “It’s Hera. And you can but I may not answer.” She states, both sort of friendly and challenging, bringing a half smile to his face. “What the kriffing hell are you doing impersonating a prostitute?!” The words rush from his mouth, having stifled them down since entering his own office to find his ex-enemy in the scantily clad dress, drugged out of her mind.

“Obviously trying to drug the lieutenant so we can press him for intel.” She explains, finding his open curiosity and shock rather funny. “You’re not aware of how low his rank and position is? I can confidently assure you that he doesn’t have any intel important enough to do…well, this!” He motions to her, sounding as if he’s reprimanding her. “Worth a shot.” She argues weakly, crossing her arms stubbornly.

He sighs, suddenly looking immensely tired. “You do know you have a high-ranking imperial spy perfectly capable of retrieving intel, right?” Kallus says in a cautiously teasing way. She looks at him suspiciously and he sighs again, this time more heavily. “What is it you hoped to get from him?” He tries again, sounding deflated.

The twi’lek is silent for a few long moments making his stomach clench, suspecting that she won’t trust him even after all that. “Intel on the location of captives. We’re told a group of engineers were taken from their homes and are being held by the Empire.” She says firmly, giving him only so much information as necessary. Golden eyes briefly meet green, sharing a look of understanding. He nods as he considers her words, flying ever lower into the atmosphere toward the docking port.

“They are working on something large which would require capable engineers to construct. Unfortunately, the files on it are heavily restricted, even requesting access to them warrants arrest and charges for treason.” He says thoughtfully, looking up as he feels her eyes on him. “It was one of the questions I attempted to pursue. Getting the plans are not possible at this time but I’m sure I can locate the captive engineers for you.” He says confidently, the determined look on his face assuring her he won’t let her down.

“Thank you.” She says quietly, still unable to fully believe what’s going on here. If he really is working with them now, then she can be sure the impossibly persistent man Will get her the information she needs. “How will you get the intel to us?” She adds, a sadness in her voice that he quickly connects to the fallen togruta.

“I’m stationed in this precinct for the next 3 rotations. There’s an abandoned warehouse on the northside of the Inaldi district. Meet me there in 2 rotations when the second sun sets.” He plans, knowing she’ll probably believe it’s a trap. She nods, deciding to move with caution regardless of what’s happened tonight. They settle into silence, withdrawal from the drugs making her feel tired and heavy.

“I’m sorry, by the way. What happened to Jarrus and Ahsoka. I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, hoping not to cross the line. After a few moments of silence, he worries his bottom lip, feeling that he had indeed gone too far. “Thank you.” She says quietly, almost inaudible. Suddenly, it occurs to her that she needs to comm her family who are no doubt frantically searching for her! Her slender hand fumbles into the back of her dress, searching for the tiny device as Kallus’ brows raise.

He clears his throat, keeping his eyes glued straight ahead, far from the bizarre struggling efforts of the twi’lek in the small co*ckpit with him, fumbling within her scant garments. “What, ah…what are you doing?” He asks in a tone both comically stiff and polite. “Trying to get the…get the…aha, got it! Have to comm my crew.” She announces, happily raising the small device that’d been well concealed in her clothing.

“Oh. Good.” Kallus breaths awkwardly, heaving a quiet sigh of relief as he lands a few ports away from the all too familiar Ghost. Far enough to not raise suspicion as to why he’d land beside the ship and not attempt to detain its crew. “Spectre 4, come in. This is Spectre 2.” She adds needlessly, her family would recognize her voice regardless. Not a millisecond passes before the gruff voice of the lasat rings from the comm.

“Spectre 2, where are you?? You, ok?? What happened? Where can I get ya???” He urges in rapid succession, clearly beside himself with worry. It brings a warm smile to her face that she notes is mirrored by the agent as he looks softly at the comm. Suddenly, a droid and two kids’ voices bombard the comm channel, all talking over each other in a mad daze. “You three, shut it!!” Zeb growls, silencing the others so that Hera can speak.

“I’m alright. I’ll be home in a minute. Meet me there and I’ll tell you everything.” She adds calmly, giving a warm look to the man beside her whose cheeks grow slightly pink, a grateful smile pulling at his lips. “Be there in a sec!” Zeb assures and with his tone, she believes it! The man can move insanely fast when he wants to.

She unstraps herself, finding it far easier to stand than before. “Do you need help? I had to land a few ports away.” Kallus says, his voice gentle with concern as he rises and opens the ramp for her to exit. “I can manage, besides, you’ve helped me enough tonight.” She assures warmly, taking a few steps down the ramp before fixing him with a grateful look. “Thank you, Kallus.” He nods in response, limbs closing in as if at attention which makes her heart warm with his awkward habits.

Her small hand gently squeezes his arm right above the elbow, her eyes meeting his, holding a warmth that makes his muscles relax a fraction. “Thank you.” She says more firmly, the sincerity in her expression and tone making him falter for a moment before nodding once more. The spot on his arm remains warm even once her hand has left it. He fights the bizarre desire to ask her to do that again and maybe even tell him everything will be ok in that motherly tone of hers. He kicks himself internally, knowing she's only being this kind to him because of the drugs in her system and that he's the last person worthy of asking for odd gestures of comfort, no matter how much he craves it.

She smiles and turns, looking over her shoulder to remind him that she’ll see him in 2 rotations and that he better not be late. He nods obediently, watching her until she turns the corner out of sight. Just then it occurs to him that letting a beautiful, slightly drugged, scantily clad woman wander these shady streets alone at this late hour is probably not a good idea. He silently tails her to ensure her safety, following just out of sight and keeping to the shadows. A few minutes later, a sigh of relief escapes him as the twi’lek enters her ship.

Not a moment later, a massive lasat barrels down the corridor, eyes set only on the ship before him. Zeb doesn’t slow until he’s in the Ghost and Kallus briefly worries that he’ll plough right into his drugged captain. “Hera!!!! Was so worried ‘bout you!!” Zeb’s deep voice echoes around the silent port, tears of relief clearly audible, making Kallus’ heart warm. He imagines the lasat wrapping his massive arms around the tiny twi’lek, pulling her into what must be the best hug in the galaxy.

He shrinks deeper into the shadows to conceal his presence, fighting the intense urge to scamper into the ship to timidly request a giant lasat hug as well. The idea makes his cheeks burn, how absurd it would be! He reprimands himself for even wanting such a ridiculous thing! What the kriffing hell is going on with him tonight!! Must be the lack of sleep.

Just then, two teenagers charge down the same corridor Zeb had dashed through moments ago, the frantic pace relaying their intense distress. It’s almost comical how they compete to be the first one to arrive. "Hera!!!! Are you ok?!" Sabine cries out, her voice shaking with emotion. "Zeb let me in! I wanna hug her too!" Ezra demands and Kallus can practically hear the boy elbowing his way into what he assumes must be a group hug. The image in his mind of the little family's emotional reunion making him choke up slightly and he bites his lip to keep it from continuing on with it's silly trembling. 'I really need to ensure I get more rest, I'm becoming soft', he tells himself before taking a deep steadying breath.

About to retreat, he freezes as the rolling sound of astromech tires approach from behind. The hair on his neck stands on end as Hera’s droid barrels past him, the mech no doubt having seen him standing there in the shadows. But Chopper doesn’t stop to give him any attention, laser focused on getting to his beloved owner. Berating himself for lingering needlessly, he quickly returns to his own ship, a strange feeling in his chest as he punches in the coordinates. Almost like a void opening in his chest; empty, lonely, isolated. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to take off, returning to the sterile Empire alone. *****

Chapter 6: Another drop off another problem

Chapter Text

The last orange, yellow rays of sunlight streak across the sky over the dismal city that only truly comes to life in the darkest hours of the night. A cool breeze rustles through his striped fur, threatening his already short temper. He’d hated the mission from the get-go but having to linger in the abysmal city for another 2 rotations after it’d failed so terribly grated his nerves to shreds. The only consolation in the entire messy affair is that his family was finally given proof of Kallus’ defection, given a glimpse of his true loyalties and who he really is. And even that has been turned on its head, much to Zeb’s dismay.

“Is this really necessary?” Zeb asks yet again, his ears lowering under Hera’s stern expression. “Yes, Zeb, it is. We can’t be too cautious. He could be playing a long game, setting us up to catch us all at once.” She explains with forced calm, feeling a strange pang of guilt as she doubts the agent’s intentions. He’d seemed so genuine that night he’d saved her and yet he’d also displayed how good his acting is when he’d reamed into that lieutenant. And then again, she was drugged through the entire interaction so whose to know how much of what she remembers actually happened and how much was the drugs’ fabrication.

No, they can’t risk going to this drop off unprepared and vulnerable. If she learned anything from that night, it’s that she needs to be even more cautious when planning the crew’s missions and not take any unnecessary risks. Her family is far too precious to her to let them walk right into a potential trap, even if her gut is telling her to trust the agent.

“It’s almost time.” She announces seriously, her back stiffening as she looks around at her family. “Sabine, Zeb, Chopper, you three go out and take position. Alert us the moment you see any sign of Agent Kallus or any troopers patrolling. Any sign of an incoming attack or ambush, you let us know. Clear?” She commands, her authoritative demeanor leaving no room for debate.

“Clear.” Sabine agrees calmly, her voice muffled behind her helmet. “mwap.” Chop agrees, his little astromech arm saluting the twi’lek. “Clear.” Zeb repeats glumly. The fact that his family doesn’t trust Kallus after all he’s already done for them makes him feel odd. And the fact that it makes him feel odd makes him feel bad. After all, what the man’s done against them far outweighs the good he’s done thus far. But his gut tells him that the human’s changed. He sighs, letting the battle between his mind and stomach take the back burner so he can focus on the task at hand.

“Ezra, you’re with me. Stay out of sight. If he does pull anything, we need the element of surprise to get a leg up.” Hera states firmly, repeating the plan once more so that they’re all clear on their roles. The team moves out and into position, each checking in when they arrive at their post. Zeb settles into his designated rooftop location, peering through his binocs at the crowd bustling below, trying to spot the familiar agent while remaining out of sight. A soft breeze rustles his fur, making his ears sway in the dying light of the planet’s second sunset, his large green eyes taking in the brilliant red, orange, and yellow hues painting the sky.

Pulling his attention from the rather romantic sky above, he focuses on scanning the streets for any signs of imperial threat, finding only party goers and creatures hoping to cut loose for a night of shameless debauchery. “All clear over here.” He reports, the nagging feeling that this is all for nothing making his voice deepen slightly with disapproval. “Mwap mwap wap.” Chopper chimes in, reporting essentially the same. “I’ve got visual.” Sabine’s voice rings over the comm, low and serious as always. Zeb’s ears rise, suddenly feeling excited which is odd. “He’s alone.” She confirms, making Zeb’s chest warm while he bites back the ‘I told you so’ on the tip on his tongue.

“Pull back. Tail him but don’t let him see you. Stay vigilant.” Hera’s collected tone rings through the device, sounding as reserved and on edge as it always does when on missions. Zeb spots Sabine a few rooftops away diligently following her target. As she leaps from roof to roof, he can’t help but pause in awe of the little human’s agility. She’s almost as dexterous as a lasat her age would be, which is truly something to behold. Scouring the streets below once more for any signs of ambush, his massive muscles easily propel him into the air to the adjacent rooftop.

A few nimble jumps later and he finally spots the human below, wearing that same hooded jacket he’d worn the other times he’d seen him sneaking about on Fulcrum business. For some reason, it brings a smile to his face, seeing the man without that restrictive high collared uniform. As he moves through the boisterous crowd, the agent looks around nonchalantly, the movement appearing casual but Zeb knows he’s scanning his surroundings for any stray imperials that might cause issue. The human turns to look over his shoulder and Zeb can feel those golden eyes brush over him despite the considerable distance between them, somehow detecting his presence even though there’s no way he’s visible from the street.

A strange tugging in his chest urges him to scale the side of the building and sneak in closer to Kallus. Crouching low on the rooftop, he shakes his head against the bizarre impulse, watching intently as the human pushes through the crowd in the direction of the old warehouse. He’s not surprised that he doesn’t stop, heading with laser focus to his destination. “Headin’ your way fast Spectre 2. No stops. Still alone.” Zeb reports calmly, trying and failing to keep the smugness from his tone. “Stay vigilant.” Hera presses sternly, picking up on the unsaid ‘told you so’ in his voice. “Copy that.” He says gruffly, not wanting to get on her bad side. The twi’lek is quite terrifying when mad.

“Package is at the door.” Sabine notes in her hushed tone, giving her captain the final heads up. The Mandalorian easily scales the side of the building down to the street, keeping to the shadows to avoid the agent’s attention. A futile effort in Zeb’s opinion but he follows suite, keeping up protocol if only for show. They take their position on ground level, watching as the agent disappears into the massive warehouse. Sabine and Zeb scan the perimeter one more time and when satisfied they silently slip into the side entrances.

Zeb’s keen eyes, able to see in the dark much better than a human, watch as the agent takes a few steps forward into a patch of dying light in the center of the warehouse far from anything that could be used as cover. Leaving himself vulnerable and exposed if the rebels decided to attack. The thought makes Zeb’s chest tighten strangely. Hearing light footsteps above, Kallus looks up into the darkened second level, small holes of the metal walkway above offering clues as to the twi’lek’s movements.

“Fulcrum.” Hera greets, stepping closer to the railing and into view, arms crossed as she looks down at him with a serious expression. “Spectre 2.” Kallus responds, his tone milder than hers as he lowers his hood and gazes up at the twi’lek diligently searching his face. “I found what you requested. Everything is on the data stick in my pocket.” He says calmly, his voice even and smooth showing no sign of discomfort or disquiet. Even if he feels disappointed at the lukewarm greeting, he doesn’t show it. Truth be told, Kallus would have been sorely disappointed in the Ghost Crew had they not been cautious with him.

“May I?” He adds politely, motioning to his side pocket. “No. Chop, scan him.” Hera commands firmly, unwavering despite feeling like she’s betraying his previous kindness. Kallus holds perfectly still, his expression serene and unbothered as the little astromech rolls forward from the shadows to scan him for wires and weapons. The agent’s golden eyes flick momentarily toward the direction where the immense lasat is hiding, once again honing into his location without seeing him. It makes Zeb’s heart skip a few beats, wanting to inch closer to the human.

“Mwaaaap mwap mwwaaap.” The droid grumbles happily, announcing to his twi’lek that the agent is all clear. The sides of Kallus’ mouth twitch upward as he nods to the astromech, finding his crude choice of words rather amusing. A sigh leaves the captain, not fully relaxing but relieved none the less as she descends the stairs, her footsteps echoing as she crosses the giant warehouse toward the agent. Kallus’ golden eyes widen with surprise as she stops in front of him, locking eyes with him with a cautious smile on her face, hand outstretched to receive the data sticks.

“I thought you’d want me to leave them down here, safer that way.” He reproves lightly as he retrieves the sticks, gently placing them in her hand. “Well, Fulcrum trusted you and Spectre 4 trusts you, and their opinions mean a lot to me. If they trust you, then I can at least give you a chance.” Hera reasons in a way that’s both friendly and mildly threatening. The sentiment pulls an affectionate smile from Zeb, the irritated knot in his stomach easing tremendously. Kallus looks down at the twi’lek with an expression of surprise and gratitude.

“I won’t disappoint you.” His voice is firm and sincere, full of conviction that fills her with a little more confidence in her decision. “Make sure of it.” She warns seriously, eyebrow co*cking while a small smile tugs at her lips. Golden eyes soften, finding it incredible how this crew is so impossibly forgiving, willing to give even him a second chance! Albeit cautiously and with the look their captain is giving him, it’s clear that he’s still on precariously thin ice. But they’re giving him a chance. The notion makes it even more important to him that he handles their trust with utmost respect and devotion. Finding the sentiments to be a bit too overwhelming, threatening to overpower his ability to keep his composure, he clears his throat and pivots the conversation to a topic he’s far more comfortable with…work.

“I assigned myself for the transport, so you’ll have help from within.” He states seriously, the slightly timid look in his eyes betraying his serene demeanor. “Won’t that bring suspicion to you?” Hera asks skeptically, concerned not only that it may be another trap but that the agent might put himself at risk unnecessarily. “I’ve been bested many times by your crew in the past. Once more won’t raise that much question.” The admission is oddly humble yet saddening for some reason.

A loud crash at the back of the warehouse sends all the fur on Zeb’s back on end, both Kallus and Hera nearly jumping from their skins. They spin toward the sound, Hera aiming her blaster into the darkness as the agent drops into a fighting stance. “I take it that’s not your crew?” Kallus asks with disciplined calm, aching for the borifle left in his quarters. In a blaster fight he’ll be at a disadvantage without a weapon but if the attacker gets within range, he knows approximately 20 different ways to annihilate them with his bare hands.

“How do I know it isn’t yours?” Hera counters sternly, her brilliant green eyes narrowing at the darkness. “If it is then we’re both in trouble.” He admits his stomach clenching at the thought of being discovered this early on. The trepidation in his tone coupled with his instinctual reaction to the sudden sound makes her inclined to believe him.

“Spectre 6?” Hera calls out, hearing the teen’s voice respond from above ‘wasn’t me’. “Spectre 5?” She tries next. “Not me.” “Wasn’t me either.” Zeb offers, his gruff voice making the corner of Kallus’ mouth twitch upward. “Fan out. Find the source.” Hera commands, motioning for Kallus to stay with her where she can keep tabs on him. “As far as I know, the front entrance is the only way in or out, unless a window has been broken.” He supplements, his keen eyes diligently scanning the area for any signs of motion and noting where Sabine and Zeb are.

“You didn’t search the area?” Kallus breathes incredulously, finding the mishap negligent and downright careless for the crew. “That was Spectre 6’s job.” Zeb’s gruff voice grumbles in the darkness, scolding the teen. “I.Did.My.Job.” Ezra snarls back, somewhere high above on the second floor, suddenly seething. “Clearly.” The lasat chides easily, earning an irritable growl from the young jedi that he ignores. “Enough you two. Let’s focus.” Hera rebukes, blaster at the ready as she slowly approaches the back of the warehouse with Kallus in tow. Just when he’s beginning to hope it’d just been a stray cat, a sudden jerking movement catches his eye.

“There!” He points to the head bobbing just above a crate and Hera shoots above it to spook them from hiding, pulling a loud ‘ah’ from the intruder. Moments later, chaos breaks out as the young jedi jumps down from the second level accidentally colliding with the lasat who’d almost pounced on their uninvited guest. The Mandalorian and twi’lek both rush toward the container the man disappears behind, jumping out of the way just in time to avoid the tower of crates he pushes over as a distraction. The droid rams the man in the leg at full speed, making a high pitch cry as he strings a series of curse together.

Kallus can hardly believe the disorder of the group, Zeb and Ezra yelling at one another as they pry themselves apart, Hera and Sabine navigating over the mess of crates blocking their path and the little droid harassing the man he’s unable to fully stop. Stepping from the shadows in front of the man, Kallus punches him square in the face, the force knocking him to the ground groaning in pain. Blood pours from the man’s nose, hidden underneath his hands. Golden eyes flick up toward the recomposed Ghost Crew as they approach him and the intruder on the ground.

Seeing the miserable state of the man, Zeb’s upper lip twitches upward in a half smirk, revealing sharp fangs. “Regret runnin’ now, eh?” He taunts, grabbing him roughly by the collar and dropping him to sit on a crate, the crew and Kallus surrounding him, blocking all escape routes. “Who are you?” Hera demands, arms crossing over her chest, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Nobody!” The man snaps, still holding his bleeding nose while throwing a glare around the group.

“Not Imperial are ye?” Zeb growls, one massive hand grabbing the top of his head, the other yanking his hands away from his nose to allow Kallus a good look at his bloodstained face. The human appears in his early 20s, with dark beady eyes and rather forgettable features. The clothes he wears are raggedy, torn in some places, patched in others. “Looks like a vagabond.” Kallus notes after thoroughly inspecting the man. “Vagabond?” Ezra repeats, the taunting in his voice unmistakable. “That’s a fancy way to say street rat.” The young jedi teases, earning an eyeroll from the agent.

The man fights against Zeb’s grasp, the latter releasing him with a low growl, fighting the urge to wipe his hands on his suite. “Good job everyone, can’t believe ye solved it so quick. Group a real geniues, aren’t ye? Yeah, I’m a vagabond.” The man sneers, shooting a pointed look of disdain at the tall human who’d broken his nose. “Why were you snooping around?” Sabine presses, blasters still gripped tightly, threateningly. “Wasn’t snoopin’. I was sleepin’! I’ve been stayin’ here for weeks. It’s you all whose intrudin’!” He accuses, his vicious attitude less than savory.

“How much did you hear?” Hera asks calmly, her voice softening slightly in an attempt to get the man to calm down and cooperate. “Enough.” He snaps back, wiping at the blood on his face and glaring at Kallus. “Describe ‘enough’.” Kallus’ smooth, languid voice deepens in a menacing way, muscular arms crossing over his chest as he stares down at the overconfident, aggressive young man.

“’Nough to know you’re a filthy Imp passin’ intel to these rebels ‘bout some transport job ‘bout ta happen. Wonder how much the Empire’ll give me if I tell ‘m ‘bout you, goldie.” The man taunts, meeting Kallus’ cold gaze with a challenging smug smirk. Despite the severity of the situation, Zeb snorts quietly at the humorous diss, deciding to use ‘goldie’ at a later time.

“Well, that’s not gonna happen.” Ezra says confidently, stepping closer to the man with his arm stretched forward. “You’re going to forget this all happened, you won’t remember any of us or what we spoke of.” He says firmly, his eyes closing with concentration as his hand moves ever so slightly. Jedi mind tricks, Kallus identifies, recalling the many times the Grand Inquisitor had used it on him to strengthen Kallus’ ability to withstand it had Kanan ever tried it on him.

“Kriff off kid!” The man barks, spitting at Ezra’s feet who looks thoroughly aghast. The young jedi’s brow furrows, the enraged nearly murderous expression on his face making Kallus’ skin crawl. Even with the tumultuous hormonal changes that accompany that awful age, there’s no reason for him to get this upset. “You’re going to forget this all happened, you won’t remember any of us or what we spoke of.” He repeats more firmly, a light sweat forming on his brow as he tries to force the man to forget.

The man’s eyes squeeze tightly shut, teeth gritting stubbornly as he resists the mental bombardment. A sharp gasp of pain escapes the man, his face contorting with agonizing effort as his body trembles. “Ezra!” Hera snaps after a few long moments, unwilling to let the teen torture a homeless man. Her small hand rests on his shoulder as she pulls him back, the man slumping forward and gasping for breath.

“Remember what Kanan said! Using too much force like that can break a person’s mind. If they’re too stubborn, it won’t work no matter how hard you push.” She urges gently. Something odd flashes over the teen’s expression at the mention of his Master. “Ye filthy jedi! Can’t force people to do what ya want when ya want it! Wonder how much the Empire’ll give me for you, brat!” The man snaps viciously, regaining control and spitting again at the teen’s feet. Ezra’s face darkens with murderous rage, hands balling into fists.

Zeb’s large hands instantly snap forward around the teen’s arms, keeping him from pouncing on the man. “Ezra, calm down.” Hera urges in her firm yet gentle voice, standing between the young jedi and the crude man glaring daggers at them all.

“Calm down?! This skeemo is going to turn us all over to the Empire for whatever credits he can get! Just let me force him to forget, doesn’t matter if his mind breaks!” Ezra argues, his temper flaring in a way Kallus has never seen before. Golden eyes meet green as he and Zeb exchange a worried glance. “Ezra, I need you to calm down. There has to be another solution.” Hera soothes, her hands coming to his shoulders which seems to calm him down a fraction.

“I believe I have an alternative solution.” Kallus announces slowly, his tone unhurried and smooth as he tries to deescalate the tumultuous situation. “The Empire has recently perfected a new noninvasive form of interrogation that’s proven to be most…effective.” He pauses for a moment, casually looking over the group of rebels as if asking permission to explain. When no one argues, he calmly continues, looking down lazily at the man slumped and glaring on the crate.

“Immediately following the purge of Dizon Fray, the Empire made an interesting discovery. The cries of the dying dizonites were transmitted to the nearest cruiser for record keeping purposes. After hours of listening and recording, the officers were found in various states of intense emotional distress in the lowest regions of the ship, desperately trying to escape the cries.” He explains languidly, as if reciting a bedtime story rather than explaining a genocide.

“They found that the death cries of the young dizonites have an especially powerful effect on listeners. The Empire took the cries, altering it slightly until they perfected a sound potent enough to break even the most resilient captive. Unfortunately, a few hours of listening will drive even the most strong-minded into delusions strong enough that anything they say will be discredited. So, it’s reserved mostly for the…uncooperative.” The foreboding emphasis on the last word coupled with his unrelenting glare makes the man before him shiver with terror.

The Ghost Crew stare at the agent with various degrees of apprehension and concern, not liking where this appears to be going. Ezra’s eyes, however, burn with interest as he listens to the agent calmly explain. Kallus’ hand digs into a hidden pocket within his jacket, revealing two devices small enough to fit inside a human ear, his expression serene with a disquietingly pleasant smile twisting his face.

“So, I can just pop these in and in a few hours, we won’t have to worry about our friend here ever being taken seriously again.” He says cheerfully, his merry smile broadening victoriously as he looks down at the trembling man below him.

“What?!” The man on the crates cries incredulously, his eyes wide with terror of the horrifying notion but more so by the casual, nonchalant way the agent proposed the heinous plan! “Absolutely not!!” Hera barks, her face twisting with fury as she takes a step away from the agent as if he’s contaminated somehow.

Kallus looks at her as if shocked by her reaction. “Well, we can’t let him loose. He admitted he’s going to the Empire.” Kallus pushes back reasonably, sounding confused by her vehement disapproval. “Your ‘solution’ still results with breaking a person’s mind!” The twi’lek argues sternly, her hands coming to her hips in defiance. Zeb looks at the human with a hurt, horrified expression, his massive arms crossing over his chest in agreement with his captain.

“Yes, but he won’t be the one to blame.” Kallus reasons, pointing toward the teen and absently smiling with feigned ignorance. “Yeah, don’t think that’s the issue here.” Sabine chides, shaking her head at the agent and bringing one hand to her hip.

“Well, I don’t see another viable option to keep our friend here from talking.” Kallus says smoothly, nodding toward the trembling man nearly beside himself with fear. “Ppppppp…please!!! Please ddddon’t…please dddon’t let himmm…” He begs the group, staring with horror at the agent, flinching hard with every small movement Kallus makes.

“It’s ok, he’s not going to do anything to you.” Hera soothes kindly, shooting a pointed look to the agent who sighs and blinks lazily as if this entire ordeal is boring him to death.

“You know as well as I, that I can’t have any loose ends doing what I am doing for the rebellion. He already admitted he’s going to turn me in to the Empire, that’s literally a death threat. If I must choose between my own survival and his mental wellbeing, it’s no choice at all. I can do more for the rebellion, more to help free the galaxy of the Empire’s tyranny whereas this man…” He glances at him with distaste, then back to the twi’lek. “I doubt he’s ever done nor ever will do anything for anyone other than himself.” Kallus’ logic is sound, forcing Hera to pause in order to choose her words wisely.

“He makes a good point. Unless we can think of some other way to keep him quiet, he’s not giving us much choice.” Ezra argues, surprisingly siding with the agent which earns him a livid glare from his captain. “We Don’t torture people!” She hisses sternly, small hands balling into fists. “What if we ship em off far out in the outer rim? Somewhere far away from the Empire so he can’t blab?” Zeb suggests, his gruff voice raised in cautious optimism.

“The fuel alone for such an endeavor couldn’t be justified. Let alone that would be his death sentence. A man of his likes would be either sold into slavery or skinned alive and roasted by the natives.” Kallus counters indifferently, appearing completely unfazed by either notion.

“I won’t tell anyone anything I heard!! I didn’t hear anything anyway! Nothing! I forgot it all!!! I wasn’t ever even here! I promise!! I promise on my mom, my gran, my own life! I promise I ain’t gonna tell no one! Not a soul!! Please!!! Please just let me go! Please don’ let him do anythin’ to me!!!” The man pleads, crawling on his knees with hands clasped together, staring up at Hera as if his life is in her hands. Her mouth hangs open for a moment, never having seen a grown man beg in such a pathetic manner before. It’s heart wrenching and sickening all at once.

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” Kallus chides coldly, unamused and unbothered by the emotional outburst. Zeb glares at him, ears flattening against his head at the frigidity of the man. He’d thought that the human had changed but apparently he’s as uncaring and unsympathetic as he’d previously thought. The man is trembling uncontrollably, tears rolling down his face as he anxiously waits for his fate. Zeb and Hera turn to the agent, their stern and furious expressions making his stomach drop, which of course, he doesn’t allow a hint of to cross his face.

“Ugh fine! Just stop looking at me like that.” Kallus sighs, rolling his eyes under the lasat’s aggrieved scowl. The man turns to the tall, blonde human, his eyes wide with apprehension as he watches his every move. “We’ll let you go but if I hear even a whisper of today's events, and believe me I Will know, there’s not a decrepit, derelict, dismal hole in this galaxy you can attempt to disappear into where I won’t find you. And when I do,” Kallus kneels, forcing the man to look right into his golden eyes burning with danger.

“You will beg me to bring you to madness just to escape the torment I’ll unleash upon you.” He breathes calmly, the threat delivered so serenely it nearly draws the man’s spirit straight from his body. “Do you understand me?” He adds, the unbridled rage in those golden eyes making all the hair on the man’s body stand on end. “Ye..ye…ye…ye..ye…” He stammers, nodding his deathly pale head frantically as words fail him. “Good. Now go.” Kallus says firmly, rising to his full height with hands clasped authoritatively behind his back.

Hera opens her mouth, wanting to console the terrified man but he scampers away at full speed, desperate to escape that horrifying agent. The Ghost Crew slowly turn back to Kallus all with various degrees of horror written on their faces, except Ezra, whose curious and awed expression doesn’t sit well with the agent.

“They’re just ear pods.” He assures amiably, snapping instantly back into a friendly, mildly timid disposition. He holds one up awkwardly as if the sight of it will prove his point. “What? You…you made that all up??” Zeb growls, his eyes growing even wider as his mouth hangs open, mind struggling to recuperate from shock. His comically stunned expression pulls a soft smile from the human who stifles a laugh, clearing his throat instead.

“Well, the torture method I unfortunately did not make up. But I did lie about having the recording. This is just music I like.” He puts one pod in his ear to demonstrate before giving the other to Zeb who hesitantly takes it, large green eyes locked on the human. After a few moments, he brings it closer to his large ear, slowly nodding his head to the beat of the song playing. “Catchy.” He notes, his uneasy tone filled with stunned confusion. “Mn.” Kallus hums in agreement, a sheepish smile crossing his face, disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. As if in a daze, Zeb gives the tiny device back to the agent who neatly tucks them back into his pocket, his heart clenching uncomfortably with the lingering unease of the group.

“I…I would never do that to anyone. Just…needed him to believe I would. I couldn’t think of an alternative way to keep us all safe short of imprisoning him.” Kallus explains in a sheepish tone, his golden eyes flicking around the group in a rather timid way at complete odds with the horrifying performance they’d just witnessed.

“Well…that’s ah…that’s a relief.” Hera stammers with forced calm, still trying to regain her composure after that unnerving display. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kinda scary.” Sabine taunts playfully, unsure how to interact with the former enemy. The agent’s brows lift subtly, the open rather vulnerable expression making Zeb’s heart feel oddly warm. “Um…thank you?” He says gingerly, golden eyes narrowing with uncertainty earning a soft chuckle from the Mandalorian.

“Don’t mention it.” Sabine chides a bit more confidently, shrugging her shoulders while her arms remain crossed over her chest. After a few awkward moments, shock still lingering around the group, Kallus clears his throat softly. “I should get back, before anyone becomes suspicious.” He states with a bit more rigidity than before, hinting at his own discomfort. Zeb wants to argue, wants to keep the human near, maybe even give him a big hug to dispel his unease but with his family here and no good excuse for the agent to linger, he simply nods.

“Thank you, Fulcrum.” Hera says tersely, her tone friendly yet frigid somehow. Kallus nods, turning gracefully with measured movements toward the exit. The rather curt parting doesn’t sit right with the lasat, especially seeing the taunt way the human’s shoulders tense as he leaves.

“See ya on the transport!” Zeb says amiably, a kind grin on his face as he waves goodbye to the double agent. The comically zealous expression so endearingly genuine, it makes Kallus smile as he looks over his shoulder at the lasat. He nods once before pulling on his hood and disappearing into the night. Zeb stares a few moments longer than necessary at the door, his smile lingering sadly as Hera eyes him suspiciously. It’s odd for Zeb to act so openly friendly with his ex-rival, even more baffling that Kallus actually smiled!

“Uh, what was that about?” Sabine asks, co*cking her head at the massive lasat in an inquisitive way. “What?” Zeb asks brusquely, shrugging casually yet feeling strangely embarrassed under his family’s scrutinizing looks. “Come on guys, let’s get out of here and back to the Ghost.” Hera commands, saving Zeb from having to explain whatever that was about. A feeling of dread pools in her stomach as she trails behind the lasat, worrying greatly about her friend. He’s already this attached to the agent who may still betray them.

Chapter 7: Rescue Gone Wrong

Chapter Text

Everything is going precisely as planned, not that Kallus had any doubts. He’d held up his end, perfectly carrying out his duties to a ‘t’ as usual. From securing the engineers in the designated holding block furthest from trooper aide, ensuring as he did that they all loath him as much as possible to avoid any suspicion of his involvement in their rescue, to the temporary loss of power due to ‘engine failure’ that covers the Ghost’s presence upon arrival, allowing them to lock on to the ship and sneak aboard unnoticed while the scanners were rebooting.

Now to see if his allies can manage to be on time. Slow, languid steps take him down the long quiet hallway, pausing as he approaches the lift. As he waits, his keen mind rolls over the numerous optional alternative plans he’d concocted in case things go as they usually do with the Ghost Crew, hoping they wouldn’t be required. Golden eyes scan the halls to his right and left, hoping no troopers will oversee him waiting strangely instead of taking the lift down to the holding block to ‘reassure the captives of the Empire’s might even in the face of power outage’ as he’d made it clear was his intention.
A frustrated sigh grumbles roughly in his throat at the delay. Honestly, they have one job here! He’s made it as simple as can be for them, the least they can do is show up on time! “Told ye, it’s this way!” He hears the familiar gruff voice hiss as quietly as can be managed, which is still rather loud especially in the silent corridor. “How was I supposed to know?” Ezra complains indignantly, feigning innocence that earns a low growl from the lasat.

“Keep your voices down!” Sabine hisses, her voice, though muffled behind the Mandalorian helmet, sounds the most mature and collected of the three. Kallus can’t help but roll his eyes at the inglorious entrance of the three rebels. ‘Make that four’, he thinks as the sound of the astromech zapping the teen, drawing and indignant ‘hey’ from Ezra, reaches his ears.

Hearing Zeb’s heavy footfalls approaching that he pretends not to notice, he casually taps the button to the lift before tucking his arms behind his back in his usual rigidly authoritative stance. The door slides open precisely as the rebels arrive, filing quickly into the lift before Kallus. “You’re late.” He lazily chides in greeting as the door slides closed.

“Yeah sorry ‘bout that. This one can’t follow orders to save his life.” Zeb growls, elbowing the young jedi who drones a ‘watch it’. He shoots a threatening look to the teen before settling beside Kallus, leaving the kids and Chopper to stand behind them. It’s strategic, in case they are ambushed by troopers upon arrival, his bulk will shield the kids from harm, giving them a chance to escape. “Well, he is a teenager.” Kallus says lightly, earning an overly embellished ‘thank you!’ from the blue haired teen.

Kallus taps another button, inserting his identification cylinder to override the lift’s base operation, ensuring they won’t be stopping until they get to the final floor where the captives are. “Not that misconduct shouldn’t be reprimanded.” He adds firmly, co*cking an eyebrow as he glances over his shoulder at the teen who scowls back.

“But it’s not surprising for his age.” The agent muses, shrugging tiredly at the lasat beside him. “Yeah well, sorry to keep ya waitin’. Things go accordin’ to plan on yer end?” Zeb asks, ears twitching as he looks to the human. “Perfectly so.” Kallus reports with an easy confidence that would’ve drawn a growl from the lasat mere months ago but earns a half smirk instead.

“Don’ get too cozy, missions not over yet. Plenty a time for things to go wrong!” Zeb says teasingly, elbowing the man’s muscular bicep. “I am efficient, especially when it comes to strategic planning. As long as you follow the plan, things will go perfectly smooth.” He says confidently. It should seem smug and rather conceited but the way he states it is more like he’s simply stating a fact, sure of his capabilities.

“Do my best.” Zeb promises shortly, admiring the man’s confidence in his own abilities, even Sabine sometimes doubts her plans. They fall into silence, the lasat unconsciously fidgeting. “So, ah…how ya been?” He asks awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Kallus turns to him slowly, a confused look on his face as if he’s not sure he’d heard right. “I’m still alive so…good?” He says sounding unsure. The statement makes Zeb feel oddly sad. Like the man is merely surviving, not truly living.

The thought unsettles him making it hard for him to stifle the strange impulse to draw the man into a hug. “Oh, uh…good.” He forces his tone to sound unbothered, but his eyes lower with sadness. Kallus’ stomach clenches, feeling that he’d said something wrong that upset the lasat but can’t figure out why! Panicking slightly, he settles on the first neutral, mildly interesting topic that comes to mind.
“It still glows you know…that thing from Bahryn. Still warm.” Kallus says in a shy yet friendly tone, trying to mask his unease without hiding fully behind that mask he always wears. He wants to be genuine and open with Zeb, he’s just a little put off by the reaction his previous statement had earned.

“Took it as a souvenir, eh? Somethin’ to remember me by?” Zeb teases, earning a half smile as he good-naturedly elbows the human once again. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I want a reminder of such a delightful near-death experience.” Kallus rolls his eyes before fixing him with a sideways glance that perfectly complements his sarcastic tone. The lasat chuckles deeply, finding his dark humor rather amusing.

“Actually, I was half frozen around it by the time I was found. Couldn’t have let go of it even if I’d wanted to.” Kallus explains, emboldened enough by the laugh his sarcasm had earned to lower the mask a bit more. The thought of Kallus clinging to that rock for dear life makes Zebs ears lower a fraction, his eyes shimmering with concern. He half smiles at the human, not wanting to scare him off with a bad reaction. He rather likes it when Kallus speaks freely with him, especially considering how his voice had been suppressed for nearly 20 years!

“Yeah, human fur really doesn’t do much in that kinda weather huh?” He gently teases, grinning in an amiable way at the agent whose brows furrow. “Fur?” Kal repeats, co*cking an eyebrow and looking at him with an amused expression. “Yeah, you know the stuff on your face ‘n head.” Zeb explains mockingly after rolling his own eyes at the dullness of the intelligent man.

“Hair, Zeb. Humans don’t have fur.” Kallus explains, amusem*nt clear in his voice as he smirks at the lasat. “What’s the difference?” He argues gruffly, holding his hands out as he shrugs. “Hair is more coarse and less dense than fur.” The agent presses factually, a playful note in his tone as he watches the lasat’s unconvinced expression.

Without thinking twice about it, Zeb reaches out and touches the fur on Kallus’ cheek then touches his own to compare. “Eh, it’s not that different.” He muses, feeling his cheeks burn under his fur when he sees Kallus’ stunned expression. His heart skips a few beats, ears twitching with embarrassment as the human’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

“You two want us to leave you alone?” Sabine chides, chuckling when both men jump slightly having completely forgotten the kids were behind them. Kallus clears his throat, ignoring the comment as Zeb growls, baring his teeth over his shoulder at the giggling teens behind him. “We’re getting close.” Kallus announces seriously, glancing at the number listed on the console.

“Yeah, you are.” Ezra teases smugly, pulling a short cackle from the Mandalorian who bumps her shoulder into his. Another threatening growl rumbles in Zeb’s throat, his massive hands balling into fists with irritation. Kallus pinches the bridge of his nose against the headache already forming.

“I do need this to look…believable. If you don’t mind.” He states, choosing his words with great care to not have them twisted by the kids. He turns expectantly to Zeb, who hesitates, ears flattening down, clearly not wanting to harm the man. “We don’t have much time.” Kallus urges seriously, eyeing the number listed on the wall.

“Where do ya want it?” Zeb asks, looking over the human’s frame with hesitation and concern. “That’s a bit forward, don’t ya think?” Sabine taunts easily, a smirk in her tone. “At least buy him a drink first.” Ezra adds smugly, elbowing the Mandalorian who chuckles. Kallus rolls his eyes, feigning indifference despite the flush on his cheeks.

“Few scratches and a good hit to the solar plexus ought to do it.” Kallus states as if making dinner plans instead of requesting injuries. Zeb grits his fangs, brow furrowing with distaste. “Ya ready?” He growls quietly, sounding incredibly apologetic. “I am.” He says easily, preferring physical pain to the insistent teasing he’s sure awaits Zeb from the kids.

Hesitantly, Zeb claws the agent’s outer forearm grimacing as he draws blood. The human barely reacts though, only making a dulled sound when the lasat draws a mighty knee to his abdomen which he’s sure now holds a broken rib or two. Zeb’s large hand rests on his shoulder to keep him from stumbling back, the apologetic look on his face making the pain tolerable.

“If you don’t mind, Bridger.” Kallus says politely as the door slides open. “My pleasure.” The teen states unreservedly, in complete contrast with the reluctance of the lasat. The young jedi throws Kallus back with the force, the agent nearly losing consciousness as he collides with the metal wall at the far end of the room. He crumples to a heap, unmoving yet conscious. Zeb growls with anger at how vicious Ezra had thrown the man but can’t reprimand him with the awed captives watching.

Instead, he barrels into the room after Kallus, rummaging through his uniform to find the key to the cell and whispering ‘you, ok?’. Kallus gives him a discreet wink, still pretending to be out cold. It’s enough for Zeb to grin as he quietly says ‘sorry ‘bout that, I’ll buy ya a drink next time’. The friendly offer nearly pulls a smile from the human but the seriousness of the situation forces him to refrain.
“Make it two.” Kallus whispers making Zeb chuckle happily, thankfully just as he finds the key making it appear like he’s simply glad to have found it. “It’s a date.” He says under his breath so that only Kallus can hear. The word choice gives the human plenty to think about while pretending to be unconscious as the rebels free the captives.

“Right, you lot follow me and stay quiet!” Zeb commands, his intimidating size and demeanor instantly cowing the captives into cooperation. They follow the rebels down the small cargo hold, away from the main lift just as Kallus had advised. The agent smiles to himself, knowing there’s no way his troopers can stop them now that they’ve got such a head start And they’re as of yet undetected. He waits until an alarm pierces the silence, signaling a security breach, before pretending to come to and comm his head trooper for assistance. *******

Once the captives are fed and safely settled in the cargo bay of the Ghost, Zeb decides to head to the co*ckpit to debrief Hera on all that happened within the cruiser. His mind roams back to the agent he’d left crumpled on the cold floor, alone and no doubt in pain, his stomach twisting with guilt. Only months ago, such a sight would have brought him unbridled delight! But now it just saddens him, wanting to scoop the human up and tell him he’s done good.

He's startled to find he’s already at the co*ckpit, the door sliding open to reveal his family all looking at him with various degrees of interest. “Captives are settled. They’re shaken but most are interested in joinin’ us. Gonna have to make runs to retrieve their families though.” He reports, hoping that tedious task will fall to another rebel cell. They don’t really have the time or resources to carry out such a painstaking endeavor.

“Thank you, Zeb. You did a good job today.” Hera says kindly, her motherly voice always soothing after a mission, even one as seamlessly easy as today’s. “Figure’d I’d come debrief.” He adds, getting the feeling something is off as the kids stifle a snicker. “Eh don’t think the one you wanna debrief is here.” Ezra mocks, laughing at his own taunt as Sabine low fives him. One of his ears twitch upward, relaying his confusion. Hera shoots the teen a sharp, reproving look before turning back to the lasat.

“Sabine and Ezra already told me all the details of what happened.” She explains, something in her expression further confusing him. “They never debrief. What gives?” He growls irritably, for the kids to volunteer to do something usually means they’re up to something, which typically isn’t good for him. “It’s ok big guy, we told Hera aaaall about your boyfriend And how soft his fur apparently is.” Sabine taunts playfully, her eyes shimmering with glee as her smile broadens, Ezra holding his stomach as he snorts with laughter.

Zeb’s face falls along with his ears and shoulders as it hits him…the lift…when he’d touched Kallus’ fur. A deep growl rumbles in his throat as his massive hands ball into fists, that only make the kids laugh harder. “It’s not like that!” He fumes through bared fangs, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment and thanking the ashla his fur is thick enough to cover it. To his surprise, Hera remains quiet, searching his face with an unreadable expression as the kids rapid fire taunt him.

“If we’d have known how much you liked him, we could’ve brought him back for you Zeb.” Ezra smirks, finding it hilarious how Zeb’s expression twists with anger.

“Ezra, did you see his face when you threw Kallus out of the lift? Big guy you were about to end him! Yeah, that’s the look!” Sabine adds, pointing toward the lasat’s face which twitches with irritation.
“Well, you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Ezra chides, clasping his hands together under his cheek and making puppydog eyes at his roommate.

“Good thing he has that ‘souvenir’ to remember you by.” Sabine taunts, finding the statement Zeb uttered so freely earlier absolutely hilarious. “mwwaap mwap mwwaap mwaap mwap.” Chop drones, uttering something in binary Zeb can’t understand but makes the kids double over laughing.

“So, guess we know what really happened on that ice moon now.” Ezra taunts, his smug expression and victorious wink finally pushing Zeb to his breaking point. He takes a deep breath in, readying himself to pounce on the irritating teen and droid by punching his own fist. “Ok everyone, that’s enough! You two had your fun, now drop it, that’s an Order! I won’t have a fight breaking out in my co*ckpit.” Hera commands authoritatively, earning a deflated look of thanks from the lasat.

Zeb growls his frustration out as he slumps into the empty chair in the back row, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest as he shoots a threatening glare at the teenage boy beside him, daring him to say another word. They fall into a tense silence, watching the stars streak by as they enter hyperspace. Sabine’s slender fingers tap a few buttons on the console and suddenly a mellow, romantic sounding tune begins to play.

The lasat’s brows furrow, his frown deepening as the song continues. But the little Mandalorian stays perfectly neutral, so perhaps it isn’t another joke at his expense. His ears lower with his expression as the main chorus blares ‘Uuuuunbreeeeeak my heeeearrrrt, say you’ll love me agaaaaaaain’. The kids break down in laughter, even Hera is unable to fully stifle a snicker. Zeb snarls as he exits the co*ckpit, suddenly needing a lot of distance between him and his family.

He jabs the button to his room, closing and locking the door without any sympathy for his irritating roommate. Sighing heavily, he grabs a cup and the bottle of whisky he’s been slowly nursing the last few months, settling at the small table in the room. In his frustration, he downs the first drink a bit quicker than intended, his family’s taunting repeating in his mind. ‘It isn’t like that’ he assures himself again and again, each time feeling a bit less convinced somehow.

Pouring another glass, he mulls the mission over, how he truly had forgotten the kids were even in the lift once he and Kallus started talking. Not because he’s smitten with the human, he assures himself. Rather, because it’s so easy to talk to Kallus once he’s dropped that mask of his. And he likes it when he does! Likes who he sees underneath it. He’s witty and sarcastic, dry, and awkward at times, somber and broken at others. He’s complicated and interesting, just like their relationship.

A strange longing tugs at his heart, wishing the human were here which he rationalizes is because it’s rather sad to drink alone. He imagines the expression the man would make upon entering the small bunk, how those golden eyes would scan over the posters hung around, probably scowl at the mess Ezra constantly leaves about. Surely, Kallus would be a very tidy man, perhaps too tidy.

The whisky warms his belly, making him feel cozy as he thinks about the human. The feeling of his fur still lingering on his claws, a bit coarser than his own but still rather soft. Would the fur on the top of his head feel the same? Does it grow all over like Zeb’s? He’d never seen he human fully nude before but from what he has seen, there should be fur on his arms, legs, and chest. He shakes his head, reprimanding himself for thinking about such inappropriate things!

It feels as though a furnace had appeared within his stomach, warmth raging through his belly as his mind recalls the image of the human in the shower. The clouded glass barely concealing his alluring, muscular frame, each movement sent thrills through him, finding new angles to admire the man’s attractive physique. Just as he had that night, he feels his body begin the unsheathing process, the warmth and wetness below threatening to become unmanageable if his thoughts don’t move to something grotesque instead. He quickly conjures up the most disgusting memory he can think of, letting the sickening feeling counteract the apparent effect naked human males have on him.

‘Karabast! How long has it been?’ He thinks in shock, mulling the question over and finding that it had in fact been a very long time since he last had a partner. That’s all it is then! Just pent up unrealized sexual frustration making his body react strongly to any alluring frame it sees. He’s not in love with Kallus. The thought makes him sad which completely confuses him. As if he’s betraying the human. But that’s nonsense. There’s no way that Kallus would be disappointed if he didn’t harbor those sorts of feelings for him…would he?

A soft knock on the door pulls him from his frazzled thoughts, making his fur stand on end at the sudden unexpected sound. “Go ‘way kid!” He barks brusquely, draining what’s left in his glass as he stubbornly remains in his seat, ignoring the teen. “It’s me.” Hera’s gentle voice calls through the door. Zeb’s large eyes widen, with realization, jumping up to give the ship’s captain access to the bunk she allows him to use.

“Hey, Hera, sorry ‘bout that! Thought you were the kid.” He stammers uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck as he makes way for her to enter. “I figured as much.” She teases, a kind smirk on her face as she sits at the small table. “Ya want one?” Zeb offers, nodding to the bottle, brows raising when she accepts; she rarely indulges and never during a mission! Something must be bothering her. He pours them both a glass and settles at the table, silence coming over the room as they sip their drinks.

“I’m sorry about the kids. I didn’t think they’d get to you that easily.” Hera finally says, regret thick in her gentle voice. “It’s ok. Just been a stressful few months. Nerves are a bit shot lately.” Zeb half lies, shrugging for good measure. “Yes, it has.” Hera agrees darkly, a haunted look crossing over her fair features before she takes another sip. “Well, I’ve got them cleaning up the phantom’s fuel line as punishment. Told them to lay off the boyfriend jokes for a while.” She states casually, stealing a sideways glance at her friend to see his reaction.

“Ya didn’t have to do that.” Zeb says, feeling a bit sorry for the kids. “They’ve been stressed too. Just tryin’ to blow off a little steam.” He adds, his protective nature overwhelming the kids’ previous offenses. “There’s a line and they crossed it…obviously.” Hera reasons, gently poking at what she really wants to speak about but Zeb refuses to bite, not knowing his own feelings himself.

“So, uh…where’re we takin’ the engineers?” He asks instead, steering the subject away from boyfriends and agents. Hera’s green eyes study his face, reading something he’s not privy to. “We’re bringing them to General Sato’s cruiser. He’ll be able to take it from there.” She states, mirroring the relief Zeb feels. “Good. We ain’t got the time for all that.” Zeb agrees, nodding absently as his mind wanders back to those golden eyes.

“Kallus really came through for us today.” She states cautiously, watching his reaction closely as she takes another sip from her glass. “Yeah. Told ya we can trust ‘em now.” The confidence in the lasat’s tone, worrying the twi’lek along with his carefree ease regarding the agent. “It would appear so.” She says tentatively, still skeptical of the man, especially seeing how her friend has so easily accepted him, embraced him even. The warm look that crosses his face as he nods coupled with the soft smile lingering on his lips since the man’s name was uttered making her stomach twist with fret.

“Zeb…I’m sorry but I have to ask; what’s going on between you and Kallus?” Hera finally asks, unable to hold her concern in any longer. “The kids said you were talking like old friends and…caressing him. What’s going on?” She adds in a hurry, her heart clenching with the affronted look on the lasat’s face. Zeb tears his gaze from hers, ears flatten as he takes another long sip of the warm liquid. He sighs heavily before looking back to his friend, vulnerability written on his features.

“I don’t know, I just…just like him, you know, he’s actually pretty funny…awkward at times but that’s cause he’s not properly socializing in 20 years. Guess I feel bad for him ‘bout that too. He wants to open up, wants to be I don’t know…connected…to others. When I was friendly to him on Bahryn, it was the first time anyone’d been kind to him for more ‘an half his life!” He explains messily, trying to navigate his own feelings to make sense of it all.

“He’s tryin’ to do good but with how he has to do it…he’s isolated. He’s a human, you know they’re real social creatures. He wants to be connected but he’s all alone behind enemy lines with the people he’s helping still thinkin’ he’s against them. I just feel…bad for him. He’s a good guy and I like him! Want him to know he’s not alone, ya know? So, when I do see him, I try to be friendly with him, give him a bit of what he needs, help him get by until the next time I can see him.” He explains, feeling overly exposed under Hera’s knowing look. He rests one massive arm before him on the table, crossed before his body as if to protect himself.

“That’s very noble of you, Zeb.” She says warmly, affection and pride in her voice as she squeezes his massive forearm. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” She adds carefully, not wanting to upset the hot tempered lasat. His brow furrows, ears flattening slightly at her words. “I know and I know I should be cautious with him but my gut tells me he’s changed and with all he’s been doin’ I think he’s proved it. He’s not a danger to me, to us. I know it.” He says confidently, meeting Hera’s gaze with a firm look of determination. The twi’lek smiles softly at her companion, raising her glass a bit. “To new friends.” She toasts, tapping her glass on his before emptying the contents.

“Alright, I’ll let you get some rest. Thank you for the drink.” She says gently, standing and squeezing his shoulder in a friendly way. “Any time.” His gruff voice is filled with kindness and affection, smiling as she leaves the room. He sighs heavily, feeling better for voicing his thoughts and feelings toward the human. A loud yawn overtakes him, suddenly becoming painfully aware of how tired he really is.

He stretches his arms overhead then climbs into his bunk, thoughts drifting to the lone agent so far away, wondering if the touch- and affection-deprived human would want to share his bunk. He seems to like it when Zeb touches him and it’d been a long time since he’d slept with a friend tucked beside him, well other than Sabine who occasionally sneaks in on particularly cold nights. But her tiny frame doesn’t do much to comfort him, not in the way the large muscular human would. He curls into himself, massive arms wrapping around his midsection while imagining the human resting in his arms against him, the weight of his body a comfort, pinning him down and keeping him grounded. The image brings a smile to his face as he drifts to sleep.

Chapter 8: Twisted Relations

Chapter Text

“Sorry about last night, Zeb. We were just having fun.” Sabine says calmly, the words kind yet void of any real guilt, letting the lasat know he’s not out of the clear yet…only safe when Hera is present which she currently is not. He sighs as he walks down the long corridor of General Sato’s ship, bracing himself for the barrage of taunts the kids are surely going to bombard him with.

“Yeah, we know you’re not a fairy type guy.” Ezra adds smugly, elbowing Zeb’s massive arm and receiving an unamused snarl. It’s too early in the rotation for him to deal with the kid. “Fairy type?” Sabine repeats the word with distaste, eyebrow lifting as her expression sours. “Yeah, you know, feminine guys who like other guys. Fairies.” He explains flatly as if it were common knowledge. “Ezra, not all gay men are feminine.” She reprimands firmly, finding his narrow-minded opinion quite grating, people are way more complex!

“Yeah, they are, that’s why they’re attracted to other men. So, they can feel protected.” He argues, pulling a long irritable sigh from the Mandalorian who plants her face into her palm. “Ezra, no. Just, stop talking. You don’t know anything.” She snaps tiredly, waving him away as she continues down the hallway. “What? That’s what people say!” Ezra counters weakly, shrugging as he follows his crewmates.
“Ignorant people! I’ve met many gay men that are as manly as they come. They like men simply because they like men.” Sabine retorts roughly, giving him a pointed look that tells him just how wrong he is. The teen’s face screws for a moment as he considers the unexpected turn in conversation. “Sooooo you’re saying Zeb might actually be a fairy?” He pivots playfully, earning a low growl from the lasat and a tired eyeroll from the Mandalorian. “I’m saying…well…yeah I guess I am saying that.” She agrees flatly, snickering as Zeb’s ears twitch with irritation.

“Shove it kid, ‘less you wanna be broke in two. Not in the mood for it today.” He growls brusquely, giving him fair warning of his extra short temper today. Ezra shrugs it off with ease, deciding it safest to let the man be for now. He’s got plenty of other puns waiting in reserve for when his mood has improved.

“So, women who like other women aren’t always…manly then?” He asks instead, finding the subject interesting. “What would you think if I told you I like girls?” Sabine answers smoothly, her expression unreadable leaving Ezra floundering in flustered shock. Sabine and Zeb both laugh conspiratorially as she good-naturedly elbows his massive arm. Ezra sneers at the pair of them, not liking being on the receiving end.

“Very funny.” He chides, shaking his head and following them down the seemingly never-ending hallway. After a few long moments, Ezra can’t help but pry. “Wait, so were you just kidding or…” He asks curiously, studying her expression for an answer but only getting an eyeroll. “None of your business Ezra.” Sabine breathes as if exhausted, shaking her head. “Wait so you do!?” He gushes eagerly, thinking it’d be cool if they both liked girls. “Ugh.” She growls, wishing she hadn’t said anything after all.

“What, don’t wanna talk ‘bout your girlfriend?” Zeb teases, his ears fluttering as he smirks at her, happy for a bit of revenge. “Ugh, you know as well as anyone that I’m not seeing anyone.” Sabine growls at the lasat. “I don’ know ‘bout that. If I apparently have a secret boyfriend I’m sure you’d be able to hide a secret girlfriend.” Zeb taunts, finding it surprisingly easy to hint at himself having a male partner.
“Yeah, yours isn’t really a secret there big guy.” Ezra teases happily. “You an that Katsu are real close. She’s a pretty one too, ain’t she?” Zeb presses, completely ignoring the young jedi in order to seize the opportunity for a little payback. “Zeb, that’s gross! She’s like my sister!” Sabine reprimands quickly, looking repulsed by the notion. He shrugs casually at her, feigning indifference.

“Ok kids, reel it back. Play time is over.” Hera chides firmly from the end of the hallway where she waits for them to meet her, hands at her hips. Zeb punches Ezra’s shoulder just for the effect, grinning as Hera rolls her eyes at his childish antics, a small smile tugging on her lips as she looks at them. “You know I’m 15 standard years older ‘en you, right?” He asks playfully, finding it humorous how she’s assumed a mother role to him despite being many years younger.

“You certainly don’t act like it.” She chides affectionately, giving him a knowing look before turning to lead them into Sato’s command center. “General Sato’s ready for us. Let’s not keep him waiting.” She adds seriously, taking quick strides down the hallway. They silently follow their captain, each putting on a serious expression that would make her proud.

“General Sato.” She greets dutifully, nodding at the stoic man as she leads her crew into the large room, stopping before the command holocenter. “Captain Syndulla, I’m glad to see you all back safe. I hear the mission was a resounding success. Congratulations.” He says firmly, his posture as rigid as his demeanor.

“Yes sir, for once, everything went smoothly. I guess we have Fulcrum to thank for that.” Hera adds, the warmth in her tone not going unnoticed especially by Zeb whose ears flutter in surprise. “Mn indeed. That is actually one of the things I wanted to speak with you about.” Sato states, getting right to business as always, his expression unreadable. “Sir? Is everything alright?” She asks, stomach dropping with worry. Had Kallus’ help in the mission been noticed? Had they put him in danger by accepting his aid?

“Nothing to worry about! Our Fulcrum agent has personally secured a safe method to transmit intel to us directly. I have a team busy working to utilize the intel he’s already sent, however, there is one mission he requested your help with.” Sato adds, looking even more serious than usual. Zeb’s stomach does odd things with the information, feeling both terribly sad there’s no need for personal drop offs yet happy that Kallus no longer has to add that to the numerous risks he’s taking.

“Yes sir, we’re happy to help.” Hera agrees immediately, relieved that their Fulcrum agent hadn’t been compromised, and impressed that he’d somehow found a secure transmission method. He’s quite a clever human. “You should hear the mission first.” Sato states, a lightly reprimanding note to his tepid tone. “Fulcrum sent an urgent transmission requesting an extraction that might be rather difficult.” He explains flatly, earning mixed reactions from the crew. Hera’s brows furrow with worry, is this a trap Kallus is luring them into after gaining their trust?

“Fulcrum wants us to extract him??” Zeb interjects, his ears twitching with eagerness at the idea. His tone makes Hera’s stomach drop, knowing that he’s already in deep and is clueless to it! If Kallus really is playing a long game, then her friend is bound to be hurt badly! Sato gives the lasat a calculated look, finding his enthusiasm a bit strange. “Fulcrum isn’t requesting a personal extraction. Rather, there is an ISB agent named Swain that attempted to defect a while ago. She is being transported to a facility for termination. Fulcrum believes she would be of tremendous use for the rebellion if she decides to join us.”

“I see. What are the chances this agent won’t decide to join?” Hera asks skeptically, not wanting to put her family in harm’s way for nothing. “We won’t know until we have her aboard. But in my opinion, if she had the resolve to get through ISB training, she’ll be a great asset, especially now that she’s been burned by the Empire. ISB agents have fiery resolve and fierce determination. She could help us deal mighty blows to the Empire.” Sato explains, a passion in his eyes that is in stark contrast with his disciplined demeanor.

“Ok. Well, that’s settled then. We can leave as soon as our supplies have been restocked.” Hera says firmly, finding his confidence contagious.

“My people are already on it, Captain. The transmission and all the intel you need for the extraction is on this data stick. Fulcrum was extremely thorough.” Sato says with a tone of respect and pride, delighted to have an efficient and detail-oriented asset working for the rebellion.

Hera takes the data stick from the General, nodding respectfully before turning on her heel to lead her crew back to the Ghost. ********

The extraction did go smoothly, until it didn’t. Ezra’s jedi mind tricks worked perfectly on the feeble-minded guards but the half dozen assassin droids called when the teen ran directly into one, weren’t so easily swayed. But through sheer stubbornness of will, hard earned skill, and no short supply of luck, they’d managed to get the ISB defector out in one piece. The Ghost Crew holding their breathes as their captain safely enters hyperspace, the stars blurring around them.

It's a few long moments before they start to settle, beginning to decompress from the close call. “Ezra, this was your mission. What happened?” Hera asks firmly, the reprimand in her look making the teen instantly defensive. The offended look on Ezra’s face as he crosses his arms over his chest ensuring the crew they’re in for yet another outburst. “Wasn’t my fault! Those assassin droids weren’t supposed to be there! Fulcrum didn’t mention anything about them so how was I supposed to know? It’s his fault!” He snaps with irritation, the statement making Zeb’s fur stand on end.

“Can’t blame him when you were the one who ran right into it!” He growls angrily, glaring down at the disgruntled teen who all but snarls at him. “Doesn’t matter if there is missing intel, we always have to be ready for the unexpected. You know that.” Hera presses firmly, her tone kind yet strict. “Guess I should expect a kriffin sith lord with a pet puffer pig to be on every cruiser too. Unexpected enough?” He taunts irritably, rolling his eyes and avoiding the twi’lek’s stern look. Hera’s about to reprimand the teen for the attitude but suddenly remembers the guest present and ignored.

“Who are you people?” Swain demands as she eyes them with suspicion, her body tensing as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. Her bruised and battered fingers digging into the tattered cloth of her pants atop her thighs, the black eye she’s sporting looking rather painful.

“The people who rescued you, you’re welcome.” Ezra snaps and rolls his eyes, irritated that his mission had gone sideways because of a stupid droid. Hera grimaces at the teen’s brusque manner, frowning as it only further riles up the clearly on-edge woman. “Obviously, but why? I don’t know you. I’m not worth anything to anyone. Why save me?” Swain asks bluntly, drawing physically away from the crew around the co*ckpit, the note of panic in her tone making Zeb’s ears lower with sympathy.

“We are the Ghost Crew. We’re a rebel cell that’s part of the bigger rebellion. One of our imperial spies notified us that you tried to defect a while ago and were being transferred for execution. They urged us to extract you, said that you might be interested in joining us.” Hera explains in a soft yet firm tone, turning to face the woman, to appear more personable. “We aren’t going to harm you in any way. You’re safe now.” She adds gently, her brilliant green eyes full of maternal caring.

Swain pulls her gaze from the gracious twi’lek, afraid the kindness there might ease her into trusting them, leaving her vulnerable for when they lash out or attack her. No one can be trusted; that much she’d learned while imprisoned by the Empire she’d so loyally served. Instead, she pulls her limbs in close, her muscles tensing almost painfully. The woman is so obviously terrified and it’s all Zeb can do not to pull her into a hug to try to soothe her, remembering what Kallus had told him about relations in the Empire. The poor thing would probably have a conniption fit if he were to do that!

Her eyes roam across the cold metal floor, twitching side to side as she works through her panic-riddled thoughts. “You have an imperial spy? They must be high level ISB to know where I was being transferred to. I don’t believe you. No ISB agent would betray their precious Empire.” She states firmly, unrelenting in her suspicions. Her arms cross over her chest, both trying to appear in control and protect her vulnerable abdomen from attack.

“You’d be surprised.” Zeb grunts, laughing darkly at the thought of how Kallus betrayed his precious Empire. “Uh, you defected.” Ezra states in a taunting way, earning a rough lasat punch to the bicep, Zeb growling at the disrespectful teen. “What??” He snaps, rubbing his sore arm and scowling at the massive lasat towering over him.

“Even if you somehow did have an ISB spy, not one of them would care about my life.” She counters seriously, believing without a shred of doubt in her own words. Her eyes dart to the Mandalorian who removes her helmet, Swain bracing for an attack that never comes. Instead, the bright-haired young lady smiles warmly at her, trying to put her at ease.

“Maybe they felt bad you got caught doing what they’re doing. They defected too.” Sabine offers wisely, shrugging at the woman whose only a few years older than herself, maybe mid-twenties. The grateful smile on Zeb’s face pulls an equally warm smirk from the Mandalorian, knowing how much it means to him for his family to accept Kallus. “I didn’t turn spy, I tried to run.” Swain counters a bit more softly than before, shaking her head.

“Who cares about their reason, they warned us about you, and we acted on their transmission.” Ezra says dismissively, too caught up in his own frustrations to even register Swain’s. “Ezra.” Hera hisses firmly, shooting a pointed look to the belligerent teen who rolls his eyes but begrudgingly submits. Whatever has been going on with him is driving her up the wall lately, it’s like he’s a totally different person these days! Far too hot-tempered and easily provoked, prone to sudden outbursts. If only Kanan were here to reason with him.

“I want to see it. The transmission, I want to see it.” Swain demands suddenly, her firm voice wavering slightly, a note of desperation that makes Hera’s heart ache. Ezra finally turns to the woman, seeing her distraught, panicked expression and instantly feeling painfully guilty for being so brash with her. His bright blue eyes dull as they lower, reprimanding himself harshly for acting so mean.

“Ok, if it will put your mind at ease.” Hera says gently, her compassionate look making the ex-agent soften ever so slightly. Whatever they did to this woman must have been awful for her to be acting like a caged animal, ready to be beaten at any moment. “Can I get you anything? Water? Rations bar?” Sabine asks kindly, noticing the slight trembling of Swain’s hands. “No. Thank you.” She says curtly, as if the offer’s a trap that she’s not keen on falling into. Hera turns back to the console, tapping a few buttons before the Fulcrum symbol lights up, the encrypted voice echoing through the small room.
As he listens to the message, Zeb’s ears flicker slightly, the way they do when he’s happy, catching the Mandalorian’s interest. “Again.” Swain demands as the transmission ends, a slightly unhinged look in her eyes as she stares at the white symbol circulating. They listen to it not once, but four more times, each round making the crew believe a bit more firmly that their guest has indeed lost her mind. Fully expecting her to demand another listen, they hesitate after the transmission ends, looking toward the woman and hoping she’s satisfied.

“Kallus is your spy?” She more states than asks, her voice as distant and haunted as her pale expression. Zeb’s ears flatten against his skull, eyes widening with fear as they meet Hera’s, finding that same look of dread. If she knows he’s a spy, it could cost him his life if she utters even a word of it to Anyone!! Sabine breathes a soft, casual laugh, pretending to find her statement funny. “Agent Kallus? Not a chance! He’s been chasing us for over a year, if anyone’s got it out for us, it’s him!” She half lies quite convincingly.

“Don’t try to lie to me, I’d recognize that voice anywhere even if it is masked.” She says a bit spitefully, her expression going frigid as she glares at the young Mandalorian. “You know him?” Ezra asks softly, hoping to back-track from earlier. Swain stares at him firmly, an odd look in her eye, her vision glazing over as she turns her gaze to the stars blurring past.

“That’s an understatement. He was my ISB mentor. I shadowed him, trained with him every day. He was unlike the rest of my teachers. He wanted me to understand not just memorize, wanted me to not just succeed but excel, wanted to protect me, wanted me to learn. Every mistake I made; he’d take the time to fully explain why it was wrong. If it were bad enough that it had to be reported, he’d spin it in a way that wouldn’t ruin my career. He cared deeply. Even took a shot for me, saved my life. For over a year, he poured so much effort into my training, teaching me everything he knew. He was…he was incredible.” She says, her look tender yet deeply haunted.

The crew exchange uneasy looks, no one having expected this turn, nor the loving sentiments from their guest toward the man who’d literally hunted them for so long. The twi’lek looks to Zeb with a strangely sorrowful look in her eyes that makes his already knotting stomach twist more painfully. Her words are positive, bringing Kallus into a stunning new light yet the way she says it is unsettling to him for some reason.

“You loved him.” Hera says gently, noticing the lingering affection in her tone and in her eyes. The statement makes the fur on Zeb’s body rise as it does when he or his loved ones are being threatened, which shocks him just as much as the growl he barely suppresses. “Yes. Despite the Empire discouraging relations, he…he was like an older brother to me. Protective, supportive, caring. He was the closest thing to family I had.” The words hit Zeb like a train, making his cheeks burn with embarrassment over the sudden emotions he’d just experienced. He’ll have to work through that one later when he’s alone.

Picking up on her intense pain through the force, Ezra’s face softens greatly, his voice lowering as he asks her ‘what happened?’.

“When I tried to defect, he hunted me down.” The statement makes everyone freeze, the truth too ugly and painful, ushering in a stunned silence. The blood in their veins all freezing over with the information. The man they were all trying to trust…hunted down and imprisoned someone who’d considered him family?! Ezra blinks a few times, his mind reeling as it tries to make sense of it. “He could’ve let me go if he truly cared. Obviously, he didn’t, it was all an act. If he’d had a heart, he wouldn’t have let me rot in jail.” Swain adds, the resentment in her voice mirroring the tears in her eyes.
The bitter words uttered with such spite makes Zeb’s fur raise, his stomach dropping painfully at the thought. Would Kallus do the same to him? Did he really know the man at all? If he could betray someone he’d been so close to for over a year without a second thought, what would he do to him or his family? The thoughts make his stomach churn, feeling something isn’t right with this line of reason. His gut revolts against it, telling him that Kallus would never do that to him! He’d saved his life on Bahryn after all! And they’d been enemies back then.

“He’s also the reason you’re alive now.” Ezra counteracts gently, thoroughly shocking the woman whose glistening eyes snap to him. Zeb’s eyes grow wider as he looks to the teen, his spiraling mind focusing on him like a lifeline.

“If he meant that much to you, then I’m sure you meant a lot to him too. But he was insanely loyal to the Empire, so having you turn your back on it must’ve felt like you turning your back on him. I’m sure it killed him to catch you. And I’m not defending him, he was wrong to do it! But if you think about it from what his perspective was…it must have felt like betrayal just as much as it did to you.” Ezra reasons gently, his compassion always stunning to behold. Zeb blinks dumbly at the kid, too shocked by his suddenly wise input to react despite the warmth spreading in his chest.

“He had to have been keeping tabs on what the Empire was doing with you since you were taken in, how else would he have known the moment they moved you? And I don’t know about you, but that transmission sounded desperate to me, which means he was desperate for us to take the only chance we’d get to get you out safely. If he didn’t care, why send us to rescue you?” Hera adds gently, fighting the urge to squeeze Swain’s hand in a gesture of comfort as the bruises there might make it painful. “Ezra’s right, it’s not that he doesn’t care about you, it’s that he saw your defection as betrayal not just to the Empire but to him.”

“He imprisoned me. Left me. Let the Empire torture me for over a year. Now he won’t even let me hate him for it.” She seethes tearfully, sounding thoroughly exhausted. Silence hangs heavy in the co*ckpit, no one knowing what to say to the broken woman. “Come on, I’ll bring you to the medic bay. Let’s patch you up and get you something to eat.” Sabine urges gently, breathing a sigh of relief when the woman obediently complies, looking sickly and defeated.

Once the two disappear down the hall, the twi’lek turns to the teen, her expression soft. “Ezra, you did good. It’s just a lot for her to process all at once. Give her time.” Hera says encouragingly to the disheartened teen. “Yeah…if it were Kanan she’d probably be alright now.” He sulks, the thought of his missing mentor weighing heavily on his heart. “If Kanan were here he’d probably have made her more upset, he can be quite careless when it comes to women’s emotions.” Hera jokes, pulling a sullen smile from the young jedi. *****

As soon as the door to his quarters slides shut behind him, his face releases the rigidity it’d been holding all rotation, an urgency in his golden eyes as he dives for the data pad tucked away safely in a compartment under his bed. Heart pounding in his chest as his stomach knots painfully with apprehension as he sits on the firm mattress scanning the intel crowding the screen, too worried to appreciate his own genius. The program he’d modified providing him secret access to all the movements, warnings, updates, and transmissions from the last rotation of all Imperial ships, transports, and bases within the sector.

Most of the intel is useless, however, a security breach report catches his frantic eye, breath escaping him as he confirms the transport and missing prisoner. Golden eyes fill with tears, head lowering as he leans his forearms against his knees, curling into himself as guilt and relief mix together. ‘She’s safe. They got her out. Zeb got her out.’ He assures himself, the outcome too good to believe. She’s safe, out of the clutches of the Empire with the most trustworthy rebel cell in the entire galaxy.

No one he’d trust more to safely transport the only being he considers family. The being he’d personally hunted down and imprisoned. He grimaces against the tears that he can’t hold back, burying his face in his hands. There’s not a chance in the galaxy that she’ll ever forgive him even if she learns it was him who’d sent the rebels to her aide. He never expected her to forgive him, knows he’ll never be able to!

Losing his family when he was only 12 had destroyed him, leaving him broken and lost, even compelled him into the arms of the Empire. Losing Swain when she’d defected had torn the heart right from his chest, making him emotionally reclusive, withdrawing from all beings, too afraid to connect lest they betray him as well. It hurts too greatly to lose someone who means so much to you. And now that wound feels as if it’s festered after being neglected for so long, the pain he’d ignored rising to the surface, demanding to be seen.

Only this time, he knows he was the one who’d wronged her. There’s no longer the lie of the ‘greater good’ or a sense of noble justice to excuse his actions and shield him from the burden of guilt. There’s only the hideous truth of what he’d done. Bile rises to his throat, his stomach churning with disgust. Thankfully, he’d been too distraught to eat that rotation otherwise it’d all be coming up now. He sits up, looking upward at the overhead lights on the ceiling, willing his body to calm despite the emotions swirling in his chest. ‘She’s safe. Free from the Empire, safe from me. That’s what matters.’ He assures himself, his heart clenching tightly so as not to break yet again. *****

A low, tired growl rumbles in his throat as the teen above him tosses and turns, the rustling keeping him from the sleep he so desperately needs. The movement in the bunk above ceases for a moment at the noise, the blue haired head popping down to peek at his roommate. “Zeb, you awake?” He hisses quietly, ready to withdraw if the hot tempered lasat decides to take a swing at him.

A deeper growl rumbles in his throat as he begrudgingly opens his eyes to shoot a disgruntled look at the teen, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking intimidatingly irritated. Most beings would withdraw but the kid’s seen him many times in such a state without being harmed, so he accepts it as an invitation to keep talking.

“I keep thinking about Swain and Kallus. It’s so messed up.” He admits, the unease in his voice along with the mention of the agent making Zeb’s irritation fade. It’d been days since they’d delivered Swain to General Sato, her determination to bring the Empire down shocking everyone. After mere hours of resting and recuperating in the med bay, she’d returned to the co*ckpit with the most fierce and stubborn demeanor that reminded Zeb of a particular human whom he’s sure instilled that resiliency and drive into his protege. The thought makes him both smirk and frown, still feeling unsettled with the subject as well.

“It’s a nasty business, but at the end a the day it’s the Empire’s fault their relationship got ruined so bad.” Zeb states, finding yet another reason to hate the Empire. “Yeah, but if it were me in either of their shoes, I don’t think I’d be giving all the blame to the Empire.” Ezra says grimly, feeling awful as he tries to imagine being in such a nasty position. “Don’t think Kal’s even thought to. Not the type to put blame on others. He’ll shoulder it alone, probably beat himself up ‘bout it more’n he should.” Zeb states sadly, his ears lowering at the thought of the poor man.

“Can’t imagine how bad he must feel. Putting her through all that then realizing she was right all along.” Ezra adds empathetically, brows furrowing as he grimaces. “One more thing to feel guilty ‘bout. Poor guy’s got the heaviest conscience I’ve ever seen.” Zeb shakes his head slowly, the heart in his broad chest feeling heavy for the human trying so hard to do good. The young jedi’s brilliant blue eyes peer at him through the darkness, considering his words.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Don’t know how he handles it all.” He says thoughtfully, entertaining for the first time what the rigid and seemingly impermeable agent might be going through. He hadn’t really considered the guilt that goes along with defection nor the fact that the stoic man has feelings. His stomach clenches uncomfortably when he tries to imagine what he’d feel like if he found the Empire was the good guys after all, all the things he’d done, all the troopers he’s hurt, killed even. Zeb’s deep voice, rough with sleep tears him from the painful thought.

“Guess he lets it fuel him, makes him keep doing what he’s doing. To make up in part for what he’s done.” The notion makes sense to the young man who nods in understanding, a complex expression on his face. “Sato said the intel he’s given is the best we’ve ever received from a fulcrum agent. He’s doin us a lotta good.” Zeb drawls, a note almost like pride in his gruff tone.

“Must be lonely, though. Being a spy.” Ezra states, unsure whether he’d be able to do such a thing without the support and comfort of his family around him. Would he be able to do what he’s doing now without his family? The thought makes him wonder, feeling unhappy with the notion.

“Yeah, ‘t’s why I’m friendly with em when we see him. Let him know he’s got a friend in the galaxy who’ll have his back.” Zeb explains easily, the truth much more complex than the simple statement but he’s not going to offer the kid more ammo for the relentless boyfriend taunts he and Sabine find so amusing.

“Really?!” The teen breathes incredulously, eyes wide as his brows shoot up. “Yeah! Why?” The lasat counters firmly, muscles bracing slightly for whatever taunt the kid might be forming.

“Zeb, he was your rival! You wanted him dead! He almost killed you, remember? I literally saved your life from him!” Ezra says smugly, earning a low threatening growl from his roommate. “Told ya never to talk ‘bout that again!” He reprimands gruffly, fur ruffling with irritation as if it’d been physically rubbed the wrong way.

“Yeah, but still! You were enemies for over a year! You hated each other just months ago. You really are friends with him now?” Ezra counters, ignoring the lasat’s disgruntled glare. “I am. We got to know each other a bit, realized neither of us had it right. Got more’n common than we’d thought. He’s a bit odd an dry, but a good man, got his principles.” He argues sternly, standing his ground on the subject. The young jedi studies his expression for a few long moments before finally asking. “You really trust him?”

“I do. Trust him with my life.” Zeb answers quickly, the sincere and serious tone surprising the teen who merely nods, deep in thought. The sound of the door sliding open startles them both, easing as they see Sabine’s slender form entering the room. Without a word, she quietly sneaks into Zeb’s bunk, settling gently against his side as her small arm rests on his belly. He sighs as he wraps his large arm around the small human, holding her close, his soft fur and warmth comforting her from what he knows was yet another nightmare that she’ll refuse to speak of. Ezra smiles sadly at them before returning to his own bunk, head still full of thoughts. ******

Chapter 9: First Time

Chapter Text

Heart pounding so painfully in his tightened chest that he can hear it’s frantic beating in his ears drowning out the silence of the dimly lit room he’s pacing. His stomach twists with self-doubt and shame but overwhelming desire drowns it out, overpowering in its relentless nagging. 8 years in the Empire and he’s only now giving in, renting the room to stifle the intense need to feel another’s body against his own. The thought makes his muscles tighten with nerves. He’s never done such a thing before, well not willingly, nor with a man, nor with a stranger.

Only his superior who’d ordered him to disrobe before she rode him in her office had ever touched him in such a way, seen his naked body. The memory makes his stomach clench, finding it both repulsing and mildly arousing. The sheer novelty of having another’s hand around his member, of being inside that warm body was enough to bring him to org*sm despite not finding the woman attractive. Not to her discredit, she in truth was quite beautiful it’s just that he hadn’t ever found women arousing. Not even the human males in the Empire could make him excited which is why it’d taken him so long to realize that he is in fact a deeply erotic being.

He’d just not been around the type of beings that could get him flustered. The one thing that he doesn’t understand about Imperial dogma is the belief of human superiority. There are so many beings in the galaxy that are both physically and mentally superior than humans, the latter being what really entices the young agent. It was only recently that he’d discovered his own sexual preference after witnessing the brute strength of a gigantic Zygerrian hurling an impossibly heavy piece of machinery easily over his bare shoulder, the exposed muscles of his upper body sending thrills through the human’s body, who’d found in horror how tight his pants had rapidly become.

Golden eyes flick nervously to the door of the small room, worried that a xeno male will enter soon and worried that one would not, leaving him to nurse his fantasy alone. Using the casual shirt’s sleeve, he wipes at the sweat forming on his brow, tugging at the fabric around his body, finding the looser fit strange. He’s been dressed rigidly in the unrelenting fabric of his uniform for so long that the soft shirt feels foreign against his skin.

Another few nervous paces around the room and he stifles the desire to recheck yet again that he’d input the correct qualifications on the door’s console, assuring himself that he’s not an idiot, blinded slightly by years of repressed lust, most definitely, but not an idiot. He forces himself to breathe deeply, the dread he feels mixing with excitement at finally finding the release he’s been craving for so long.

His cheeks burn with the thought, feeling deeply shamed for having sought it out in this manner. But it’s practically impossible for him to find a xeno male interested in kriffing a human man and do the deed in the little free time he’s allotted, especially as it’d have to be off hours as the Empire doesn’t enlist beings other than humans. He sighs heavily. ‘Why am I like this?’

The desire to be held and touched, to connect with another being, to caress their skin and feel them touch his own nearly painful from years of physical neglect. The only contact he’d felt over his years in the Empire were attacks, kicks and punches meant to inflict harm upon him. He hadn’t been embraced since his father passed 8 years ago. The thought makes his heart clench and he pushes it away, not wanting to feel that agony.

He looks to the time keeper above the fresher door, feeling the excitement ebb as dread intensifies. ‘This was a mistake. I should never have come here. I’m embarrassing myself.’ He thinks miserably, after finding yet another half hour had passed. He sighs heavily, shoulders sagging as he slowly crosses the room to collect his outer cloak to sneak back to his ship, praying no one will notice. He jumps back, body instinctively bracing for a fight as the door slides open.

A massive Nautolan slowly enters the room, head co*cked slightly at the handsome human whose dropped into a fighting stance, golden eyes wide with embarrassment. “Were you not expecting someone?” He asks, his deep voice playful and soothing, a coy grin on his lips. Kallus feels his cheeks warm under his stare, those black eyes shimmering in the dim light of the room. He can’t help as his gaze takes in the man’s impressive frame, beautifully defined, exaggerated muscles, absolutely an intimidating creature, yet there’s a warmth to him which he finds odd for an oceanic type being.

“Oh…I um…sorry.” He stammers weakly, looking just as awkward as he feels which makes the nautolan chuckle. “First time?” He asks warmly, stepping further into the room, stopping within arm’s reach of Kallus, close enough to feel intimate yet far enough that the human doesn’t feel threatened. His dark eyes narrow with delight as he admires the man’s beauty, far more attractive than he’d expected to find in such a place. A human as handsome as he shouldn’t have to use such means to secure a mate unless of course, he has limited time.

“What? Oh. Ye…yes. First time in this um…yes.” He stumbles over his words, kicking himself for the uncharacteristically timid behavior. He’s an ISB agent after all! This shouldn’t be able to get him flustered and foolish! “First time with a…a male as well.” He admits, recomposing himself and forcing his eyes to meet the nautolan’s. “Mn, first time’s are always messy. I can lead, if you’d like?” He offers gently, his deep voice lowers a fraction, sounding almost like a purr.

Kallus’ body reacts immediately to the offer, heart rate picking up as blood flows downward between his thighs making his pants a bit tighter than comfortable. He clears his throat softly, forcing himself to appear somewhat calm. “That…would be appreciated.” He forces, sounding far more rigid than he’d intended. He kicks himself yet again. The nautolan’s head co*cks to the side, the coy smile on his handsome face coupled with the knowing look in those dark eyes making Kallus’ heart skip a beat.

“You’re Imperial?” He notes, making the color rush from the younger man’s face. His heart clenches at the sight, the flash of panic over the handsome human’s features, the bump on his throat moving up and down as he swallows. “It’s alright, I won’t tell. This will be our secret.” He purrs, stepping close enough to the young man to caress the side of his face with his large hand, shocked when the human flinches slightly.

It makes his heart ache seeing how the small, gentle touch elicits such a reaction from the man. He decides to take it real slow with the human, wanting to make him feel safe and comfortable in his presence to make his first time unforgettable. His hand gently caresses that defined jawline, brushing through the hair there. To his delight, the golden haired human hums quietly, eyes narrowing with enjoyment as he leans into the touch. He’s heard the Empire has strict regulations about relationships but hadn’t expected them to be physically starved.

“How old are you?” He asks, voice real low and gentle, his hand still slowly caressing his cheek and jaw, playing with his golden hair. “20…you?” Kallus asks conversationally, the soothing touch keeping him rooted to the spot as his mind blanks, too enthralled with the gentle warmth of the hand against his skin. Seeing the human slowly relaxing to his touch, his tendrils sway with delight behind him.
“35.” He says easily adding a quiet ‘will that be a problem?’ that the human quickly assures him it won’t. He chuckles softly, stepping a bit closer to the human who tenses momentarily. “Good. Because you really are beautiful.” He purrs, finding the blush it elicits quite endearing. He grins down at the human who, as tall as he is, only comes his chin. “I’d like to kiss you.” He states calmly, guiding his face up toward his, their mouths inches away.

“Is that alright?” The nautolan asks, the need in those golden eyes making them burn like embers as he nods once. Slowly, he leans in, softly brushing his lips against Kallus’, moving painfully slow to not startle the tightly wound imperial. He stifles his own desire to ravage those lips, instead letting the human set the pace, finding with a growl of delight that he’s a bit more lustful than hesitant. Need driving him forward, Kallus licks the nautolan’s lip, moaning as they part allowing him to slip in and explore that wonderful warmth, feeling the slick tongue of his partner’s moving against his own.

Kallus’ body trembles as the nautolan’s hands roam down the back of his neck and shoulders, gently exploring his chest and sides. After a few moments to adjust to the foreign sensation that makes his member throb with excitement, he allows his own hands to reach forward and touch that broad chest. He moans softly against those lips, tracing the broad muscles of the nautolan’s chest up to his shoulders and down his back, entranced by the feel. He squeezes one pectoral gently at first, then a bit rougher as it makes his hips want to thrust.

The nautolan pushes his tongue deep into the human’s mouth, strong hand on the small of his back pulling his body flush against his. He groans with delight as he feels that hard hot co*ck pressing firmly against his thigh, rubbing against it and grinning as the human trembles violently a loud moan escaping his lips. Kallus’ fingers dig into the strong muscles of his partner’s back as his hips rock into that massive thigh, his co*ck throbbing desperately with overwhelming need. Breathing deepens as he continues to thrust against the man, the strength and power of the nautolan both comforting and deeply arousing. Each desperate rock of his hips sends pleasure coursing through his body, a warmth pooling in his belly warning him to stop.

Realizing he’d been completely enraptured by his own pleasure, his cheeks warm as he pulls away slightly, a shy look on his handsome face as he breaths a quiet ‘sorry’. “Don’t be. I like seeing you unravel like that.” The nautolan purrs, voice deepened with lust from the unbridled moans the human had made.

He lets the younger man pull his hips away from his body, assuring his own throbbing co*ck that it he’ll be feeling it again very soon. He leans down to kiss the human as he begins slowly unbuttoning his shirt for him, revealing toned muscles for his hands to explore. Kallus follows the man’s lead, relieving him of his tunic and exposing the expanse of beautiful green skin. Unable to stop his primal desires, the agent leans forward and kisses the sensitive skin on the throat before him, trailing kisses and licking the skin from his shoulder up to his jawline.

The nautolan moans deeply at the light, intimate gesture, feeling the human’s hands roaming further down his belly toward his pants, hesitating as if needing permission. An amused grin spread across his face as he takes the young man’s hand, leading it to cup the large bulge in his pants. A lustful moan escapes him as Kallus massages his co*ck up and down, focusing pressure at the sensitive tip on each pass. He can’t help but rock his hips into the touch, his eyes closing with pleasure. Kallus’ member twitches impatiently, his eyes widening with excitement as he strokes the still clothed co*ck before him, its throbbing sending thrills through his own body.

A large hand stops his ministrations, much to his disappointment. He looks up with dismay into those warm dark eyes, the nautolan smiling mischievously. “Patience.” He purrs into the human’s ear, giving the lobe a lick before biting gently which makes his body tremble. “Kriff!” Kallus breaths, eyes closing as his mouth parts, not having expected such a small act to have such an effect on him. “Do you want to top?” The nautolan asks brusquely, the question taking a few moments longer to register in Kallus’ lust-clouded mind.

“N-no. I want…want you in me.” He admits openly, feeling emboldened with each new delightful advancement. “Mn.” The nautolan growls with desire, the coy smile on his face promising the human a good time. He leans forward to capture those lips that almost instantly part, Kallus’ tongue greedily meeting his, massaging and writhing as if competing. Reaching forward, he undoes the clasps on the human’s pants, letting them slide to the ground. He notices the slight tremble that runs through the human’s body, not nearly as dramatic as the first touch to his cheek. The thought makes him smile inwardly.

He pulls away just enough to take in the beautiful sight below, that long thick co*ck rock hard and barely concealed by the thin white fabric pulled taunt over it. He growls with desire, his hand wrapping around the hot flesh, feeling it’s density, shocked by how hard it’d grown. Kallus breaths in sharply, a quiet gasp as the man grabs his member and slowly, meticulously strokes up and down, the fabric of his undershorts the only thing between his sensitive flesh and the stranger’s skin.

As if reading his mind, the nautolan reaches back, sliding his hands over that plush ass into the undershorts, gently pulling them down. Kallus bites his bottom lip bracing for the pleasure as the rim of the shorts catch on his throbbing erection pulling it down a moment before letting it slap against his abdomen, his eyes rolling back as he moans. The nautolan chuckles deeply, the sound arousing and warm, his hands roaming up and down Kallus’ exposed hips, one coming to rest on his ass, the other tracing the length of his impressive member.

Kallus rests his forehead against the man’s shoulder, watching with delight as he languidly strokes his co*ck, the sight tantalizing. His hips rock with need into his touch, his back arching slightly as he pulls back the foreskin to brush his thumb over the sensitive tip. He pulls his hips back, knowing if he strokes him anymore then he’ll cum on the spot and that’s not how he wants the night to end. All reserved formality leaving him, he boldly grabs at the nautolan’s pants, quickly removing them in an eager bid to see what the man’s member will look like.

To his surprise, it’s not all that unlike his own, save for the dark green color, the sleeker narrower tip and the nubs lining the shaft. His golden eyes burn with a sudden intense desire as he gives the long shaft a few exploratory strokes. Without thinking twice, he drops to his knees and takes the hot flesh into his mouth, moaning with pleasure at the dirty sensation of his lips wrapping around another man’s co*ck. The nautolan’s eyes widen with surprise at the young man’s suddenly bold action, gasping with delight as his length is taken into that warm, gloriously wet mouth.

He curls his fingers in that golden hair, forcing his hips to stay still as the young man sucks on his co*ck, quite well too for his first time trying such a thing. He wonders if he’d practiced with his fingers while alone at night, the image of the beautiful human sucking on his own digits making his co*ck throb happily inside that wonderful mouth. He smiles down at the man, admiring how handsome and alluring he remains even while choking on a thick member.

Kallus feels his own co*ck throbbing, impatient with the neglect yet stubbornly standing up straight nearly brushing against his stomach with need. He does his best to ignore it, enthralled by the novel sensations and tastes of the member in his mouth. His tongue trails over the nubs, a slick substance coating it that’s a bit salty but not terrible. He moans, trying to see how far he can take the rigid flesh in, gagging as its tip hits the back of his throat. ‘Not that far’ he thinks with disappointment, wanting to be the best lover he can.

Before he can make another attempt, he feels those large hands pull at his shoulders, the co*ck slipping from his eager mouth. Once again, he looks up to that warm, lustful face with confused disappointment that makes the nautolan chuckle. “Keep that up an it’d be an early night.” He muses, guiding the human back to his feet and toward the bed they’d all but forgotten.

“I need to prepare you.” He growls, the hunger in his eyes and smile sending a thrill through the agent’s body, his co*ck twitching with anticipation. His previous explorations with his own body had proven to him how much he enjoys being fingered. The thought of his lover’s thick fingers pressing into him, stretching him to take that large co*ck sends his mind reeling with desire.

He lets the nautolan gently guide him in front of the bed coming behind him and pulling the human close. He feels that large member push between his thighs, its tip brushing against his balls. He moans as he grinds his ass into his lover’s hips, the strong hands on his waist keeping him steady as the massive nautolan thrusts against him, his teeth biting down at the base of his neck.

Kallus’ eyes roll back as they grind against one another, the feeling of another’s naked body against his own more satisfying than he’d imagined it would. A hungry moan escapes him, his body writhing with need against the large man behind him, pulling him close and kissing his neck. “Lay on the bed and bend over.” He commands voice deep and rough with need. Kallus obeys, finding the vulnerable position degrading and he sits back up, feeling uncomfortable.

The nautolan climbs behind him, pressing his co*ck between his ass cheeks and hovering his upper body above his back. He should feel trapped but it’s just too erotic, the closeness of the man’s body, the heat, the feeling of his member rubbing against his hole. He lets the man gently guide him back down, laying his upper body on the bed while keeping his hips in the air. The nautolan trails kisses down his back, biting and licking his way to his ass.

Kallus’ hands cling the sheets, his body bracing for what he knew had to happen but isn’t at all ready for, feeling hesitant and slightly ashamed to let someone do such a thing! His muscles tense, teeth gritting as the man kisses and bites the plump cheeks of his ass before spreading them wide, his slick tongue slowly roaming down until it reaches the tightened, puckered hole. A sharp gasp escapes him, his eyes rolling back with intense pleasure at the novel sensation. Warm breath brushes on the sensitive hole as the nautolan laughs at his dramatic reaction, delighted he enjoys it so.

He gives his cheeks a light, reassuring squeeze before licking his opening, his tongue circulating its entirety before lightly pressing on it. Too lost in pleasure, Kallus doesn’t realize it when his hips start to move and buck back, desperate for more! The nautolan hums in delight of his lover’s reaction, the vibrations moving through the sensitive hole, making him moan and writhe desperately.
Slowly, he presses his tongue more forcefully against it, forcing him to open ever so slightly. Willing himself to relax, Kallus gasps and moans as that glorious tongue opens him. The nautolan slicks his finger, gently rubbing it against his lover’s hole until he feels the muscles relax, pressing slowly in as Kallus bucks and whines with need.

A hungry grin spreads over his face, as the man easily takes his digit in, imagining the beautiful human fingering his own ass in desperate need for release. He removes his finger, wetting a second and pressing in once more, grabbing the man’s lower back to steady his eager writhing. The moans escaping the beautiful creature before him makes his co*ck throb and twitch with impatience, deciding to add a third finger and grinning wickedly when his lover’s body quickly obliges.

“More!!” The human groans, his voice rough with urgent need, his body thrusting into his touch. The nautolan grins hungrily, quickly finding the lubricant in the nightstand and smearing it generously on his firm co*ck. For good measure, he applies it to his fingers as well, rubbing the man’s entrance and pushing in slightly to give him extra lubrication for his first time. “Kriff I need you!” Kallus groans, demand and desperation in his muffled voice, his upper body still pressed into the bed.

He kneels behind the human, pressing the tip of his co*ck to the tight entrance, grinning as the man presses back into him, trying to impale himself on the hard shaft. Deciding not to keep his eager lover waiting, he thrusts forward slowly, easing his throbbing member deeper into the tight hole, finding his gasps and whines intoxicating. When he feels his balls touch the human’s body, his shaft buried as deep as it can, he pauses letting his lover adjust.

Kallus moans freely, his body squirming against that hot hard member deep inside, stretching him to his limit, a sensation his own fingers could never manage. Tears fill his eyes as he struggles to adjust, feeling like he’s being torn in two. Feeling the man’s muscles tightening, his breathing a bit ragged, the nautolan gently massages his lower back, hands gently caressing his back, sides, his ass trying to coax him to relax.

Slowly, the tension eases but not enough for him to start moving the way his co*ck is begging him to, the tightness around him almost too much. Leaning forward slightly, he reaches around the man, to gently stroke his only slightly softened member, surprised how hard it’d remained. Kallus’ tightly shut eyes flutter open slightly as he feels the hand stroking him, stifling the urge to rock his hips into the touch, too afraid to move. After a few long moments, he can’t hold back any longer and shifts slightly forward, feeling the hard member deep inside him retract slightly.

To his surprise, it doesn’t hurt as badly as he’d expected so he cautiously presses back pushing it in deeper once more. He moans softly, hands gripping tightly to the sheets as he gently starts rocking back and forth on the rigid flesh, the hand around his co*ck tightening slightly. “Mn, ah!” He breathes, his movements cautiously gaining momentum and confidence. He groans as the hand releases his member but continues moving, relishing the feeling of that co*ck moving deeply inside him, brushing against a spot that sends thrills of pleasure through him each time.

A gentle hand brushes up his arm, pulling his hand from the sheet and guiding it down between his thighs. He moans as he takes his own co*ck, stroking just the way he likes as the nautolan repositions himself, slowly, gently thrusting into him, relieving him of the duty. He makes short slow thrusts, keeping the pace the human had set until he begs him to go faster, even then moving only with slightly more vigorously until he growls for more. Slowly, he builds to a speed sure to make him come soon, the wild moans of the human beneath him, coupled with the tightening of the muscles around his co*ck promising that his lover is close as well.
“Kriff! Oh, kriff, it feels so…ah!” Kallus moans freely, completely unraveling with pleasure, that co*ck deep inside him brushing against just the right spot again and again. His hand strokes faster with desperate need, his own co*ck throbbing happily as he nears his climax. Heat pools in his stomach, his balls tightening and rising as he nears, slapping against the human’s flesh with each thrust. He grips his lover’s hips tightly, keeping him locked in place as he thrusts madly into that tight hole, groaning deeply as he releases into that beautiful body.

Kallus’ eyes roll back as he feels a warmth filling him, the sounds his lover makes as he trembles against him telling of his org*sm. For a moment, he’s worried that the nautolan will pull out just when he’s so incredibly close to his own release but once the man’s regained himself, he starts thrusting once more, seeking his partner’s release. He whines with pleasure and relief, his hand tightening around his co*ck, stroking harder, his hips bucking back into the man, thrusting that hard shaft deep into his body. His breath hitches as the nautolan repositions himself, the tip of his co*ck jabbing directly into that spot deep inside him.

His vision blurs as he thrusts again and again against it, the pleasure too much to handle. With a loud, desperate moan, his muscles tense and tremble, climaxing with an intensity he’d ever been able to give himself. He writhes with pleasure, moaning through each wave of aftershocks that course powerfully through his body until he collapses, exhausted and utterly satisfied. The nautolan continues slowly, gently thrusting into that gorgeous body, releveling in the soft moans of pleasure it pulls from the human.

Kallus smiles contentedly, feeling that member lazily moving inside him as the man lays against him, those strong arms wrapping around his body, holding him tight. His heart aches with delight at being so incredibly close to another being, of sharing his own body with another. After a while, he pulls his softened member out of that glorious hole, grinning as the young man grumbles with disappointment. He trails kisses along his neck and shoulder, feeling that the human craves the intimate touch. They lay together in an exhausted heap, ignoring the mess they’ve made to relish in the warmth of another’s body.

Nearly dozing off with contentment, Kallus hums tiredly when the nautolan squeezes him tighter, the warm breath on his neck sending a shiver down his spine. “We need to clean up. Time is almost out.” The reminder makes the agent’s stomach twist, wanting to remain here wrapped in the man’s embrace forever. The thought of returning to his empty quarters making him terribly depressed all the sudden. He groans against it, pressing himself closer to the nautolan instead. He chuckles deeply at the young man, kissing his cheek before pulling away from him.

“Come on. They have water showers here. Take one with me.” He suggests, coaxing the man from the bed with the enticing offer. Kallus follows him to the fresher, head swimming with emotions, the most pressing and startling of which is his resistance to returning to his Imperial ship. *******

Chapter 10: Caught Red Handed

Chapter Text

None of the irritation he feels shows in his stoic expression, his handsome features perfectly schooled to neutrality, his stare indifferent despite how very much he’d like to groan. The planet coming closer into view so dense and sterile that it makes his stomach turn with distaste. He’d spent years on the horrid rock, throwing himself with near comical dedication at every mission and project given to him by his superiors in ISB headquarters. The thought makes his chest tighten, feeling intensely foolish in hindsight.

The ship brings him into the docking port, the few men he’d brought with him saluting him as he descends the ramp to the dismal base. Taking a deep breath, he stifles the urge to run away, forcing himself further into the massive building after showing his credentials to the guards. The building is surprisingly quiet, making it clear he’s the first to have arrived for the meetings that will surely take far too long, being drawn out by pretentious dick swinging and petty arguments constructed to help one climb higher on the ladder, taking down anyone necessary.

He sighs, having once been an enthusiastic player in the ridiculous game the Empire’s crafted to keep its agents pitted against one another. He’d excelled at that as well, enjoyed it at times; the truth of it making him cringe inwardly. What may have been intriguing to him in his youth only makes him feel slightly nauseated now, finding the drive for personal glory dull and unattractive. Quiet sacrifice in the name of what’s right, to save the innocent, to restore balance and peace to the aching galaxy…that sounds appealing.

And yet, he’ll have to spend hours upon hours listening to the pompous nonsense and no doubt be chastised for his failure to capture the Ghost Crew and stamp out the rebellion growing in his sector. Months ago, it would have eaten him alive to be pulled to the carpet in a crowded room of his peers and be ridiculed for his shortcomings. Now however, it’ll simply be a minor irritation to be pulled from his work in securing useful intel for the Ghost Crew.

The thought sends a rebellious thrill through him, a smile pulling at his lips that he forces down. A contentment settles in his chest as he considers that perhaps the meeting may reveal information that could aid the rebellion, finding the irony a bit too much for him to entertain long without a smile threatening his stoic expression. He clears his throat softly, staring straight ahead as he passes other agents of a lower rank, pretending they don’t exist as they salute him with forced respect.

‘I wonder if the rebels hold such ostentatious customs.’ He muses, his mind picturing Zeb walking stiffly past inferior rebels without casting them a glance, the thought utterly ridiculous to him. He probably smiles warmly at everyone who crosses paths with him, maybe even patting them roughly on the shoulder in that friendly way he’s done to him so many times. A softness crosses his features as he thinks about the amiable lasat, wanting to feel his hand on his shoulder or the brush of his elbow against his arm.

He exhales quietly to settle his thoughts, letting that particular desire fade into the back of his mind, always present merely ignored as he forces himself to focus. The facility is probably the very worst place for him to be caught red handed in, surrounded by high level ISB and ruthless superiors. The only place he can imagine would be worse is Inquisitor Headquarters. The abysmal thought sends a shiver down his spine, his mind snapping back to keen attention as adrenaline courses through him. One misstep here and it’s all over and he knows full well what happens to ISB defectors.

Sharp footfalls of his boots break the sterile silence of the winding corridors, his body navigating the facility with practiced ease, its layout forever emblazed in his mind after years of trekking it. It seems as though most workers are prepping for the meetings or readying to greet the highest-ranking officers yet to arrive, making the building feel even more stark and uninhabitable. He welcomes the quiet, the solitude familiar and safe. His mind roams to the rebels once again, wondering what their bases are like. Wondering if they even have a base. Dodonna’s cell surely has one but has Syndulla’s secured one as of yet?

His golden eyes widen as he spots an old astromech calmly roll by in the corridor ahead like he owns the place. Kallus feels a knot in his stomach instantly form as he recognizes the little droid, the fresh paintjob at odds with his outdated mechanics, very obviously a disguise. ‘Oh, kriff me.’ He groans internally, rolling his eyes. He looks around the empty corridor for surveillance before following the cursing astromech. Surely, the Ghost Crew wouldn’t be so brash to infiltrate the secure facility during a quarterly meeting!

He stops in his tracks, expression dropping with disbelief as the droid rolls into a restricted area, pausing as an office door slides open to receive him. ‘Apparently, they would.’ He counters, rolling his golden eyes yet again before disabling the surveillance cameras lining the hallway.

Silently, he sneaks to the office door, eyes widening with dread as he hears two barely hushed voices clearly arguing. “Quite telling me how to do it, Ezra, you’ve never even done it!” “But I’ve seen it done before!” “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” “Just let me do it Sabine!” “Are you sure this is even the right office?!” “Of course I am! You’re just doing it wrong!”

The office door slides open for Kallus to enter, his expression stern as he looks at the two storm troopers behind the desk who freeze when they see him. “What are you doing here?” He hisses, crossing the room in a few long strides and towering above the teens. “Oh uh, following orders, Sir. We were uh…stationed to guard the…desk.” Ezra’s poorly disguised voice says deeply, earning an exaggerated eyeroll from the agent.

“The desk? Really?” Sabine’s hushed voice taunts flatly, shaking her head at the shrugging trooper beside her. Kallus pinches the bridge of his nose, willing back a headache threatening to become a migraine.

“Bridger, neither of us have time. What are you looking for? And if you say ‘a desk’ so help me!” He adds threateningly, thinking it would be comical had the situation not been as dire as it is. The troopers freeze, both staring at Kallus with what he imagines is shock behind those helmets. “The building will be crawling with high-ranking ISB and even higher-ranking officers in mere minutes. Now is not the time.” He urges sternly, voice thick with worry.

“We’re trying to retrieve intel from Yularen’s office.” Sabine explains shortly, earning a curt nod from the agent. “You’re in the wrong office. It’s two doors down on the right. I’ll draw him out of his office, stay here until you hear us leave. I’ve disabled the surveillance in the hall, so you’ll have a clean getaway, but you only have about 10 minutes before the other officers begin to arrive.” He says sternly before turning on his heel and leaving the office. The teens exchange a look, shrugging in unison.

His heart clenches in his chest, stomach twisting with guilt. Of all of the officers serving the Empire, Yularen is the only one he regrets betraying. The man had been almost like a mentor to him when he’d trained in his classes. He’d taken interest when Kallus had surpassed his classmates’ scores, even more so when he’d excelled repeatedly with every test thrown at him. The man had been encouraging and kind to him, almost like a father figure at least in Kallus’ mind.

Yularen had instilled a deep belief in him that the Empire was fighting for the greater good of the galaxy, that all their sacrifices were to help and protect those who could not help themselves. If only he could convince the man how wrong that belief is, have him join the rebellion with him. He shakes his head, knowing the man’s convictions are too rigid and set in his ways.

A heavy sigh escapes him as he approaches the door, feeling sick with guilt as he knocks lightly, the old man’s dutiful voice as he says ‘enter’ conjuring up many memories beginning that very same way. He steps through the door, at full respectful attention as he enters the office, the old man brightening with happiness at the sight of his old protégé. “Agent Kallus! I was hoping to speak with you today.” He greets kindly, surprising the younger man. “Colonel Yularen, I didn’t think you’d recognize me.” He admits humbly, caught off guard by the warmth of the man.

“I keep tabs on all my star pupils.” Yularen explains, standing and crossing his own office to stand before the agent, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I heard about Swain’s escape. I wanted to offer you my condolences. It’s a hard thing to endure when someone you’ve trained betrays the Empire we serve, even harder still to have them escape justice.” He states in a way meant to comfort but does the exact opposite. Kallus feels his features falter, his stoic expression failing for just a moment as his stomach twists with guilt.

“I am sorry.” Yularen adds more warmly, taking his momentary lapse in control for pain of Swain’s escape. “Thank you, Colonel.” He states slowly, his heart aching in his chest under the kind gaze, hating the irony of the whole situation. “I actually wanted to ask for your wisdom, Colonel, if I might?” He pivots after clearing his throat softly. “Of course! Walk with me, I must greet Governor Pryce who should be arriving any moment.” Yularen states kindly, leading Kallus out of the office.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about a particularly difficult rebel cell that I’ve been struggling to uproot in the Lothal sector. I was hoping you could offer your insights.” Kallus states respectfully, a bit louder than necessary as they pass the office where he’d left the two stormtroopers, ensuring the kids will hear him. They’ve just barely turned the corner when he hears the office door sliding open, the kids bickering under their breaths as they sneak down the hall.

Kallus forces himself to focus, finding the man’s company soothing and unsettling at the same time. Guilt mixing with a fondness and longing that cannot be helped. There is no solution here as with Swain, just another relationship destined for ruin. The thought makes his stomach drop with misery. *******

He yawns deeply, feeling utterly spent after the rollercoaster of emotions and hours upon hours spent sitting through that monotonous meeting. Sitting on his bed, he types in the information gathered while it’s still fresh in his head, ignoring the sleep nagging at his body. It’s late in the rotation, later than he typically likes to stay up but he doesn’t want any intel that may be of use to the rebels to slip his mind. A shudder runs down the muscles surrounding his spine as he recalls those red eyes of the chiss admiral, the eerily calm demeanor of the man deeply unsettling.

His tone even more so as he addressed the ISB agents present, explaining the tactics he’s used in the past to squash out rebel sympathizers in his sector. The means of which he used deeply disturbing to Kallus, making his own attempts pale in comparison. Thankfully, the admiral is stationed far from his rebel cell, ensuring their safety for at least the time being.

Unfortunately, he’d learned that Governor Pryce will be returning to Lothal and overseeing his efforts to dampen the rebel activity in his sector. In the safety of his own quarters, he allows himself to grumble with distaste, finding her pompous attitude endlessly annoying. She’s far less clever than she believes herself to be, her intelligence paling in comparison to his own which he’s not sure would be able to stand up to Thrawn’s. He shakes his head to clear it of the red eyed man, finding him terribly unsettling.

But with Pryce’s return, he’ll have to be more careful when he alters his reports or redirects troopers. Now that he has eyes directly watching everything he does, the stakes are a bit higher. It doesn’t worry him too much though, seeing as she’s not the brightest officer they could have stationed above him. Her self-worth and desire to seem greater than she is outweighing her abilities and talent. He’s confident in his ability to operate as Fulcrum even with her looking down her abnormally large nose at him and his performance.

He takes a long moment to scan the information on his datapad, thinking back over the day to see if he’d missed anything of importance. The image of the two storm troopers snooping around the wrong office flashing through his bemused mind. Perhaps he should make a transmission explaining how senseless and reckless the rebels had been sending two teenagers and a droid into the belly of the beast when a high-level meeting was about to occur. He shakes his head, tucking the datapad safely away.

Another deep yawn escapes him as he stretches his arms overhead, feeling his cramping muscles release slightly. If anyone else had seen the two ‘troopers’ it could have ended very differently. As it was, they’d been lucky, extremely lucky. The first 2 hours of the meeting, he’d spent on the edge of his seat, worried sick about the two kids, baiting his breath for an alarm that never came. He rubs his temples before he climbs into bed, assuring himself that the rebels had made it back to the Ghost safely.

He turns the lights out, the soft glow of the meteorite sending warm shadows across the room. With a smile, he imagines Zeb greeting the two kids in storm trooper armor, the large grin and relieved expression he’d wear on that expressive face of his. Green eyes shimmering with delight as he pulls them into his sides, giving them warm one-armed hugs.

Not for the first time, he imagines what it’d be like for the lasat to pull him in close, wrap his muscular arms around him, feel the warmth of his body so close, so comforting. A sigh escapes him, eyes closing as a soft smile graces his lips at the mere thought of Zeb holding him close. He wraps his own arms around himself, allowing his mind to once again ruminate on the fantasy.

Wondering what the fur on his chest feels like; would it be as soft as the fur on his arms? If he’s anything like the few furry beings he’d been with, then the fur on his chest and belly will be a bit longer and even softer, luxuriously soft! The desire to bury his face in that softness is near overwhelming.

He’d never been in love before, never had the chance or time to connect deeply enough with another being for that kind of trust and intimacy to flourish. But he’s heard all about it, what it feels like, what it makes you do, how much it can hurt. He groans sadly, knowing he’s got it bad for the man. *********

Chapter 11: Dinner Date

Chapter Text

Resituating himself in his chair in the co*ckpit, a warm feeling spreads through his massive chest as he looks around at his family, all together once again. The air cleared between Kanan and Ezra, the nasty sith whatchamacallit removed from his room allowing his dreams to become peaceful once again, that tattooed, horned creepy sith guy finally out of their hair after nearly killing his whole family. The thought makes his fangs bare subconsciously, his claws digging into the arms of his chair momentarily. He shakes his head as if to clear it, his bright green eyes focusing on the planet coming into view.

“Ok kids. Time for a bit of a vacation huh?” Hera says pleasantly, knowing that after all they’ve endured the last few months, they all needed, no deserved, an easy mission. Barely a mission honestly. They’re only coming to the crowded city so that Hera can meet with a middleman, get a bit of intel, and establish a new connection for the rebellion. The rest of the crew is free to roam around the city for the night, the planet clear of all Imperial presence according to rebel intelligence.

The landing ramp is still lowering when Zeb jumps off it, lumbering into the bustling and darkening city streets, the string lights over the vendor stalls shimmering in the dying light of day. “Be safe out there, big guy!” He hears Sabine call out in a friendly tone, his heart tugging with guilt at not having waited for them. As much as he loves the kids, Kanan and Hera, he desperately needs a break from them all!

Ezra’s whines about being left behind, his grating tone dissipating all guilt Zeb had harbored seconds ago. It’s a good call to snatch alone time, especially because he doesn’t even have a bunk to himself anymore. Despite the narrow, crowded streets, he feels more open, free, his chest expanding with a playful curiosity as he searches the numerous vendors lining both sides of the street. A smile lingers on his lips, broadening as he takes in the delicious scents of different cuisine being made, his belly rumbling eagerly for real, actual food.

He takes his time, wanting to choose his meal wisely and following his nose through the commotion around him. A strange tug in his chest pulls his attention toward the right, finding only a darkened alley. He’s about to look away when a pair of golden eyes pierce through the darkness, Kallus stepping into view, wearing that same hooded top he utilizes on fulcrum missions. His heart makes a strange leap, his stomach feeling fluttery all the sudden. He chalks it up to hunger and the enticing smells around him.

The lasat slows so that the human can weave into the crowd beside him, their shoulders touching as he leans in close. “How long are you here for?” He hisses urgently, sounding impossibly hurried which is very much uncharacteristic of the typically languid man. “Why? You wanna buy me a drink?” He teases, trying to lighten the mood but earning a deep frown that makes his ears lower a fraction.

“I need to know how long to cloud your ship’s signature on the planet.” Kallus states seriously, the frustrated look on his handsome features worrying Zeb. “We’ve already got it clouded.” He assures, apprehension tightening his throat as the human shakes his head firmly. His family isn’t as protected as he’d thought!!

“The cloaking frequency you utilize only works in space, once planetside any ship using it is automatically assigned the ‘ghost’ title and apprehended. You were lucky I was monitoring it when your ship registered. You need a new one for planetary visits.” Kallus explains tersely, worry thick in his tone which is interesting. He’s looking out for Zeb’s family, concerned about them even. The thought makes his heart warm, a large grin spreading across his face as he looks down fondly at the human beside him.

“I’ll tell Hera when I get back.” He assures, stifling the urge to run home that moment, the human’s company only holding him back. Besides, Kallus just said he was clouding it for them. Seeing the lasat’s complacency, Kallus pulls Zeb by the arm into an alley, hoping to instill in him the seriousness of their situation.

“How long Zeb?” He presses firmly, his hand still squeezing firmly on that broad limb. “Only til mornin.” Zeb shrugs, watching as the agent turns his attention to a datapad, his fingers working nimbly, far quicker than he’d seen a human type before. “Thought the planet didn’t have Imperial presence. That’s what intelligence said.” Zeb muses, watching the human with silent admiration, his features looking soft and approachable in the dim light.

“Yes well, intel isn’t always correct. It’s best to assume their presence is everywhere.” He states flatly, the irritation in his tone directed toward the Empire not the lasat beside him. Zeb doesn’t miss that he uses the term ‘their’ instead of ‘our’, the man is separating himself from the corrupt institution. “Mn. So, you came to hang out with me then?” Zeb asks playfully, finding it hard to worry with the man so close to him, his chest feeling light and content. Kallus slowly looks up from his datapad fixing him with an incredulous look.

“I’m here because of a rise in rebel activity on the planet. The Empire believes there is an informant planetside aiding the rebellion. I was sent to investigate.” He explains gravely, frowning deeply at the lasat.

“Nice to see you too.” Zeb chides glumly, crossing his arms and looking away with ears lowered. His disappointed expression makes the human’s chest ache, feeling oddly awful for impressing on him how seriously his life had been in danger when he’d landed. But now that he’s ensured their safety for the night there is no need to continue to dampen his mood.

“It is nice to see you, Zeb. I apologize, I was startled by your sudden arrival when my troops are out patrolling for rebels. I was afraid you and your family would be caught.” He admits honestly, voice soft and lowered. To his relief, the lasat’s ears perk up happily, the glance he gives him full of that previous playfulness, the boyish grin on his face making his own heart warm. “Now give me a moment to finish and I’ll get you that drink.” Kallus adds, an almost mischievous smile on his face.

Zeb’s ears perk even higher at that, eyes bright with enthusiasm. Not only does he have a night off but he can spend it with Kallus. He stifles a laugh at the thought that only months ago that prospect would have made him growl with disdain. He eagerly watches the human work, shifting his weight from one foot to the other impatiently as the minutes go by.

Suddenly his fur lifts with the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. His keen eyes scour the alley then the rooftops above, lingering on the windows of the buildings before chalking it up to his imagination. An intoxicating scent drifts in with the light breeze, filling his senses and making his muscles go limp with delight. “Ok! I’m all yours.” Kallus states casually, sighing to decompress as he tucks the datapad away.

“Good! Cause I think I just found what I want for dinner.” Zeb announces happily, sniffing the air deeply as his ears twitch with delight. A large, strong hand envelopes Kallus’ wrist, tugging him from the alley out onto the street, guiding him through the bustling crowd. “Zeb! Zeb, where are you taking me?!” Kallus demands in a hushed tone, as if worried they’ll be caught despite having redirected his men to the other side of the city.

“Dunno! Followin’ ma nose!” Zeb responds happily, still tugging the human along, holding tight so as not to lose him in the crowd. Sniffing the air deeply, his eyes light up as he spots the vendor he’s seeking, the enormous pots simmering with the incredible soup he’s been craving for nearly a year. He can hardly contain his delight as he pulls Kallus in front of the stall beside him, eyes bright with anticipation.

“Ever had this before?” He asks the human, the eager look on his face making Kallus grin, he’d never seen him so open and carefree before, it’s rather…adorable. “No, I…what is it?” He asks, eyeing the contents and taking in the rather pleasing aromatics.

“Yer in for a treat!!” Zeb announces, leaving his question unanswered as he orders them both a bowl. Kallus watches the vendor ladle the concoction; broth, various vegetables, what looks like some kind of meat and long noodles. At least it’s nothing alive; he can’t stand eating living, squirming creatures.

Zeb makes to grab the few credits in his belt but Kallus steadies his wrist firmly, giving him a conspiratorial look as he pays the vendor. The lasat’s ears twitch with confusion having not seen the man wear that rather rebellious look before. Kallus leans in close, stretching up to Zeb’s ear to whisper “let the Empire pay for it.” The satisfied smirk he wears as he draws away combined with the glimmer of pure joy in his golden eyes pulls a deep laugh from Zeb, finding him too much to handle.

They thank the vendor before moving off to the side, finding a cramped little bar to rest at with their bowls. After ordering a round of drinks, Zeb decides the soup surely must be cool enough to dig in, finding quickly that it’s very much not. He gracelessly pants, fanning off his burnt tongue as his companion stifles a laugh while finding him a glass of water. “Careful! It’s hot!” Zeb says uselessly after downing the glass, catching Kallus’ smirk as he easily teases ‘you don’t say.’

“Hey, I went out on my own to ‘scape the teasin’, don’ you start gettin’ a sense a humor on me.” Zeb drawls, unable to suppress the smile on his face, finding it endearing to be taunted by the human. He bumps his large shoulder into Kallus’ remaining a moment longer than necessary and instantly wanting to return to his warmth once he’s pulled away.

“Is that so? What might I ask do they have to tease you about?” Kallus asks, eyes shimmering with playful interest as he looks at him over the rim of his glass before taking a sip. The innocent question makes Zeb’s stomach twist with dread, unwilling to let the agent know that the kids are currently teasing him about being romantically involved with well…him! That might just scare him away from the little bar and the meal they’re sharing together and that’s the last thing he wants to happen right now. His ears lower with embarrassment as he rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze as he fishes for an answer.

“Oh, you know, little things the kids get on me ‘bout. Snorin’ at night, occasionally trippin’ over things, Ezra complainin’ ‘bout my lasat smell. Stupid things.” Zeb lies truthfully, the kids have given him grief about all those things but nothing annoying enough to drive him from the Ghost and his beloved family into the solitude of an unfamiliar city.

“He complains about your ‘lasat smell’?” Kallus repeats curiously, picking out the one taunt that he’s actually a bit self-conscious about. His ears lower with embarrassment, his nose wrinkling with the topic. “Uh, yeah, Ezra thinks I make our bunk smell.” He admits, feeling his cheeks burn under the complex look Kallus gives him. “It smelt fine before he moved in though.” Zeb shrugs, swirling the liquid in his glass to distract himself.

To his surprise, the human inches a bit closer breathing deeply as their shoulders touch which makes Zeb’s eyes go wide. “I think you smell quite good, actually.” Kallus compliments, casually drawing back as if it were completely natural to lean in and give another being, especially an ex-rival, a little whiff. He blinks a few times, ears twitching with temporary stupor before rising with delight. So, it is just the kid making things up!

“Oh! Uh…thanks…I guess.” He stammers awkwardly, relieved yet also oddly enthralled by what just happened. The human likes his scent! Not only does he not stink but actually smells good to him! He’d leaned in close and smelt him and liked it. No human had ever done that to him before. No being had since…since lasan. Zeb’s eyes lower slightly, confused by an odd feeling in his chest making his heart skip a few beats.

Feeling he’s overstepped, Kallus turns his attention to the bowl on the bar, lowering his face to hide the slight blush creeping on his cheeks at his own behavior. What did he hope would happen? That the man would lean in and kiss him? His stomach squirms, knowing that’s exactly what he’d hoped for. Instead, the lasat seems to be confused or unsettled. If he were disgusted, he’d have left already so it’s safe to assume that he still wants him around for the time being.

“This, however, smells even better.” He says casually, trying to hide his embarrassment. To his relief, Zeb’s attention is drawn completely to the forgotten meal before him. “Should be safe now. Give it a try, if it’s not the best thing ya ever had, I’ll owe ya another round!” Zeb says enthusiastically, watching the human eagerly for his reaction as he brings the bowl to his lips. Feeling he’s being watched Kallus slowly looks to his companion, pausing before taking a small sip.

Kallus’ golden eyes grow wide as the incredible broth caresses his palate, the taste soothing and rich and downright enthralling with the complexity of spices! He’d never tasted anything so delicious before! “Zeb…that’s incredible!” He says in a tone of pure awe, looking to the wide grin of the man beside him which makes him smile in turn, feeling everything has returned to normal.

“Told ya!” Zeb answers simply, bumping his shoulder against Kallus’ before tucking into his own meal. They eat hungrily in content, comfortable silence, listening to the bustle around them as they relish the incredible taste of the soup. “Ever had anythin’ like it?” Zeb asks, once he can see the bottom of his bowl, urging himself to slow down and savor it.

“No, I haven’t actually. I’ve been living on Empire rations for the last 20 standard years. Nothing like this is ever served.” Kallus answers, keeping his voice down despite the ruckus around them. There are ears everywhere, after all.

“What about before that? Yer family cooked, right?” Zeb asks, realizing a moment too late that he doesn’t have any idea what his home life had been like. Realizing another moment too late how much he really doesn’t know about the human! Kallus pauses ever so slightly in his meal, a motion anyone who isn’t as keen as a lasat might not have noticed.

“Nothing like this.” He answers simply, something in his tone not sitting right with Zeb. Like there’s more to it that he wants to share but doesn’t know if he should. “Your family didn’t have special recipes or anythin’ like that?” Zeb tries coaxing the human into opening further, wanting to know everything about him.

“We did, it’s just…I don’t really remember it ever being made properly.” Kallus admits stiffly, a timid note in his voice coupling with his suddenly jerky eye movements cueing Zeb to his discomfort.
After a few tense moments, the lasat considers apologizing, thinking the human isn’t as comfortable with him as he’d thought and that he’d perhaps crossed a line. Just as he’s about to open his mouth, that smooth velvety voice reaches his ears that twitch with delight at the sound.

“My mother died when I was quite young, 6 to be exact. My father tried to take over meals but quickly found he was abysmal at it. For months, we tried to force down the…mess he’d make…somehow always burnt yet still…raw. It was truly awful; he could fix anything just not an edible meal.” Kallus explains, gaining confidence with the enraptured way Zeb looks at him as he talks. The tender warmth in his voice as he speaks of his father makes Zeb’s chest loosen, wanting to pull the man in close.

“After one particularly horrendous meal that made us both quite ill, I fished out my mother’s recipe book. I used it to teach myself how to cook, following the simplest ones first that didn’t require actual heat or cooking. Over the years, I think I got efficient but nothing I made could ever compare to this.” He admits humbly, looking rather sheepish, as if he’d been caught naked. That thought makes Zeb’s mind stutter momentarily, remembering the time he’d barged in on him showering and quickly forcing that out of his mind.

“Didn’t know that ‘bout you, Kal. So, you gonna make me dinner sometime?” Zeb adds playfully, grinning at the human as his ears wiggle up and down suggestively, the sight drawing a soft chuckle from the man. “Perhaps, if you play your cards right.” Kallus counters, the coy grin on his lips absolutely enthralling and Zeb finds he’s having a hard time prying his eyes away, as if they’re drawing him in.

After a few moments, he notices the soft pink on the human’s cheeks, the way he gently bites at his bottom lip telling him that he’s been staring too long and making the human uncomfortable. He quickly looks away as if burnt, large green eyes scouring everything before him while seeing nothing. ‘Karabast! Why are humans so different from lasat?!’ That was fine in his own culture but humans seem to get flustered with it!

Kallus’ eyes lower to the bar beneath his elbows, kicking himself for being too forward, making his intentions too obvious. Stomach sinking miserably with rejection, he tips the remaining liquid in his glass back, letting it burn his throat as punishment for his brashness. Zeb mirrors Kallus’ movements and finishes off his own drink, feeling guilty for making the human feel awkward.

“Did you want another?” The human asks gingerly after a few long moments, easing casually back into conversation to pretend he hadn’t just tried to seduce the man into kissing him. He has no idea whether or not Zeb means to be coming on as he is and has no idea whether or not his own advances are welcome or are scaring the massive lasat away or perhaps are being misunderstood. ‘I really need to look into lasat courting rituals and social behaviors’, he reprimands himself.

“Let’s go explorin’, see what they’ve all got here.” Zeb suggests lightly, feeling it best to not have another drink as that might be why he’s acting so odd with the human. “Lead the way.” Kallus commands lightly, his ability to take up the role of authority without even trying quite a wonder. Zeb steps out into the bustling street, ears lowering as he looks around, feeling eyes on him. “Are you alright?” Kallus asks, securing the hood over his head for extra security before scanning the perimeter as well.

“Yeah, just…yeah. Let’s see what’s around here.” Zeb says pushing away the unease as he inches closer to the human beside him, finding his presence comforting, grounding, which should be odd given their past but feels natural now. “Stay close, don’ wanna lose ya in this mess.” He adds cautiously, inching even closer so that their shoulders are flush against one another.

The human can barely suppress a laugh at the man’s concern. He’s one of the most highly trained, deadly beings in the galaxy, not a 2-year-old! Even if they got separated, he’s more than capable of finding his way back to the lasat towering over the crowd. But he keeps those facts to himself. “Good point.” Kallus agrees instead, delighted to remain close to the intimidating and warm behemoth of a man.

‘So, he’s not entirely adverse to me, after all. Perhaps, I wasn’t being clear enough earlier? That might not be a normal gesture in lasat culture to usher in kissing.’ He muses, selecting his next words carefully to keep the conversation casual until he has a better understanding of Zeb’s intentions. “Are you looking for anything in particular?” He feels the muscular arm pressed to his rise as the lasat shrugs, the friction sending a thrill through him.

“No, just maybe somethin’ for the kids. Like to bring ‘em back things when I can.” Zeb admits easily, enjoying the feel of the man so close to his side. Usually, humans aren’t so keen on physical contact, but Kallus seems to relish it, perhaps due to the strict restraints of the Empire. Well, if he wants it, he’s got a bottomless supply just waiting to be given.

“So, the kids tease you enough to make you want to run away, yet you’re looking for something to bring back for them.” Kallus notes curiously, studying the lasat as he searches the stalls for something the teens will find amusing, finding the man to be an utter conundrum. He’s too good for this galaxy. Zeb shrugs noncommittally, turning to the human with a grin on his face that melts Kallus’ heart.

“Ya know how it is, they’re family. They get under yer skin but…still love em.” He says without thinking, pursing his lips as he realizes yet again that he doesn’t know much about the human, where he came from, nor his home life. Kallus might not know how it is in families. Might not have one. The thought makes his chest tighten slightly, wanting to wrap his arm around the man.

“Mn. You’re a good man Zeb. You’ve a kind heart. I admire that about you.” Kallus says sincerely, keeping his eyes pointedly on the stall in front of him rather than on Zeb, not trusting his ability keep the intense adoration he feels for the man from his expression. “You’re one to talk.” Zeb says lightheartedly, bumping his shoulder against the human’s and noticing with dread that it’s far more tense than before.
Realizing he may misunderstand, he quickly utters ‘meanin’ you did all ya did tonight, rushing to help us when we didn’ even know we were in trouble without us even knowin’ you helped us. You’re a good man, Kal. Mean it.’ Golden eyes meet green, holding them there for a few long moments both searching the other for something.

“Pleasure district is a few blocks away boys.” The shriveled old lady behind the stall says lazily, snapping them from whatever that was. “If yer lookin’ for a room that is.” She adds, smirking at the two. Kallus ducks his head to hide the intense burn on his cheeks while Zeb shoots a weak glare at the amused old lady. “Come on.” Zeb growls, guiding the human to the next stall selling some kind of sweet.
He sniffs the air, the scent of the dessert thoroughly enticing. Seeing his enthusiasm, Kallus quickly orders them both a cup of the flavor the lasat hovers over longest, that mischievous grin reappearing on his lips, sending Zeb’s stomach into an odd flutter. They peruse the street vendors while eating the frozen treat, both pleasantly surprised by how delicious it is.

Zeb keeps his shoulder firmly pressed against the human’s ensuring he’s by his side where he can keep tabs on and protect him if needed. Kallus’ quiet sigh of satisfaction as he finishes the iced dessert bringing a warm grin to the lasat’s face, who wonders if it’d be odd to offer him a bite of what little remains in his own cup. He’s still pondering it over when he feels the human freeze against him.

“Is that…is that Rhodian chocobutter whisky?” Kallus asks, stopping in his tracks as he spots a booth filled with rows upon rows of bottles glimmering in the string lights hanging above the streets. “Is it what now?” Zeb asks, abandoning the last of the frozen cream as the human tugs him toward the stall. “Zeb, have you ever tried this?” He asks eagerly, the excitement in his eyes making his heart flutter strangely.

“Can’t say I have.” He answers honestly, looking the labels over a few times to confirm. “Would you like a sample?” The Rhodian behind the bottles asks fervently, offering them tiny disposable cups each with a mouthful of the fragrant alcohol, obviously hoping to secure a sale. Zeb sniffs at it, his ears turning upward with the sweet and warm scent that fills his senses. He quickly downs the contents, instantly wanting more.

“This…this is dangerous stuff.” He muses, grinning ear to ear at the indulgent drink. “I like a little danger.” Kallus says coyly, something in his smirk intriguing the lasat whose eyes narrow slightly but he remains silent, unable to figure out what it is about it that’s making him so giddy. “Two please.” Kallus orders, paying the vendor after the Rhodian packages two bottles of the whisky in separate bags. Zeb’s brows shoot up as the human hands one bag to him, eyebrow co*cking as that mischievous smile flashes over his features.

“This way.” He commands, ushering the lasat to continue down the seemingly never-ending street along with him. “Thanks Kal, ya didn’ have to…” Zeb starts, falling silent when the human shoots him another conspiratorial look that pulls a large grin from him. This time, he can’t help but laugh loudly, throwing an arm around the agent and pulling him to his side, relieved when the human doesn’t fight or tense, instead he seems to melt into the embrace.

They walk like that for a while down the street, Zeb’s arm around Kallus’ shoulders, keeping him close, keeping him safe. The human doesn’t protest and he knows full well that if Kallus was annoyed he could easily escape, so he keeps his arm where it is, relishing in the physical contact without a clue how much the human is desperately enjoying it.

Kallus’ eyes shimmer with emotion, feeling impossibly content being so close to, being held by the man beside him, the comraderie, the connection, the friendship, perhaps even more…everything he so desperately craves. If only they could stay like this, if he could remain in Zeb’s arms, close to him, near enough to feel his warmth, maybe even press further into him, wrap his own arm around him, pull him even closer.

Suddenly, the lasat sniffs deeply once again, the motion bringing a soft smile to Kallus’ features, finding it endearing. “Smell that? The kids’ll love that!” He muses enthusiastically, removing his arm from Kallus’ shoulders and pulling him by the arm instead toward the sweet scent.

They watch as some sort of nuts are roasted before them in the vendor stall, a sweet-smelling substance being poured over them before they’re toasted a second time, caramelizing whatever it is coating them. Zeb eagerly orders two bags for the kids, then one for himself before asking for two more for Hera and Kanan, turning inquisitively to Kallus.

“I’m fine.” He assures with a soft chuckle, knowing he’d already indulged enough tonight and it’s highly frowned upon to keep such trivialities such as sweets tucked away in one’s Imperial quarters, it’s a sign of weakness.

He pays for the gifts anyway, not wanting Zeb to waste his limited rebel credits on such things. The lasat doesn’t complain, believing that it’s the Empire directly that’s paying for the night, which is partly true; it’s the Imperial credits Kallus had earned through years of hard work and devotion. But he’s not going to complain. He likes giving Zeb whatever he wants. Likes providing for him.

“Spectre 4 this is Spectre 1, what’s your position?” Kanan’s voice comes from the small comm on Zeb’s belt, startling both men from the comfortable daze they’d fallen into. Zeb looks to his companion, a sorrowful look on his face that’s met with an understanding half smile. “Spectre 1, I’m in the main street scoutin’ for gifts for the kids. Everythin’ alright?” He asks apprehensively, hoping to the ashla that Kallus’ men didn’t veer away toward his home.

“Our Intel was bad. We’ve detected enemy presence in the area. We need everyone home now.” He urges seriously, sounding rather worried which makes Zeb’s ears flatten down. He exchanges a look with Kallus who nods empathetically. “Be right back.” He says simply, securing the comm back to his belt before turning to his companion.

“Kanan is healed now, I presume?” Kallus says gently, cautiously as if second guessing whether he should mention it, which piques Zeb’s curiosity. “Healed but blind. But he’s got the force for seein’ now so he’s even more dangerous than before.” He explains, feeling quite proud of the human and his resilience.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad he’s been able to adapt…it’s good for you all. You’re stronger together.” Kallus notes gently, his languid voice sounding a bit odd, almost longing. “Yeah, good for the family to be back together again! Hopefully, you’ll be joinin’ us soon.” He adds, bumping his shoulder against Kallus’ yet again, the movement feeling quite natural.

“Perhaps.” Kallus says lightly, his voice heavy as something flashes across his eyes, gone too quickly for Zeb to decipher. He fights away the intense, nearly overwhelming desire to come back with him, abandon his post and join Zeb’s family. Yes, he’d done a lot of good but it’s not enough, there are too many horrors to make up for, so many that he’ll no doubt be caught as a spy before he can satisfy his debt.

“Well, thank you…for tonight, Zeb. It was…nice.” Kallus admits, looking rather unsure of himself as he says it. Zeb grins widely, winking cheekily at the human who’s suddenly gotten all prim and rigid again.

“Any time, goldie.” He smirks at the twisted expression Kallus gives him, finding it positively hilarious. “See ya next time, Kal and take care of yourself!” He adds warmly, batting his arm lightly before forcing himself to head back to the Ghost, feeling those golden eyes lingering on him until he turns down an alleyway out of sight. ******

Chapter 12: Coming Home

Chapter Text

It doesn’t take long for Zeb to find the Ghost, but he hesitates as he approaches feeling rather bad for not relaying to them earlier that Kallus had them covered. But Hera will understand, she always does. His fur suddenly stands on end, realizing that she may not appreciate how trusting he was tonight of the human.

He really did put their lives in Kallus’ hands without a second thought…the realization startles him less than it should. After all the man has done since Bahryn, how close Zeb has gotten to him, how well he can read the man, he really didn’t even consider that Kallus hadn’t actually been cloaking their ship. He trusts him with his life and apparently with the lives of his family. His heart warms even as his stomach twists with dread, knowing that Hera doesn’t hold the same level of trust for the agent.

But even though she may yell and be livid with him, tonight demonstrated just how trustworthy the human is! After all, he had the perfect opportunity to trap them and yet he’d done everything within his power to keep them hidden and safe from his own troopers. If that’s not enough to prove his loyalty to them then he’s not sure what will! He taps a sharp claw on the button to raise the ramp behind him, making sure it’s securely locked before heading deeper into the ship.

If he had told his family earlier, they surely would have called him immediately back and Kallus wouldn’t have been given the chance to prove himself. And more selfishly, he wouldn’t have been able to get to know him better. A smile pulls at his lips as he thinks about the human, finding him terribly interesting. What he’d learned of him over the last few hours only makes him want to know more, learn everything there is to know about the mysterious man.

He sets the bag of treats and the whisky on the counter in the galley, head swimming with those golden eyes when he hears Ezra call out ‘I take it your date went well?’. His ears twitch in opposite directions, his head co*cking sideways with confusion. Green eyes spot his family sitting in the living area in various states of comfort; Kanan and Hera looking rather rigid on the small stools beside the dejark table while Sabine and Ezra huddle loosely on the couch, elbowing one another conspiratorially.

“Your boyfriend was excited to see you tonight, huh big guy?” Sabine chides, eyebrow raised with a mischievous grin on her face as the lasat fully enters the room. He studies her with narrowed eyes until it hits him. Dreadful, cold understanding chills his bones as he realizes the eyes he’d felt on him all night belonged to the kids’.

“You…you were tailin’ me?” He growls, suddenly both mortified and livid with the pair who snicker and exchange an amused look. Kanan’s head tilts slightly to the side, expression neutral as he listens intently, wondering how much he’d missed over the last few months. “Zeb has a boyfriend now?” He asks Hera curiously, confused when the teens chuckle loudly in response. The twi’lek’s eyes narrow as she looks at the lasat, quickly putting things together and looking rather sour.

“No, I don’t! An you two, shouldn’t be sneakin’ around spyin’ on people! It’s not right!” Zeb growls irritably, jabbing a large, clawed finger at the two for good measure. His chest puffs out with anger as the teens grin up at him rather than cower obediently.

“You ran off like you had important business, figured we should give you back up.” Ezra shrugs nonchalantly, smirking devilishly while feigning innocence. “So how long have you two been dating anyway?” The little Mandalorian asks with a guiltless curiosity that wheedles under his fur.

“We’re…We’re NOT dating!!” Zeb growls heatedly, ears flattening to his head as his hands ball into fists. Behind the mask, Kanan’s brows furrow with confusion, feeling through the force Zeb’s fluttery excitement denoting a new romantic relationship yet hearing his outright refusal of his own feelings. In all the time that they’ve known each other, he’d never witnessed the lasat display romantic interest in another man. Does he feel ashamed to take a male partner? Are the kids’ making him feel worse about his feelings by teasing him?

“I dunno, you rushed off real quick to go have dinner with him.” Ezra chides easily, his eat sh*t grin making the fur on Zeb’s neck raise with irritation. Hera’s eyes grow wide, head co*cking to the side as she shoots a pointed look at her friend, hoping for his sake that isn’t true.

“And got frozen cream after, while wandering the street looking at all the vendor stalls. Looked a lot like an ideal sweet first date.” Sabine teases, the devilish smirk on her pretty face making his blood boil, the skin on his face burning with humiliation. It wasn’t like that! They are just friends who spent a nice night together…right? He pushes that thought away but the blind jedi catches it; feels the depth and confused tangle of feelings his friend has for this mystery man despite his own unwillingness to admit it.

“Ran into him is all. Didn’t plan to meet up with Kal.” He seethes, feeling painfully exposed and vulnerable, like everything he says can be twisted against him. “Kal?? You’ve already given him a nickname?” Ezra taunts, eyes wide with delight. “I believe it’s called a petname between romantic partners.” Sabine amends casually, smirking as the teen doubles over in laughter.

As she glances toward the lasat, Sabine’s smile falters, biting back the taunt she was about to add, instead a flicker of guilt passing over her beautiful features at how distraught he looks. “Zeb…I…” She begins softly but is cut off immediately by the twi’lek beside her who practically vibrates with anger.

“You ran into Kallus and didn’t notify us?? If he’s planetside then the Empire is too!! Why didn’t you warn us that Imperials are in the city? The kids, Kanan, and I could’ve been caught! Zeb what were you thinking??” Hera reprimands irately, nearly beside herself. Zeb’s ears flatten as his shoulders raise, feeling like a kit being scolded in class.

The kids instantly bite their tongues, having not thought twice about it even as they’d tailed him earlier, too amused to worry about whether the agent was double-crossing them. He’d just seemed so sincerely happy to be around Zeb.

“Like I said, didn’t mean to, just…he found me and asked how long we’d be here. Our cloaking frequency doesn’t work planetside so he’s cloudin’ it for us, he just needed to know how long to keep us hidden.” Zeb accounts, trying his best to sound innocent while kicking himself for not telling them sooner. He’d just wanted to spend time with the human.

“Why didn’t you tell us that earlier?? We should’ve left hours ago!” Hera asks, eyes widening as her voice deepens with worry. “Cause Kallus redirected his troopers to the other side a the city. We wouldn’ta been spotted or found. Didn’t see a problem with it at the time.” He answers honestly, feeling slighted under her scrutinizing glare.

Hera’s expression falters, putting the pieces together and confirming that if Kallus had intended on playing a long game, tonight would’ve been a perfect opportunity to attack, but he didn’t…yet again. Kanan however, hasn’t been with them over the last few months.

“Wait, what?!” Kanan demands seriously, appearing nearly horrified with apprehension even with the mask covering half his face. Zeb’s ears flatten against his head, dread pooling in his stomach. “You let us stay here with Imperial troops roaming the city so you could have dinner with Kallus?? Agent Kallus?” He presses accusatorily, the disturbed shock in his tone disarming the lasat. The crew stare in shock, rarely seeing the jedi get so upset. Even Hera is taken aback.

“Garazeb Orrelios! We just had a near death experience with someone who shouldn’t have ever been trusted!” He all but shouts, the words lingering over them like a ghost sending a chill down their spines. Ezra grimaces as his bright eyes lower to the floor, guilt still eating at him for his misjudgment that’d nearly cost his family their lives. The fact that Kanan so blatantly brandishes that fact around the kid making Zeb’s fur stand on end, his fangs grinding with anger.

“And you immediately go to hang out with someone who’s been hunting us for over a year?!? Someone we shouldn’t readily trust!!!!” He seethes, body practically trembling with fury. “You put your family’s lives on the line to trust Agent Kallus? Do you have any idea how insane that even sounds?! He nearly killed you, Zeb! Why in the galaxy would you put our lives in his hands?!” He presses making the lasat shrink back for a moment before he grits his teeth, anger boiling his blood.

“You haven’t been around, haven’t seen ‘em, haven’t seen what he’s done for the family, all the risks he’s taken to keep us alive and outta trouble. He’s changed, asked questions and figured out he was on the wrong side. He’s been spyin’ for us for months now, since before you and Ezra left for your jedi mission! Ahsoka’s the one who recruited him, she trusted him, and I do too.” Zeb states firmly, unwavering even under his friend’s scrutiny.

“You trust Agent Kallus. Zeb have you lost your mind!?” Kanan growls, feeling as if everything that just came together is falling back apart. Seeing the two irate men about to have an all-out argument on her ship in front of the kids, Hera puts a hand on the jedi’s shoulder both to comfort and to hold him back.

“Love, I know how it sounds but I promise you, it’s not as big a deal as you think it is. There’s a lot you’ve missed that I should have debriefed you on before you jumped back in. It’ll all make sense when I explain it. Come on, let’s go calm down and I’ll fill you in.” Hera soothes, in a commanding tone, rising and pulling on his hand to guide him to his room. “Hera!” He argues angrily, unrelenting in his stance on the matter.

“Kanan!” She repeats, her voice becoming unwaveringly stern. He knows when she uses that tone that she has a good reason to be stubborn and so he begrudgingly yields, following her back to his bunk for a thorough explanation as to what is going on with his best friend and his nemesis. Zeb’s shoulders sag as he hears the door slide shut, feeling odd, cold, and alone despite the kids in the room looking at him with sorrowful expressions.

“Don’. Jus save it.” He dismisses, waving them and their pity off before taking a deep breath to cool his hot temper. The lasat lumbers miserably into the galley, placing both hands on the counter and hanging his head as he sighs. He loathes the lingering, unresolved tension and irritation between he and Kanan. It’d been years since they’d last fought and that time they’d settled within hours, neither wanting to harbor anger towards the other for long.

Green eyes glance over the whisky and gifts, all the mirth he’d felt when he was with Kallus gone, leaving his stomach feeling like a void. Wanting to feel that happiness again, he quickly opens the Rhodian whisky and pours himself a large glass. The smell brings a sad smile to his face as he pictures the human’s delight when he’d found the stall. He takes a long sip, the liquid warming his insides, making him feel a fraction as comfortable as he’d been in Kallus’ company. After two more long sips, he tops off the glass once more before turning to the living area.

He hesitates a moment, deciding to stay with the kids instead of holing up miserably in his bunk. Before leaving the galley, Zeb grabs the bag of treats, discarding it carelessly on the dejark table. He groans as he settles on the couch, his demeanor glum enough to ward off any jibes the kids might have for him. Sabine quietly slides beside him, her miniscule weight barely registered by his massive form. She smiles sheepishly up at him, pressing her arm into his as a silent ‘sorry’.

“Ya ain’t sneakin’ none of this.” He warns brusquely, taking a sip to hide the tiny smile tugging at his lips, unable to be fully angry with the little Mandalorian he’s so fond and protective of. “Especially you!” He growls as Ezra sneaks in on his other side, fully able to be livid with the brash kid.

“Wasn’t dreaming of it!” Ezra says placatingly, holding up his hands and smiling guiltily. The kid’s vulnerable look irks his protective nature strongly enough that he pulls him to his side just like he pulls Sabine into the other, drawing comfort in keeping them tucked in close and safe.

“If I’d thought for a second you lot were in danger, I’d of comm’d immediately.” He assures firmly, feeling miserable that his desire to protect his family would ever be questioned. The Mandalorian wraps her arm around his massive one holding her close, resting her head on his broad shoulder and sighing.

“Zeb, neither of us were worried. We all know you’d never put any of us in danger! We’re not upset with you. I just…I just want you to be happy.” Sabine adds more gently than usual, her words carrying more meaning than she’s letting on. “Sabine’s right, we didn’t even think twice when we saw you with him. I guess after everything he’s done for us all as Fulcrum we both kinda trust him too.” Ezra adds gently, his usually smug tone humble and kind, the way it gets when he’s trying to empathize or connect with someone.

“Yeah, tell that to Kanan.” Zeb grumbles irritably, taking another long sip of his whisky, the taste bringing Kallus’ golden eyes shimmering with delight to the forefront of his mind. The thought of how vehemently his best friend disapproved of him draws a low growl from him, rumbling quietly in his throat. Hearing the angry sound, Ezra’s stomach squirms with unease.

“Please don’t be mad at him Zeb. He’s trying to protect everyone and is just worried. He means well, he’s just…not been around.” He finishes weakly, the complexity of the pain in his voice making the lasat’s heart ache. He pulls the kid in firmly, squeezing him roughly before releasing him to nurse his now sore ribs.

“I know kid, it’s jus’, me an him haven’t had it out in years. Hate being at odds with family, gets under my fur.” He admits roughly, taking another sip to dull the distress in his chest. “Hera will smooth things over. She always does. Just give her some time.” Sabine soothes, rubbing her cheek against the soft fur on his shoulder before smiling up at him, having learned that lasat gesture of affection long ago and knowing how much it means to him.

The gentle act melts his frustration, pulling a warm grin from him as he rubs his cheek against the top of her head like his father would do to him as a kit. He sighs heavily, amazed at how much better he feels. The unease of an unresolved fight lingering in his heart but pushed to the back as he settles with the two kids he’s become so fond of.

“What’s in the bag anyway?” Ezra asks, changing the subject and earning an exaggerated eyeroll from the lasat. “Ya been spyin’ on me all night, you should know!” Zeb chides, rolling his eyes before retrieving the discarded bag on the table.

His large hand rummages through the bag, tossing the teens one package each of the treat he’d, well Kallus, had bought them. Ezra tries tearing into it, nearly ripping the bag in two until Zeb snatches it back from him, using his sharp claw to cut it open. Sabine gently grabs his other hand, carefully using his claw to neatly slice her bag open. He bumps his shoulder against hers, a warm grin on his face as he watches her chew a nut, a large smile gracing her face, savoring the sweet and salty treat.

“Woah, this is the best thing ever!” Ezra says through a mouth packed too full of nuts, eyes wide with delight. “Calm down kid, ya only have so much!” Zeb warns, tying the bag with his, Hera, and Kanan’s portions tightly, stashing it away safely out of the teen’s reach in the galley. His ears twitch up as he turns, spotting the Mandalorian sneaking a sip of his whisky, her eyes growing wide with the sweet taste. “Woah, this stuff is good!” She says innocently, ignoring his reproving look.

He quickly snatches his glass out of her reach, ears flattening as he gives her a sharp look. “What? I’m 18 now, technically I can drink.” She reasons casually, grinning at the lasat who rolls his eyes, head co*cking to the side as he fixes her with a stern expression. “Yeah well, after all that teasin’ I’m not too keen on sharin’.” He chides lightly, crossing his arms as she pouts.

“Just be more like ‘Kal’ and he’ll give you anything you want.” Ezra teases earning a hard punch to the arm from the lasat. “Light up the dajark table kid. I’mma wipe the floor with ya.” Zeb growls threateningly, grinning devilishly as the teen preps the table, eager for a little payback.

Despite his own words, he pours Sabine a small glass of the precious whisky, smirking as Ezra whines a jealous ‘hey, no fair’. ******

‘He took me out to dinner, well, technically I took him out I suppose…trivialities! He asked me to have dinner with him and touched me…repeatedly, called it a date or was that me…nevertheless! He put his arm around me!! That has to mean something!’ Kallus’ thoughts reel impatiently as he waits for information to load on the data pad in his hands. He exhales heavily, absently looking around his quarters as he waits.

He’d triple encrypted the channel so that no other being alive will be able to see what he’s searching, despite that he still feels nervous but more so for what he’ll find. He sighs, taking a sip of the Rhodian whisky that makes him grin, remembering the reaction it'd gotten from the handsome lasat. Golden eyes snap back to the data pad as the results finally appear, quickly narrowing in frustration.

‘Nothing?!? Ok…maybe ‘lasat courting rituals’?’ Quickly typing in the new search, he takes another sip to pass the time, eyes lighting with relief as a few articles appear on the screen.
“Hm…not much. They really were under the radar.’ He thinks, disappointment unable to fully stifle the flutter in his chest. He eagerly soaks in what little information is available to him, wanting to know everything about the species. As he studies the scant articles, he absently takes another sip from his drink, the liquid warming his insides.

“Scenting? What’s that now…oh. Ok, that’s…probably far more enjoyable than this makes it sound.” He muses lightly to himself, voice nearly a whisper even in the solitude of his own quarters. He shifts on the rigid bed, stretching his long legs out as it occurs to him; he’d told Zeb he smells good, the lasat had acted a bit flattered possibly flustered afterward.

Had Zeb taken that as a come on? His heart flutters at the possibility. If the massive lasat did, it’s a good sign that he didn’t smother the human on the spot. Could that mean he is interested in him romantically? Is it healthy to consider ‘not killing him’ a good indication that Zeb might like him? He shakes his head at himself, wondering for the millionth time just how messed up he truly is.
But the flutter in his belly as he conjures the memory of the lasat’s reaction renews his delicate hope. Perhaps, it is just a case of different cultures and species having different courting habits and rituals resulting in misunderstandings as they try to flirt. An excited grin plays at his lips, he bites the bottom one to control it, but it doesn’t go away.

“Soooo, scenting.” He hums quietly, memorizing the methods and signals displayed before a couple engages in the act. Simple rubbing of one’s cheeks on another, the scent glands along the jaw releasing pheromones that scent their partner or loved one (depends on where they rub). ‘Well, humans don’t have scent glands there but that shouldn’t be a big problem.’ He muses, imagining the intimidating lasat coming close, rubbing the fur of his cheeks and jaw along his own before bringing their foreheads together.

His heart flutters madly and he forces himself to focus on the rest of the article before he gets himself too worked up. ‘Protective and possessive behaviors are displayed by lasat with their loved ones. Prone to jealousy and angry outbursts when another being shows too much interest in the mate they’re courting and vice versa.’ He considers briefly feigning interest in someone just to see how Zeb would react but the thought of hurting the lasat makes his stomach turn.

‘Sharing things they find enjoyable with those they’re interested in courting.’ His golden eyes shimmer in the dim light, timid smile growing wide as he thinks of all the things Zeb enjoyed that he’d shared with him just hours ago. And he’d unwittingly done the same when he’d encouraged Zeb to try the whisky. He smiles conspiratorially at the glass before taking a generous sip, in better spirits than he’d been in months.

‘Lasat are known to be highly physical beings, touching, holding hands, and caressing are normal behaviors but are increased in frequency or prolonged with those they are courting.’ He has to take a deep breath to steady himself, wanting to jump into an escape pod this instant to rush back to the lasat who’d had his arm around him for nearly half an hour. He reprimands himself for feeling so giddy over the mere idea that Zeb may be interested in him.

He sighs, forcing himself back to reality. The lasat has every reason to hate him, he’d helped destroy his home planet after all. How could he ever love him? He’s an honorable man, he deserves someone much better than an ex-ISB agent turned spy. With all the things he’s done…if Zeb ever knew…would he be able to look at him the same way again? And if he were to never tell him, isn’t that fooling him? Making him fall in love with the parts of him he’s willing to let him see but keeping the worst parts of him hidden.

The shimmer in his eyes dampen at the dismal thoughts, taking a large sip of whisky to dull it. ‘Maybe…maybe he can…can see me as I am and still…’ The hopeful thought is quieted by years of realism. It’s not likely but then again, the lasat did forgive him…extended friendship to him…is it beyond him to be able to…

A long sigh escapes him, finding it not fair to ask such things of the man who’d already lost so much, endured more than he should have had to. He feels that odd pull in his chest once more, almost like a longing but different.

‘Time will tell.’ He resigns, allowing both realism and optimism to make their homes in his chest as he preoccupies his mind with the remaining information on the data pad. He chokes on the whisky as golden eyes pick up the words ‘mating’ and ‘unsheathing process’ cheeks instantly burning. Feeling it far too inappropriate to research such things about the honorable man’s species, he turns the pad off, the screen darkening as he tosses it onto the bed as if burned.

Refilling his drink, he stares at the wall ahead, pointedly avoiding the discarded data pad staring up at him, tempting him to satisfy his burning curiosity. ‘No! Absolutely not! If I were to look at such things, how could I ever look Zeb in the face again?? Especially if he is only interested in being friends.’ He reasons firmly with himself. ‘He’s the most honorable man I know, how would he feel if he found out?’

“No.” He says sternly to the datapad, jabbing his pointer finger at it as if reprimanding the device. The glare he gives it is firm and untrusting, lingering longer than necessary as if trying to make a point to the inanimate object. Finding himself ridiculous, he shakes his head at himself.

He takes a long sip and searches the ceiling, mind roaming back to the lasat’s arm draped around his shoulders pulling his body in close. He can almost still feel the warmth of the man against him, can feel the soft fur as it brushed against the few areas where his skin had been exposed. The thought draws a smile to his lips, a deep longing burning in his chest.

His thoughts become fuzzy after a few more long sips, resolution faltering as the light glimmers off the tempting data pad. ‘Oh, what can it hurt?’ He reasons, rolling his eyes as he recovers the data pad. **********

Chapter 13: A Solo Mission

Chapter Text

The lasat yawns deeply sinking into the couch and stealing a glance at Kanan’s still closed door before sipping on his coffee. It’d been 4 days since he’d last seen the jedi…since their ‘disagreement’. Hera had assured him again and again that Kanan is cautiously open to giving Kallus a chance and that he’s not angry at Zeb but his reclusive behavior doesn’t sit right with him. He sighs heavily, still feeling disgruntled with the whole thing. He rubs the fur on his face, trying to wake himself up.

“Mornin’.” He greets groggily to the bright haired teen yawning her way into the living area to slump on the couch against him, Ezra trailing in a moment later looking like he’s sleepwalking. “Go get yer own!” He chides, pulling his coffee away from the Mandalorian trying to wheedle it from his large hands.

“Too tired.” She groans, dramatically collapsing against his side which makes him chuckle. It’s nice seeing her drop her guard and be playful instead of deadly focused and serious. His mind wanders to the agent who he loves seeing drop his guard too, stomach clenching as his eyes roam to Kanan’s door once again.

With a loud ‘huff’ Ezra slumps into the couch, stealing Zeb’s attention for just a moment, the Mandalorian taking the opportunity to try to swipe his mug again. “Ya don’ even like how I make it.” He chastises lightly, the chuckle in his voice giving him away. “That’s true, don’t know how you drink it black like that.” She agrees, losing interest in his coffee. “Gross.” Ezra adds sleepily, rubbing at his face to wake up.

Suddenly, they realize that the jedi master is standing above them, jolting Zeb nearly out of his own fur and earning startled yelps from the teens. How in the galaxy does he move so silently?? And since when has he been there?! He hadn’t even heard the door slide open! “Kanan! Ya…ya scared me there. Ya alright?” Zeb asks, regaining his composure and willing his heart rate to slow.

“Zeb, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry that I reacted the way that I did. I know you’d never put our family in unnecessary danger and I should never have accused you of it.” Kanan says sincerely in a voice filled with regret that eases the knot that’s been twisting in Zeb’s stomach the last few days. “It’s alright, ya missed a lot that we shoulda filled ya in on earlier. Sorry to scare ya!” He dismisses easily, unable to remain angry with his best friend for long.

“Well, Hera explained it all to me. I understand now.” Kanan states, sounding even more stoic and serene than before his vision had been taken. Something in his tone makes Zeb’s ears twitch, eyes narrowing as his head co*cks to the side. He gets the strange feeling that the jedi is looking straight through him or that he knows more than he’s letting on. The thought makes his stomach clench for some reason, as if he has some secret that he’s not even privy to.

Kanan senses the unease in his friend, suggesting that he’s not ready to fully disclose or discuss how he really feels about his ex-nemesis. Perhaps he’s not even sure of his own feelings? He’d detected the lasat’s confusing, wrestling emotions over the last few days as he’d meditated deeply, trying to gain clarity on how to proceed. Deciding to let Zeb come to him when he’s ready, he takes a deep breath and moves to the next topic on his list.

“Speaking of which, I wanted to let you know, that I am willing to give Kallus a chance but I would like to speak with him next time we run into him. There’s a technique I’d like to employ to feel out his intentions. I haven’t been here, haven’t witnessed his actions myself; that would give me peace of mind.” He explains solemnly, the words making Zeb’s stomach turn slightly but he nods anyway before remembering that his friend can’t see the gesture. “Mn.” He hums instead, thoughts too jumbled in his drowsy state to come up with a good response.

“Wait we can do that?” Ezra interrupts excitedly, snapping from his half-asleep state with rapt attention to his master. “It takes much discipline, more than you’ve cultivated so far.” He chides playfully, the smirk on his face warm and fond. Sabine chuckles at the jab and the pout it draws from Ezra.

“In any case, the next time you run into him Zeb, please comm me. I would like to confirm what everyone’s leaning toward myself.” Kanan resumes cautiously, not wanting to further upset his already ruffled friend.

The word choice rubs Zeb the wrong way, believing his family is already more than ‘leaning’ but he lets it go, wanting to be on good terms again. “Don’ know when that’ll be, but I’ll let ya know if we have a run in.” He drawls, watching as Hera slips into the room to the galley and the small smile her presence draws from the jedi.

“Thanks, Big Guy.” Kanan says amiably, his warm smile making Zeb’s chest loosen with relief as well. He takes another sip of coffee, relishing the clear air between them. “Who ate the last yogan tart?” Hera asks irritably, holding up the empty box that’d been left in the cabinet. “Not me.” Zeb growls, he’d learned long ago not to leave empty rations boxes about. “I don’t eat those.” Sabine says easily, sneaking a sip of Zeb’s coffee before grimacing against the bitter taste.

“Mwap wap mmmwapp mwap.” Chopper drones suddenly, rolling over to Hera with his little astromech arms waving eagerly about, clearly excited about something. “He did what?!” She snarls, looking to Ezra with stunned anger as her hands come to her sides. The teen shrinks back arguing a firm ‘did not!’ as the droid laughs happily, delighted to tattle on the kid.

Zeb’s ears twitch in opposite directions, not understanding binary but piecing together that the kid did something bad. Seeing his confusion Sabine leans in close to fill him in. “Chop says Ezra ate 5 tarts in one sitting then left the box after he warned him Hera would be upset.” Zebs eyebrows shoot up in surprise, finding it both impressive that the kid could eat so many in one sitting and irritating that he’d do so.

“No, I didn’t!” Ezra argues angrily, wincing in apology to the twi’lek as the astromech replays the interaction on a hologram. Hera crosses her arms, fixing the teen with her most unyielding and stern expression. “What? I’m a growing boy!” He reasons weakly, his stomach rumbling in agreement.

“Doesn’t mean you get to scarf down half the rations aboard! And keeping the boxes in the cabinets makes it appear like we have more when I try to do inventory! I can’t believe I’m still trying to drill that into you!” She reprimands, upset not only with his behavior and lie but that she didn’t get to have even one of the yummy tarts.

“Ok, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.” Ezra grumbles irritably, crossing his arms and sinking further into the couch, ready for the lecture to be over. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy! You’re going on a supply run, by yourself.” She presses firmly, pulling out her data pad to compile a list.

“Take the ‘temporary phantom’ General Sato let us borrow to the Aldarri supply port, it’s not far, used mainly by transport ships passing by to restock. Make sure you get everything on this list young man.” She explains sternly, giving him a sharp look as he grumbles. She turns on her heel back to the co*ckpit with Chopper in tow, beeping happily in binary and chuckling.

Ezra glares at the little droid, stifling the desire to throttle the glorified trash can. Instead, he sighs heavily, putting on his best pathetic, puppydog eyes. “Sabine, you wanna come keep me company?” He asks hopefully, turning to the unsympathizing teen who shakes her head with a smirk.

“Sorry, got a new project I’m working on that I’m pretty excited about.” She explains simply, her voice taking on that tone she gets when she’s passionately talking about art. Disappointed but not deterred, Ezra turns expectantly to Zeb, frowning when the massive lasat shakes his head. “Sorry kid, that ship’s too small for me. Won’t fit the two a us an supplies.” He reasons, looking forward to some alone time in his own bunk.

“Think Hera would kill me if I came along. You’re on your own on this one, kid.” Kanan says with a grin, shrugging at the teen before rising to make some coffee. “Ugh, you’re the worst.” Ezra groans miserably to everyone, begrudgingly setting off toward the ‘temporary phantom’ after grabbing two breakfast ration bars. ******

Bright green eyes scan the stars before her, roaming down to the time keeper and narrowing with worry as she finds that yet another hour has passed. He should’ve been back by now. Guilt rises in her stomach up to her throat making it hard to swallow. “He’ll be ok, Hera, it’s just a simple supply run. Rebel intelligence said the area is completely clear of any Imperial activity right now.” Kanan assures calmly, sliding into the seat beside her after handing her a cup of her favorite soothing tea.

She smiles at the affectionate gesture, watching her partner’s serene expression and wishing she could see those beautiful eyes once more. They’d always been able to calm her when she got like this. “I wish so too.” He says quietly, his voice heavy with loss. Her eyes snap open wide, mouth opening with disbelief. “Did you just…read my mind??” She asks, feeling affronted by the invasion of privacy. Yes, she’s shared everything with him, including her body but never did she give him permission to sneak into her mind.

“No, I can sense your emotions, I just put the pieces together.” Kanan explains calmly, adding quickly “I’d never read your mind without consent. Don’t think that’s safe for me.” He teases lightly, earning a soft punch on the arm. A sudden beep of an incoming transmission interrupts their moment…as always! Hera taps a few buttons on the console before a small holo of Ezra appears, his face twisted with worry.

“Hera! Kanan! The area is crawling with imps! They’ve got a lock on my ship, I can’t…” The tiny Ezra disappears, the audio fizzling out as the transmission is jammed. Goosebumps raise all over her body, blood freezing with terror as her breath catches.

Dread fills her stomach and chest, sickening guilt making her vision blur for a moment. She’d sent her child alone into the Empire’s clutches. No back up, no way of easily retrieving him. In a daze, she notices Kanan tapping on the console, a small holo of Rex sparking to life. She hears his serious voice as he explains to the captain what happened and that they need help with an immediate extraction. *******

It's risky to say the least. Without any way of pinpointing which of the numerous Imperial ships in the area Ezra’s on, they have take a stab in the dark and assume it’s the one closest to them. If they infiltrate and find it’s not the right ship…then they’ll keep trying? Not a great plan. Beside him, Rex reminds him as much.

But the plan is the best they could come up with in the time they had. Kanan adjusts the stormtrooper armor confining him, feeling warm and sweaty within it. Chopper notifies them that they’re getting close, more for Kanan’s sake as he can’t visually confirm, only feeling through the force the massive ship before them.

“Done this a million times, you an me. We’ll be alright, even if it’s a sh*t plan.” Rex says confidently, his stable demeanor putting the Jedi at ease. He takes a deep breath as Chopper announces whose ship they’re infiltrating. “Agent Kallus. That’s incriminating, huh.” Rex muses darkly, giving Kanan a look before remembering it’s futile.

“If he really is on our side and has Ezra, then why hasn’t he reached out?” He all but growls, trying to keep his anger in check but his worry for his padawan is too great. He takes a steadying breath, trying to let go of his attachments and think clearly. It’s just so hard to do when it comes to those you love.

“Maybe he doesn’t have the kid?” Rex suggests, shrugging as his head tilts slightly. He’d been very cautious to trust the agent after finding from the Ghost Crew months ago that he was acting as Fulcrum but the man hadn’t missed a beat since, giving him no reason to continue doubting him. But he’s a soldier after all, he doesn’t lower his guard that easily.

“Maybe. He might be trying to find a way to get Ezra off his ship. Or he might be setting a trap.” Kanan says thoughtfully, one hand stroking his beard as he remembers how serious Hera was when she told him about that night she’d been transported to ISB only to have Kallus help her get back. His stomach tightens at the thought of her in such a mess.

“Right, well let’s get to the bottom of it, eh?” Rex says in a playful and conspiratorial way, putting on his helmet after landing the stolen imperial ship. With Kanan’s jedi mind tricks, they easily make their way inside the star destroyer, Chop plugging into the system and confirming he can’t access the prisoner records from here. “Ok, well can you locate where we can access that information?” Kanan presses firmly, trying to control his frustration and fear. Chop mumbles a few profanities before rolling quickly down the sterile hallway.

They march behind him, returning every salute as if it’s natural. Thankfully, it’s very early in the rotation so the troopers don’t appear to be on high alert as of yet, all their small slip ups going unnoticed. “Chop, where are you taking us? This isn’t a control center!” Kanan hisses, the force telling him this area isn’t for work so much as rest.

The droid stops before a door, plugging into the command port beside it when it doesn’t automatically open; locked most likely. “Are you cross wired? These are private quarters.” Rex hisses, voice deepening with impatience. The droid mutters another profanity, ignoring the two humans as his mech arm twirls in the port until it relents.

The door slides open, revealing Agent Kallus, gold eyes wide as he stares at the troopers standing in his doorway. His features are blank for a few moments, the sight of him with a toothbrush in his mouth standing at the small sink in his under shirt and shorts with hair falling in his face would be comical had the situation not been so serious. Recognizing the droid, Kallus rolls his eyes, removing the toothbrush from his mouth to ask tiredly “what is it now?”.

Kanan steps into the small room, Chop and Rex following suit until the door slides closed behind them. “Where’s Ezra?” He demands, his voice firm and unwavering holding more than a hint of threat that catches the agent off guard. Kallus’ brows knit and he takes a cautious step away from the jedi, toothbrush still in hand.

“Excuse me?” He counters, irritation rising at having been barged in on while barely clothed and accused of what, imprisoning a teen? ‘Though, to be fair…I’ve done it before.’ He forces the thought away after it dampens his anger.

Kanan raises his hand slowly an invisible force pinning Kallus to the back wall of his own room, locking him in place and making it rather hard to take a full, deep breath. “Where is Ezra? What have you done with him?” He repeats more firmly, keeping his anger in check. “Kanan, easy now.” Rex advises placatingly, not wanting the noble jedi to go attacking a man armed with only a toothbrush.

“I’ve not done anything to Bridger! Check the prisoner records, I don’t have him.” Kallus argues, nodding his head to the port beside the small desk. Chop plugs himself in, rummaging through the information for a few long moments.

Kanan returns his focus to the man before him while he waits for the droid to finish. Taking a deep breath, he opens his mind to feel what the agent is feeling, digging deeper until he feels resistance. “Wha…what are you doing??” Kallus hisses, a note of panic in his voice at the uncomfortable feeling of being invaded somehow.

He'd been trained to withstand jedi mind tricks but this isn’t an assault on his mind rather it feels like fingers reaching into his chest. Kanan pulls back having not found anything suspicious or blaringly incriminating. After Chopper confirms that there’s no record of any recent prisoners being brought aboard, the jedi releases the man who stumbles slightly forward before regaining his footing and composure.

“Would one of you kindly tell me what the kriff is going on?” He asks, irritation mixing with feigned politeness as he glares at his unwelcome guests. As of late, he’s been trying his best to show respect and kindness to the Ghost Crew but when his privacy is invaded and one tries to violate him in whatever the kriff that was…well, a bit of anger is in due order.

“Ezra was on a supply run in the area, got picked up by an imperial ship. We don’t know which one though.” Rex explains with all the discipline and succinctness of a soldier. “So, you immediately assumed it was me?” Kallus offers tiredly, unable to blame them for it but finding it rather bothersome.

“Took a wild guess that he’d be on the one closest to us.” Kanan says flatly, his tone tepid rather than hostile. “If you’re really a Fulcrum agent now, maybe you can help us locate him?” Rex suggests in a firm yet amiable tone, giving the agent a chance to prove himself.

“What are his last known coordinates?” Kallus asks, his expression softening greatly. Chopper mutters the coordinates to the agent who punches them into his data pad, eyes widening instantly.

“Are you out of your mind?? There’s an Imperial delegate being transported through that region today. The security in the entire region is impenetrable! Any ship within a parsec of the delegate will be apprehended without question. Why did you send him to the Aldarri outpost??” Kallus spouts, nearly beside himself with the recklessness of the rebels. Chopper drabbles at him in a conspiratorial tone, making the agent’s eyes grow wide.

“For yogan tarts????” The agent is in utter disbelief, staring in horror at the jedi and trooper before him. “Not just for yogan tarts, it was a lesson for Ezra.” Kanan argues weakly, realizing as the words spill out that they don’t explain anything.

“You sent him out alone to an area heavily fortified by Imperial star destroyers to get yogan tarts as a lesson?! Safe to assume you sent him and Wren into ISB Headquarters during the quarterly meeting for a meiluron cake? They’re just kids! How could you be so reckless with them?!” Kallus reprimands, downright aghast at the irresponsibility of the adults in charge of the teens’ care.

Kanan’s brows furrow as he picks up on the agent’s deep concern, worry even for the kids. ‘That’s interesting.’ He muses, deciding to tuck that away to meditate on later. “Our intel said the area is devoid of imperial presence and that the ISB headquarters would be left relatively unguarded for off-site meetings.” Rex bites back, finding the lecture distasteful.

“Where are you getting your intel?” Kallus counters suspiciously, temper faltering as it dawns on him that it isn’t irresponsibility nor recklessness, well, anymore than their usual amount of recklessness. Their sudden appearance on a planet he’d been sent to investigate, the kids’ dangerous infiltration of the ISB headquarters, and now Ezra heading straight into an Imperial transport. It’s a pattern not a coincidence.

A thick silence settles over the men as they all consider the same unpleasant suspicion, each finding it very much worrisome. “Let’s worry about that later. Right now, we need to find out what ship Ezra is being held on. Kallus, can you help us?” Kanan asks, the almost friendly note in his tone surprising Kallus to the core.

Not ten minutes ago, he’d thrust him against the wall using that mysterious invisible force and tried to wiggle…something from him. But now is not the time to stand and wonder if the jedi is actually of sound mind, not when the teen is in danger. The agent quickly taps on his data pad, shuffling through the information gained from his slice program, giving him access to all transmissions until he finds one of a prisoner arrest.

“Yes. He’s not far from here but the ship is on the outskirts of the delegate entourage. There’s no way they’ll let two troopers aboard without suspicion.” He says, bringing his hand to his chin as his mind quickly assesses every viable option.

“Can’t we get landing codes and just jedi mind trick our way through?” Rex suggests simply, shrugging for good measure. It’s worked every other time!

“Not in this situation, no. Any lone ship requesting permission to land without high-level credentials will be shot down on sight. But I may have another way.” Kallus announces, feeling more confident in his plan as he pieces it together.

“But I can’t go like this without raising suspicion, so if you don’t mind.” He adds, motioning to his underclothing on his body and hinting for them to exit the room. “Oh no, I’m keeping tabs on you til this is over. Not like Kanan can see ya anyway.” Rex argues casually, firmly standing his ground but turning to give the man a bit of privacy.

Kallus doesn’t argue, knowing the two men have no reason to really trust him not to send a signal out the moment he’s alone, so he dresses himself as quickly as he can. After slicking his hair back and pulling on his boots, he leads the troopers down the hallway. “Do not salute.” He hisses over his shoulder, seeing a troop of soldiers marching down the hallway who all respectfully salute him, the agent looking past them as if unseeing.

“Agent Kallus, sir. The newest data pad is ready.” An officer greets politely, bowing slightly as he offers his superior the device filled with new information. “Leave it in my office. I have business that needs seeing to. Anything substantial to report?” He asks, his tone lazy and unbothered.

“No, sir. It’s been a quiet night on board.” The officer reports seriously, tucking the data pad behind his back for safe keeping. “And the delegate transport in the region?” Kallus asks casually, almost as an afterthought, eyebrows raising as the young man utters a quiet ‘delayed, sir’.

“Delayed?” He repeats, only now feigning interest as he turns to the officer who stands even more stiffly as if worried he will be held personally accountable for whatever mishap caused the delay. “Yes, sir. The delegate is running late. The ships haven’t been able to move from the region.”

“Politicians.” Kallus chastises lazily, shaking his head with disapproval. The young officer breathes a sigh of intense relief, nodding in agreement at his commanding officer with grateful eyes. “Very well, thank you.” Kallus dismisses, ignoring the man’s salute and continuing down the corridor.

After a few long moments, he enters the communications room, tapping lightly at the command console. A holo of a rather large, older man dressed in a slightly too tight uniform appears before the agent, a look of respect and fatigue on his weathered face. “Agent Kallus, what can I do for you?” He asks gruffly, his voice sounding rather tired.

“Commander Faurn, it’s come to my attention that you have a prisoner aboard that needs questioning. I have orders to relieve you of the prisoner immediately to handle it myself. You have more than enough on your plate with the delegate transport.” He adds with a sympathetic note in his serious tone that seems to be deeply appreciated by the lower ranking officer.

“That is a relief! The prisoner has not been easily managed and as you’ve said, I have far too many other things to worry about. I will transmit the landing codes so you can retrieve him immediately. Thank you, Agent Kallus.” He adds, sounding painfully tired. Behind the helmet Kanan smiles with pride and amusem*nt, knowing his padawan has probably escaped multiple times and given the man a terrible time.

“It is my pleasure.” Kallus soothes, giving a respectful slight bow of his head before terminating the holo. “You two, ready the ship. Droid, copy the landing codes and follow me.” He commands, turning to Rex then to Chopper, keeping up appearances in front of the workers within the room. Once out in the hallway, Kallus turns to speak to Kanan over his shoulder.

“Standard protocol is to bring a minimum of 4 troopers for a prisoner transfer. I need you to trust me.” He says firmly, his insides burning with apprehension that the jedi will choose not to. Kanan simply nods once, a curt and rigid movement displaying his distaste with the idea. For all he knows, Kallus could be walking them directly into a trap.

The ride to the massive cruiser is tense, the two additional troopers enlisted remaining silent in front of their superior who calmly watches them land the shuttle. Kallus’ eyes widen for a moment as he spots the very disquieting figure of Governor Pryce walking toward his ship, mind reeling as he thinks of a way to wiggle out of this.

“Something wrong?” Kanan whispers, sensing the sudden rush of freezing dread within the agent. “Yes. I’ll distract her. Find the boy and get yourselves out.” He says under his breath, heart pounding in his chest while his features school into a perfectly neutral if not overly proud expression.

“You two stay with the ship. You two with me.” He commands naturally, the two extra troopers saluting obediently without question as Kanan and Rex follow the ISB agent. Kallus confidently strides down the landing ramp with two troopers in tow, standing at attention as the Governor approaches him with a discerning expression.

“Agent Kallus, I must say I was rather surprised to hear you have orders to relieve Commander Faurn of his prisoner. Might I ask, on whose command were your orders given?” She asks in one of the most condescending tones Rex has ever had the displeasure of hearing, his nose wrinkling at the woman behind his helmet.

To his surprise, Kallus doesn’t seem at all fazed, more bored looking than anything. “The orders were my own, Governor. As a high-ranking ISB agent I am authorized to interrogate any prisoner apprehended whenever and wherever I deem fit without question.” He answers smoothly, the feigned respect barely masking the challenge in his tone.

Her eyes widen with irritation before narrowing as she takes a step closer to the agent, attempting to intimidate him despite his considerable height. The display actually looks rather comical to Rex, the agent clearly towering over the irritable woman sneering like a lothcat trying to make a lothwolf back down.

“Might I remind you that I am the one in charge of this sector, meaning you report directly to me, Agent Kallus. It is my authority that outranks you.” She seethes, each word enunciated with a smugness that makes Kallus’ stomach churn with disgust. He merely stares down at her, eyes narrowing. “That may be true, but when it comes to ISB matters, your jurisdiction is outranked.” He counters calmly, his voice lowering menacingly.

Her nostrils flare at the slight to her power and authority, rage burning in her gaze that’s further agitated when it has no effect on the man before her. “Well, I do look forward to a full debriefing this instant!” She barks, turning on her heel to the grimacing Commander Faurn who looks to the ISB agent with a sorry expression, clearly this hadn’t been his idea but Pryce throwing her weight around.

“Commander, lead us to your office at once. Agent, follow me.” She demands, earning an eye roll from the ISB agent as soon as her back’s turned. His golden eyes dart to Rex before ordering “you two, ready the prisoner for transport. I want the ship ready for take off the moment I give word.”

His command makes Pryce stop in her tracks, practically livid that he’s still giving orders. Her hands ball to fists as Commander Faurn’s troopers lead Kallus’ men down a corridor toward the detention hall. Kallus can all but feel the rage burning in the woman, bracing himself to remain perfectly calm as she loses her wits yelling at him. Taking comfort in that her inability to keep her temper will be her undoing one of these days.

“Superiors, huh? Always fighting for dominance. This way, keep up now.” The trooper says casually under over his shoulder leading the way to the detention section, weapon at the ready. “That was a lot of dick swinging for a woman.” Rex muses lightly, earning a dark chuckle from the troopers leading the way. “Yeah, she’s a real treat! Comm’d the Commander out of nowhere, practically interrogated him just for taking the agent’s transmission. Almost feel sorry for that ISB agent.” The man says, turning the corner.

“What do you mean?” Kanan asks curiously. “She’s in charge of his sector, he has to report to her. Sucks having a superior who’s going to take all the credit and place all blame on you.” He explains simply, shaking his head. “Anyway, gotta admit, feel kinda bad for you guys as well! This prisoner has been a pain in the ass since he got here!” He admits, sounding relieved and at his wits end. Kanan suppresses a smile, ‘that’s my boy’ he thinks to himself.

“Wait. How did you not know about Pryce being the agent’s boss? You’re stationed on his destroyer.” The other trooper asks suspiciously, stopping in his tracks to turn to the others behind him. Rex and Kanan exchange a look before each punching a trooper directly in the face, knocking them out cold. They pull them into the nearest supply closet as Chopper plugs into a port, trying to locate the teen.
A soft grunt echoes down the nearby corridor, followed by the sound of an armored body hitting the floor. Footsteps coming closer at a run, too light for a fully grown man yet not a child. “Hey! Don’t shoot! It’s us!” Kanan says quickly, hands in the air as his padawan turns the corner, blaster ready to stun them.

“Ugh kid, shoot first ask questions later, remember?” Rex chides, hands coming to his hip as Kanan shakes his head at him. “Guys!” Ezra breathes with relief, throwing his arms around the two men. “Gotta hurry though before they realize I got out again.” He adds as an afterthought, quickly releasing the two and making to dart down the hall before Rex grabs him by his collar.

“Hold it kid, you’re our prisoner. Heading back to Agent Kallus’ ship. Nice an steady.” He says in a measured tone, pushing his blaster into the teens back after securing it’s on safe mode. “Ohhhh.” Ezra says, realization dawns with the brief explanation. “Kal, huh? He’s risking a lot for us lately.” He muses, looking over his shoulder to his master. “Let’s talk about it when we get home. We’re not out of this yet.” He advises seriously, focusing on the task at hand.

They make it to the ship without any issues, which is a first for them, Kallus’ cover story ensuring their smooth exit. They encounter their first problem when they get the ‘prisoner’ aboard and remember the two extra troopers manning the controls. Kanan clears his throat as they turn to look at him. “You will exit the ship and wait on the landing pad for Agent Kallus.” He says firmly, grinning with success as the troopers quickly exiting their seats to wait outside.

“Too good to be true.” Rex says skeptically, closing the ship’s doors and kicking the engines to life. “Wait, where’s Kallus?” Ezra asks after looking around the ship, finding it devoid of all agents. “He’s covering for us. Told us not to wait.” Kanan says seriously, chest loosening as they exit the Imperial ship and enter hyperspace for good measure.
*********

“Your insubordination will not be tolerated, Agent Kallus. How dare you undermine my authority?! How dare you lie about receiving orders! How much else are you lying about? I’ve read your reports as of late and must say they are quiet thorough and yet alarmingly vague at times.” She rants heatedly, her eyes narrowing threateningly as he meets her glare.

“And what may I ask are you suggesting?” He responds coolly, his voice as unhurried and in control as always. A menacing smile twists at her mouth, making her look even more spiteful and unattractive.

“Your recent actions combined with your inability to capture this rebel cell is suspicious. I think the vagueness in your reports are attempts to cover your mishaps, your shortcomings, and nearsightedness. In short, you’re trying to conceal weakness.” She argues unreasonably, taking wild jabs to try to land a shot. The knot in his stomach releases just as quickly as it’d formed. It’s all he can do to keep from laughing at himself at his brief worry the ignorant woman had found him out!

It’s better for the foolish woman to think he’s merely incompetent rather than suspect his true intentions, so he remains quiet, purses his lips, and narrows his eyes to feign worry and insult which she instantly takes as verification to her accusations. Her chest puffs with pride at how she’s, once again, very much correct in her brilliant assumptions. Kallus swallows his distaste, playing along to allow her to waste time and energy with her senseless ramblings.

“Your actions today show just how brash and impulsive you are agent. It’s a good thing Governor Tarken decided to put you on a leash under my command. Perhaps, if you are taken down a peg or two, you’ll even learn something from your superior.” She continues gloating, petting her own ego while trying to shame him. Commander Faurn gives him an apologetic look that Kallus meets with a soft unbothered nod, letting the words roll off him.

“Your repeated failure to capture a single rebel cell, even allowing them to expand and build momentum despite your efforts proves your incapability to handle them on your own. Put simply, the Empire doesn’t think you are strong enough, skilled enough, nor intelligent enough to stamp them out otherwise you would have done it by now. Is that not enough to dampen your out-of-control ego, agent Kallus?” She jabs, the irony threatening to make him chuckle.

“Your actions today reflect that messy desperate desire to redeem yourself by any means necessary, I empathize with your pitiful position, I do. However, I cannot allow you to bend corners or attempt to go above my head, pretending to be top of the chain, I really cannot.” She presses firmly, hands clasped behind her back as she paces before him. She’s about to continue when his stomach tells him it can take only so much more of this, urging him to retaliate coolly.

“With all due respect Governor, I have reason to believe that the prisoner detained is one of the rebels of the Ghost Crew. I kept that information from the Commander in order to ensure that the prisoner would be sent directly to me so that I can confirm his identity before raising alarm and bothering you.” Kallus reports calmly, his words stopping her in her tracks.

“There have been many false alarms regarding this cell and seeing how important your time is, I didn’t want to waste it had the prisoner simply been a transport stumbling into the delegate by accident.” He adds, deciding to stroke her ego a bit before continuing. Just as he’d planned, she gives him a calculated look over her shoulder but doesn’t interject.

“These rebels are slippery, far more tricky to hold on to than most would believe. I have delt with them over the last year and respect that fact. If this prisoner is indeed who I believe it to be, then it won’t be long before the Ghost Crew arrives to retrieve them. It is imperative that I transfer him to my ship immediately.” He argues firmly, still doing his best to pretend to be respectful of the brash woman.

“No, we will transport them to my ship and I will interrogate them there.” She plans aloud, a menacing smirk on her face as her rather dull mind realizes she can take the credit for his success. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes from rolling at her obvious, petty glory grabbing. But it is to his advantage, as alarms finally blare through the small office, the Commander nearly jumping from his skin.

“Sir, the prisoner escaped!” A trooper declares in a hurry as the Commander opens the door to see what is going on. “Seal the doors, keep the ships grounded, no one leaves!!” Pryce shouts urgently, the frantic note in her voice betraying her efforts to seem in control. “It’s already too late.” Kallus sighs, shaking his head reservedly, looking exhausted. “What do you mean?” She snaps, rounding on him as if it were his fault…which it is.

“We missed our opportunity. Had the prisoner been taken to my ship already as I’d planned then he’d be secured in ISB control.” Kallus adds, dancing around the point instead of outright saying ‘you kriffed up lady’. “Get out there and STOP THEM!!” She seethes through gritted teeth. Her rage makes him want to burst out laughing but he controls his expression, rising instead to pretend to help salvage the situation. *******

The teen has barely entered the Ghost when a twi’lek throws her arms around his neck, pulling him in close. He smiles warmly, wrapping his arms around her back. Hera’s surprised yet again at how tall the young man has gotten. “I was so worried about you!” She says with an urgency and guilt that makes his heart ache slightly. Hera finally releases the teen, squeezing his shoulders as she looks at him with affection and care.

“We all were!” Sabine adds, giving her friend a big hug as soon as the twi’lek steps aside to allow it. “Ugh, I knew you’d be fine. Give ‘em hell, did ya?” Zeb says casually, shrugging his shoulders before punching the teen’s arm lightly. “Of course I did!” Ezra laughs, pretending it wasn’t as jarring as it had been. “Garazeb Orellios, you and I both know you were worried sick, don’t even pretend.” Hera chides, giving the lasat a pointed look.

“So was Kallus, actually.” Kanan states calmly, all eyes drawn to the blind jedi with varying degrees of surprise. “Wait, what?” Ezra asks dumbfoundedly, disbelief clear in his tone. “His was the first ship we tried but he didn’t have Ezra. I could sense it when he figured out where Ezra was. He was really worried about you.” He explains easily, the room drawing silent as they consider his words. A half grin forms on Zeb’s face, having already known that the man worries for the crew.

“That reminds me, I need to get back to General Sato’s ship. If there’s a compromised fulcrum agent then command needs to know about it immediately.” Rex says seriously, getting another hug from the teen before saluting the crew. The old clone has marched back to his ship before they can even press him for answers.

“Kallus is compromised??” Zeb presses urgently, the fear in his tone mirrored in his expression. His muscles brace as if ready to pounce over to the next star destroyer to pull out their secret agent. Kanan shakes his head calmly, lifting one hand to stop the lasat in his worries.

“No, but he brought it to our attention that some of the intel we’ve been getting is faulty. We’re not sure if that fulcrum agent is intentionally feeding us lies or if they’ve been found and are being manipulated.” He explains seriously, both notions unsettling. Hera nods, having nursed that suspicion after leaving that planet that wasn’t supposed to have imperial presence where Zeb had run into Kallus himself.

“Wait, so you could feel Kallus’ emotions?” Ezra backtracks, as if he hadn’t been listening to the conversation about a compromised agent. Kanan sighs tiredly but smiles at his padawan, in awe of the teen’s selective listening abilities. “Yes, I was hoping to feel out his intentions but he’s just as stubborn as I’d thought. But I could sense his emotions.” He admits serenely, inwardly impressed by the agent’s ability to ward him off.

“Can you teach me?” Ezra asks eagerly, eyes bright with excitement. Sabine and Zeb exchange concerned looks, neither wanting the already invasive teen to pick up on their emotions or intentions! It’s a small ship and even though they’re a tight-knit group, they still have their boundaries! They’ll have to press Kanan to instill that into the kid.

“You do have a talent for connecting with others, you might actually pick it up pretty easy. But let’s try tomorrow. We’ve had a long day.” Kanan suggests wisely, his own body begging for rest and knowing the teen’s probably is too. *******

Chapter 14: Surgery

Chapter Text

Leaving his precious borifle safely on the dejark table, the lasat lumbers down the hall to his bunk to retrieve the supplies he needs to clean the weapon out, kicking himself for forgetting it in the first place. Before he reaches his room though, he’s stopped by the bright haired teen, a large smile on her face as she pops her head from her own room.

“Hey Big Guy! Wanna see my newest project, I think you’ll like it.” Sabine asks, the mischievous grin on her face assuring him that he most definitely will not like it. He growls lightly, fur raising with suspicion, but he follows her into her room anyway. Ears flatten against his head, eyes widen, and his mouth falls open as he takes the image in, not knowing how to react.

“Like it? You really inspired me, you know.” She says coyly, studying his expression with crossed arms as she leans against the door frame. The lasat stands frozen and gaping at the painting, the odd swirl of emotions in his chest confusing and jumbling his thoughts.

“What’s going on? Oh wow!!!! Sabine, that’s brilliant!!! Ahahahaha!!! This is the best thing I’ve ever seen!!!” Ezra gushes, laughing with delight at the painting and even more so at the dumbfounded expression on the lasat’s face as he stares at it. “Looks just like you two, Zeb!” He assures giddily, tears of laughter in his eyes as he reaches up to put his arm around the massive lasat’s shoulders having to stand on his tippy toes to manage it.

It takes the lasat a few long moments to recover, the image of him and Kallus together grinning comically wide with Zeb’s hand around the agent’s shoulder making his mind short circuit. The memory of that night rises to his thoughts making his chest warm but the laughter of the teen makes his stomach burn with irritation. “A perfect portrait of you and your boyfriend.” Ezra teases, still not having caught on that Zeb may in fact be harboring romantic feelings for the man.

Snapping back to reality, Zeb’s ears pull back, teeth baring as a sharp hissing growl escapes his throat, the signs Ezra knows mark his need to run!! The young jedi shoots down the hallway, the livid lasat right on his heels. Hera cringes as she hears them colliding multiple times with multiple unknown objects around her ship, both shouting in the early hours of the rotation. Curious to see what’s started this particular brawl, she sneaks to Sabine’s side, brows raising when she spots the image.

To be fair, it is one of the most lighthearted images covering the walls. It makes her both happy and concerned, just like Zeb’s relationship with Kallus does. She exchanges a meaningful look with the bright haired young lady, who no doubt has picked up on what she herself has been witnessing in Zeb.

“Creative. How’d he like it?” She asks amusedly, sipping her coffee. “I think he really liked it, until Ezra opened his mouth.” Sabine says playfully, shrugging her slim shoulders and following her captain into the hallway. They slowly make their way to the co*ckpit, settling in the frontmost chairs and listening to Kanan calming down and rounding up the boys, his voice firm and unyielding.

A while later, Kanan enters with the two in tow, ready to ask how they can make up for the outburst. “That will have to wait. We have a new mission. Kanan, you’ll take the lead, love.” She says sweetly, the ease in her voice assuring them it should be a straightforward mission. “Ok, what’re we doing?” The jedi asks calmly, standing behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You know that record keeping facility we’ve been wanting to infiltrate? Apparently, there’s an ISB agent who served time there that might be able to give us the intel we need to get in.” She explains, pulling up the specs of the mission for the others to peruse. “ISB are trained to withstand torture as well as jedi mind tricks. They won’t give up any intel willingly. Interrogating them is like beating a dead bantha.” Kanan counters serenely, having heard the horror stories of what the agents endure during training.

“Be that as it may, we’ve been given a golden opportunity.” Hera says enticingly, eyebrow raising as Kanan’s head co*cks to the side, showing his curiosity is piqued.

“This one needs a special procedure. They’ll be grounded on Syran, a planet excelling in medical procedures, during the two-day surgery and another day for recovery. They’ll have minimal defenses while planetside and the procedure requires them to be heavily sedated through the whole process. A drugged agent is an agent susceptible to jedi mind tricks, even if they’re ISB.” She explains easily, smiling at her partner warmly, hoping he can feel it through the force.

“Hm. Sounds like we’ve got a chance then.” He says optimistically, one hand crossing over his chest as the other strokes his beared, mulling it over. “Weird that I’m being the moral voice here but isn’t it, I don’t know…wrong…to jump a person having surgery?” Sabine asks, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the prospect. Isn’t it sort of like kicking a person when they’re down? Not how her clan taught her to fight.

“We’re not jumping or hurting anyone, just getting some answers from them. No physical harm will come to them.” Kanan reasons, putting a warm hand on her shoulder for her concern. Unable to argue, they shrug as Hera inputs the coordinates for the planet the agent will arrive at within a rotation. *****

The journey to Syran had been more tumultuous than expected, a brief run in with Visago stalling their arrival by nearly an entire rotation. Which is fine, as Hera reminded them again and again. The agent would be in surgery for nearly the entire first rotation, meaning they wouldn’t even have access to them until nightfall which it nearly is.

Kanan silently walks through the dim halls of the medical facility, his padawan following closely behind reminding him every 35 seconds how much he hates medical facilities. “Shhh.” He shushes the teen’s whining, pressing his back against a wall and pulling Ezra back as well. Once the footfalls disappear down the corridor, he rounds the corner, slowly approaching the two storm troopers guarding the door at the end of the hall.

“Stop right there.” One calls out, raising their weapon threateningly. “You’re going to lower your weapon and let us pass.” Kanan’s serene voice calls out commandingly, hand waving slowly in front of him as the guards’ shoulders sag, their weapons lowering. “We’re going to let you pass.” They say in unison, stepping to the side to let him and Ezra scoot past them, the door quietly sliding closed behind them.

The room is dimly lit, filled with humming machines that beep softly every now and then. After a few steps in, Ezra can see the med bed in the center of the room, his brilliant blue eyes widening as they land on its inhabitant laying quietly under the blanket. “Kallus??” He breathes disbelievingly in greeting, mouth hanging open with confusion as his eyes follow the many tubes connected to the agent’s arm, giving him vital fluids as well as various medicines.

Unfocused golden eyes stare at the two intruders narrowing as he tries to focus intently. Kallus’ head co*cks to the side before turning to the medidroid floating by his side. “The kriff did you give me?” He slurs slightly, blinking slowly as the droid babbles on the lengthy name of the medicine administered. Ezra chuckles with amusem*nt at hearing the disciplined, stoic agent use such language.

“We’re not a hallucination.” Kanan says gently, stepping further into the room but the medidroid rushes toward him, holding up both mech hands to stop him. “I’m sorry, no visitors! My patient has been in surgery all day. He must rest!” It warns urgently, blocking every movement the two jedi make.

“It’s ok T17, let them pass.” Kallus says blearily, blinking slowly and moving even slower, his golden hair disheveled around his uncharacteristically pale face. The medidroid reluctantly obliges, moving ever so slightly to the side to allow the men to enter. Kanan comes to the side of Kallus’ bed, serenely lowering into the chair there while Ezra remains standing at the foot of the bed wearing a concerned expression.

“What happened to you?” Ezra blurts out, it’d not even been a week ago that the agent had helped Kanan and Rex rescue him from that Imperial transport. What had happened so serious that it warranted a special surgical procedure?? He hadn’t gotten injured because of his escape had he? His stomach squirms with the thought, guilt rising in his chest making him grimace.

“Damaged my leg, have to get a new one.” Kallus says with a shrug, a drugged smile lingering on his face as his head lulls to the side. One of Ezra’s brows lifts at the odd statement a soft ‘huh’ escaping him as he looks at the older man. Kallus blinks sluggishly a few times, slowly realizing the teen doesn’t understand.

Very much uncoordinated, it takes him a moment to grab at the blanket over him, pulling up to reveal the missing lower half of his right leg, cut off below the knee and wrapped heavily in bandages. Ezra jumps back in shock, a stunned ‘woah’ escaping involuntarily as he stares at the ghastly injury.

“What…what happened??” He urges, panic tightening his throat making his voice raise higher than normal. Kallus’ head co*cks sloppily to the side as his eyes narrow, struggling to focus and register the teen’s reaction. A soft chuckle escapes him as he finds Ezra’s expression rather comical for some reason. “Oh…it’s ok. It’s an old injury.” He dismisses languidly, shaking his head slowly for a bit longer than necessary.

“Normlly, they’d jus slap a new one on. But the surgry today…was to rewire the circuits and whatnots…I’m getting an upgraded one.” He slurs, turning to Kanan with a soft grin on his face as if enthused by the prospect. Seemingly satisfied after Kanan returns the smile, Kallus turns his attention to the blanket trying and failing to return it to its original place over him. Ezra gently takes the end of the thin blanket and covers his legs for him earning a warm ‘thank you’ from the agent.

“An upgraded one, huh? Does it come with any blasters?” Kanan asks playfully, patiently waiting for the few long moments it takes for the patient to register his jest. He grins happily as Kallus chuckles softly when the bad joke finally lands, the teen groaning and rolling his eyes.

“Mn. Shoots from the toes.” Kal says in faux seriousness, a silly grin on his face making him look like a completely different person. Kanan grins, nodding his head gently at the drug-induced humor as he snickers. “No rockets though. That’s only if you lose both legs.” Kallus adds, smirking at his own dark humor as Ezra snorts shortly, finding it both hilarious and bizarre.

“Yeah, be hard to steer with only one.” Kanan notes thoughtfully, his tone as playful as the teen has ever heard it. Kallus chuckles quietly, the sound surprising and foreign to the young jedi but he smiles as he hears it. So, is this the side of the agent that Zeb’s been witnessing? Not the heavy sedation, obviously, but the light heartedness and openness. Ezra half smirks, finding the man to be rather fun.

“I don’t suppose you came to wish me a speedy recovery.” Kallus says lightly in a moment of semi clarity through the apparently strong drugs they’ve given him. “No, although the sentiment is true.” Kanan says kindly, expression soft and relaxed as if having a conversation with an old friend. Ezra’s eyebrows raise as he watches the two interact, surprised by how relaxed, at ease, and friendly his master is.
“We heard you spent some time at the records facility on Udoro, we were hoping to pick your brain about the facility and it’s defenses.” He explains gently, feeling the man on the bed drifting in and out of consciousness. Kallus slowly rubs at his eyes, fighting the drugs and fatigue as best as he can.

“Not sure I can be of much help at the moment. T17 how long until the drugs fully kick in?” He asks drowsily, turning to the droid with eyes half closed. “Approximately 5 minutes. I advise my patient to rest. The first surgery is the worst, requiring the strongest drugs to counteract the pain from all the severed nerves that are now exposed and raw. Tomorrow will be another long procedure and you’ll need your strength. The recovery day will be the best for visitors seeing as the drugs necessary won’t be as strong as today’s dosage.” T17 urges, worry in its droning voice.

“Hm, sounds like we should let you rest then.” Kanan hums serenely, shrugging at the patient in the bed who shakes his head defiantly. “Have’nt listen to doctors ordrs yet…n’I still have 3 limbs.” Kallus mumbles half asleep with a mischievous smile on his face. The jedi chuckles quietly before adding conspiratorially ‘and soon, an upgraded fourth limb’.

Kallus hums with a smile, eyes closing despite his best efforts, looking more exhausted than Ezra’s ever seen him. “Get some rest, my friend. We’ll visit when you’re recovering.” Kanan says firmly, squeezing the agent’s shoulder in a comforting way before leaving him to rest. A long sigh escapes the golden-haired man, his head falling slightly to the side as his body sinks further into the bed, in a deep sleep.

“Wish I could fall asleep that easy.” Ezra complains lightly. “Well, we can cut your leg off to get the drugs necessary.” Kanan chides easily, leading the teen from the room. “Yeah, good idea.” Ezra drones sarcastically, rolling his eyes. ******

“Well, how’d it go?” Hera asks eagerly, waiting on the landing ramp with Zeb, Chop, and Sabine as the two jedi approach, the sun setting behind them casting long shadows down the street. “Better than expected. It’s agent Kallus that’d spent time on Udoro. He’s too drugged now to get intel from him but we can come back in another rotation and he’ll answer anything we need him to.” Kanan explains calmly, his words evoking various degrees of surprise from the group.

“Kal!? Is he ok? What happened to him??” Zeb asks urgently, ears flattening as his eyes dart toward the medical facility as if tempted to rush in there that very moment. Kanan’s head co*cks to the side, sensing the intense concern in his friend. “He’s ok, he said it’s an old injury. Did you know half his leg is a prosthetic?” Ezra asks a little too casually to speak about someone’s traumatic physical injuries.

“WHAT??” Zeb growls, fur standing on end with alarm, muscles bracing for action. “What happened?” He adds urgently, grumbling when the teen merely shrugs. “Dunno, didn’t think to ask. Besides, he was too drugged up and having fun with Kanan.” Ezra taunts, chuckling at the bad jokes from the two. The group turn to the jedi in curious surprise, Zeb’s ears twitching as his head co*cks to the side.
Kanan shrugs easily adding ‘we just made a few jokes, he’s actually pretty funny’. Hera’s mouth falls slightly open as she stares at her partner, unable to believe he’d befriend the agent so quickly!

“Anyway, there’s nothing we can do until he’s in recovery. Might as well settle in for the night.” Kanan reasons happily, starting to climb the ramp until a soft siren catches his attention. He turns his head slightly to listen better, Zeb’s ears perking up at the unfamiliar sound.

It’s not an alarm from the Empire. The lasat scans the darkened streets until he notices the red lights flashing within the medical facility, his heart sinking, “Kal” he breathes with dread. “Something’s happened.” Ezra states seriously, turning to his master for guidance. Kanan rushes down the ramp onto the streets, retracing the way to the medical facility. He stops in his tracks as he hears the emergency doors and bars locking into place. No one in, no one out. “Do we break in?” Ezra asks, slightly out of breath as he comes to his side.

“No. Fan out, search the surrounding area.” He directs the crew, no one knowing what exactly they’re looking for. Zeb’s chest tightens with dread as he rushes down street after street, no sign of anything out of the ordinary. A full lockdown at a medical facility could only mean a patient has gone missing. He cringes, gritting his fangs at the thought of Kallus left so vulnerable and drugged. If something happened to him!

“Found a medidroid on the northside of the building three blocks down. Rendezvous there.” Hera’s serious voice rings from the comm on his belt. He grinds to an immediate halt before bounding down another block in the direction ordered, arriving there in mere moments. He turns the droid over, inspecting the blaster hole in its main circuit, his blood running cold.

“T17.” Ezra says sadly, looking down at the droid. “That’s the droid caring for Kallus.” He adds, voice deepening with dread. Zeb’s throat tightens, feeling bile rising with overpowering apprehension. He bites back ‘Who would want to do this?’, grimacing at the fact that the man had earned the hatred of numerous beings within the galaxy. The crew exchange worried looks before Chop draws their attention to a hatched door bolted to the ground, muttering in binary.

“Old water drainage system? Sounds like a good place to hide out. Let’s go crash their party.” Hera says darkly, a seriousness and intensity in her tone the crew has only witnessed a handful of times. Kanan uses the force to slam open the door, the putrid stink of stale unmoving water assaulting their senses. Zeb’s stomach twists with terror; this is the last place someone recovering from surgery should be! Even if they find him, the possibility of him catching a nasty infection is off the charts. The thought crosses the others’ minds as well.

“Let’s move fast.” Sabine says seriously, her voice muffled behind her helmet. Zeb jumps down first, ignoring the rail ladder and landing with a splash. He fires up his handlight, turning around to inspect the pitch black around him. The multitude of tunnels are rather narrow and cramped, like a maddeningly claustrophobic maze. Vermin scatter as the crew invade the awful, forgotten place, their scampering and squeaking echoing off the stone walls.

“Chopper, pull up schematics of the layout, look for any juncture points where someone could be held.” Hera commands in that forced calm she gets when she’s uncomfortable, out of her element. The astromech drabbles before bringing up a holo of the system, everyone’s hopes of finding the man quickly fading as they scan the intricate tunnel system.

“Chop, send this to everyone for reference. We need to split up, cover more ground. Ezra, you and Sabine head to the eastern juncture, Kanan you and Zeb take the northern, Chop and I will go to the western.” She commands firmly, the situation too dire for arguing. They head out in different directions each with a look of determination.

A thin layer of stale water covers the floor, making their footfalls splatter and squelch. The warmth of the putrid tunnel making Zeb’s stomach turn with apprehension. The warmer the environment, the easier for infection to set in. Even if he found the human this very moment, he’d be in trouble. “Zeb, I know you’re worried but it won’t do him any good. I need you focused Big Guy.” Kanan soothes calmly, barely able to fit in the tunnel beside the lasat.

Zeb’s ears flatten, hands balling to fists as he grimaces. He knows Kanan is right but there’s no fighting the anxiousness tingling under his fur, twisting his stomach. “Tell me how bad a state he was in? His prosthetic leg is bein’ replaced, right?” He growls, wanting to know all the details so he can brace for the worst. ******

A sound keeps bothering him, nagging at his senses and irritating him from his sleep. He groans deeply, hoping to ward it off but it is persistent. Eyelids too heavy to lift, his cloudy mind wonders weakly why he feels like he’s sitting up when he’s really in the medical bed laying down. Sweat drips down his forehead disappearing into the strands of hair stuck there. That’s not right. The medical facility is cold, uncomfortably so. He shouldn’t be sweating.

A foul smell assaults him on his next inhale, his nose wrinkling against it. He tries to shift but his body is unbearably heavy. Too weak to move he supposes but can’t understand where that odd clanking sound came from, almost like metal chains. Odd.

“T…t…17…” He breathes, voice barely a whisper as he calls for the unit that ought to be at his side. His throat feels raw and dry. How could that medidroid be so careless? Did he not administer fluids? Too exhausted to be angry, he tries to sleep but a tingling over his skin keeps irritating him, keeping him awake.

He grimaces as a sudden jolt of intense pain shoots up his leg, throbbing persistently just below the knee where…He forces his eyes open a fraction, vision blurring in and out of focus, mind taking a long few moments to register the damp stone floor under the dirtied bandages wrapped around his injured leg. That’s not right! Dread pools in his empty stomach as he slowly comes to, the pain in his leg becoming nearly unbearable as he wakes from the drug-induced stupor.

“’bout time, Imp. We’ve been waitin’ all night for you to wake. How ya feelin’? Comfortable?” A gruff, unfriendly voice asks tauntingly, the coldness in his tone sending a wave of apprehension down his spine. ‘Karabast’ groans in his groggy mind. Footsteps approach and suddenly a rough hand tugs at his hair before his head is forced up at a painful angle, the face of a nikto twisted with spite appearing before him.

He groans, vision blurring as he struggles to look at the man smirking menacingly at him. “Who-r-you?” He manages, the slurred question barely audible in his half-conscious state. Kallus grimaces, teeth gritting as a surge of pain throbs through his mangled leg, radiating up his thigh into the hip. As a cough rocks through his chest, the nikto tosses Kallus’ head to the side and rises to stand over him with crossed arms.

“WE work for Saw Gerrera. He wants us to get information from you. After that, well…” A kel dor says menacingly, calmly stepping into the agent’s view, a dim beam of light shining from above the only light in the dismal place. “Where are we.” He slurs, trying to look around but finding he can’t move. The realization sends blinding panic through his body like electricity, remembering the last time he’d woken in such a state due to Gerrera’s mercenaries.

Golden eyes lower, finding a thick chain wrapped around his arms, securing him to what he can only imagine is a large pipe behind him. A shimmer of relief floods his chest, realizing that he’s not in fact paralyzed again. A sharp gasp escapes him as extreme pain shoots through his limb, making him yearn for the dullness the drugs had offered. The fact that he can feel the pain further proving he’s not paralyzed.

“We’re asking the questions here, Imp.” The kel dor snaps harshly, taking a step closer to his prisoner as the nikto backs away to give him room. ‘So, he’s the temporary leader then’, Kallus notes smirking as the man stands over him, trying to intimidate him. He forces himself to meet the man’s black eyes, his expression as neutral as always despite his dire situation. To his dismay, the painkillers are fading at an increased pace, improving his speech and motor skills but also intensifying the godawful pain in his leg.

“The Empire is mining a large amount of Kyber. Why?” He asks firmly, his creepy unblinking stare unsettling but Kallus shows no emotion, even in his current state. “You tell me.” He counters calmly, pretending to be bored. The kel dor’s hit is stronger than he’d expected, his cheek bone protesting as his neck muscles ache from being jerked to the side so suddenly. “You’re quick.” He muses casually, slowly bringing his head back to face the man who instantly hits him again, this time on the other side.

“Why?” He demands irritably, temper already flaring. ‘Is this his first time? Might as well make it memorable.’ Kallus muses to himself, ironically thankful for the months of torture training he’d endured as an ISB cadet.

“Dunno, years of training I’d suppose.” Kallus says flatly, the taunt taking a moment longer for the kel dor to register it. His expression sours as the agent smirks at him. He punches Kallus’ abdomen as hard as he can not once, not twice, but four times.

Kallus’ chest protests angrily as he coughs, spitting up blood at the kel dor’s boots before looking back up to him. “You’ve done this before.” He praises calmly, eyebrow co*cking as a coy smirk graces his features, pretending it didn’t hurt in the slightest even though he’s sure at least one rib is cracked. The disgusted flicker that crosses the man’s expression sends a delighted thrill of victory through the agent.

“Why are you mining the Kyber?” He presses once more, recomposing himself and reeling in his apparently firey temper. “I’ve never mined anything.” Kallus counters indifferently, rolling his eyes at his captors and instantly regretting it as a wave of nausea rushes over him making his eyes close, feeling his skin burning with fever. ‘That’s not good’, he thinks, apprehension pooling in his stomach. Suddenly, another harsh blow lands directly into his stomach making him wretch for a moment until he can regain control of his body.

“No, you’re coruscanti scum. Never got yer hands dirty I’d say.” The kel dor taunts, hatred thick in his tone. Kallus can’t help but chuckle softly, his ribs shouting to him to stop which he quickly does. “You’d be surprised.” He muses, finding it humorous how very wrong the man is. He groans, grimacing against the extreme pain as a thick boot collides with his balls, his body instinctively trying to curl forward to protect itself but the thick chains around him only irritate the cracked ribs.

“Not laughing at that one huh?” The kel dor states, a wicked satisfaction in his tone at finally having hurt the already injured and sick agent. “Never really understood that kink to be honest.” Kallus states coolly, bracing himself for another rough retaliation. To his relief the man punches his face instead, apparently uncomfortable with his sexual reference. ‘hom*ophobic perhaps, would expect no less from Saw’s barbaric grunts.’

“I don’t like you, Imp.” The kel dor growls menacingly, bending down to get in his captive’s face. Kallus forces himself to look into those creepy eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “I like you.” He says innocently, feigning a sweetness that makes the man withdraw before thrashing him with his fists. The assault goes on a few long moments, a number of hits landing well enough to make the agent taste blood. He chuckles inwardly when the man accidentally punches the thick chain around Kallus’ chest, finding the idiocy quite an amusing distraction from his own pain.

The man jumps back in pain, rubbing his knuckles and seething. The nikto pats his back roughly watching the kel dor pace the small room before taking the kel dor’s place over Kallus. The agent languidly meets his hateful glare with a smooth confidence despite the agony his body is in. Only the dullness in his eyes gives away his terrible state, the fever taking a toll on him.

“Not feeling too well, are we?” He muses, gently pressing the back of his hand to Kallus’ forehead. He sighs softly at the coolness of the hand, quickly suppressing a groan as its taken back. A flicker of worry passes through his eyes, feeling more incoherent than he’d been not 20 minutes ago. “I’ve had worse.” He states honestly, his neutral expression faltering as fatigue threatens to overcome him.

“Just answer our questions and the pain will stop.” He offers in an icily kind tone, the meaning behind his words clear in his eyes. “Stop as in you’ll kill me. Or are you planning on leaving me here to die slowly?” He counters, the casual tone of the agent making his captor retract ever so slightly. Is this human that hardcore that the prospect of death doesn’t even faze him?

“Cooperate and perhaps I’ll show you a merciful death.” He soothes, the indifference in his voice nothing less than he’d expect from Saw’s ‘rebels’.

“It doesn’t matter.” Kallus dismisses vaguely, shaking his head and stopping almost instantly as it turns his stomach, feeling faint with fever. “Tell us why the Empire is mining Kyber. Where are they taking it?” The nikto presses, feigning calmness to appear in control of the situation.

Kallus sighs at the futile efforts of the idiots. Even if he did know anything about that top secret project, he’s an ISB agent, there’s no way he’d ever submit to these two! “I don’t know anything about it. But you won’t believe me anyway, will you?” He says tiredly, feeling utterly drained from the high fever and persistent, overwhelming pain in his leg, now radiating into his abdomen.

“No, I suppose we won’t.” He says quietly, staring the agent in the eye as he stands pausing a moment before stomping down hard on his injured leg. Kallus’ vision blurs with unbelievable agony, his throat aching from the prolonged anguished cry. His body writhes in torment, trying to escape that unbearable throbbing and pressure as the nikto twists his boot side to side, crushing the raw nerves underneath. Kallus’ breathing comes in heavy, labored gasps, vision darkening as agony overwhelms him. ********

The lasat growls with frustration, pushed past his limit in apprehension. ‘He has to be here! He has to!’ Repeats desperately in his head as dread pools sickeningly in his stomach, twisting the painful knot there. It’d been almost a day that they’ve been scouring the dreadful tunnels without a clue to where the human had been taken! Kanan had long since given up telling him to try to calm down, the lasat too tightly wound to listen.

“This way.” Kanan says firmly, turning down yet another corner. Zeb follows but after a few steps freezes, a strange pull in his chest telling him to turn around. Kanan’s head turns slightly toward him as if listening deeply to something behind him. “No, we need to go this way.” Zeb announces confidently, hope flaring in his chest for the first time in hours. Kanan pauses as if shocked, rooted to the spot until he hears the lasat’s footfalls getting further away.

Turning corner after corner at top speed, his heart races in his chest, knowing somehow that he’d finally found the right direction. One ear swivels back, picking up his friend’s footfalls and his short transmission to the rest of the crew telling them their direction and that Zeb has a lead. His eyes focus on the dim before him, keen to pick up any signs of life when his ears pick up voices, echoing down the tunnel to his right.

His breath catches and a moment later he barrels down the tunnel, desperate hope making his large eyes appear nearly crazed. It takes him a moment to register the scene before him when he finally enters a small juncture, the sight of a kel dor and nikto staring at him in shock making his heart sink. Perhaps, it was nothing after all. His expression falls with despair at finding two hobos instead of his human, eyes lowering until…

“Kal?” He breathes, dread tightening his chest, vision turning red as the slumped figure of the agent remains deathly still. He snarls with rage, fangs baring at the two men who tremble as the giant lasat bears down on them looking terrifyingly murderous. “He’s just an Imp! Doin’ the galaxy a favor” “We work for Gerrara, don’t wanna mess with him!” The men say at the same time, infuriating the lasat further.

A large hand wraps around the nikto’s torso, throwing him across the room with terrifying strength. His body collides with the stone wall with a sickening crunch that echoes through the room, falling limply to the floor. Zeb’s eyes twitch with rage as he turns to the cowering kel dor, bringing a mighty fist down on his head, pummeling him relentlessly until he feels his bones breaking. “ZEB!!!!” Kanan shouts in terror, finally pulling the lasat from his murderous rampage.

He turns to snap at his friend but his eyes are distracted by the body on the ground, large golden eyes filled with terror as they stare up at him. Zeb’s ears lower with guilt, tossing the kel dor to the side as he drops to his knees beside Kallus, searching his battered face. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” He repeats softly, hating seeing the man utterly petrified of him. Kallus’ bleary mind slowly registers that it’s Zeb before him, not Saw’s lasat mercenary come to finally finish him off.

“Zeb?” He breathes, expression softening as tears of relief glisten in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. Yer safe now Kal. I got ya. I’m here, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He drawls soothingly, pulling the human into his chest who trembles violently against him from fever or terror, he’s not sure. “I got ya. Yer gonna be ok, promise.” Zeb says softly, petting the human’s sweat-soaked hair soothingly and feeling the warmth of his forehead.

He stifles a gasp at the heat coming off the man, anxious eyes looking up desperately to Kanan for help. The jedi approaches swiftly, drawing his lightsaber to free Kallus of the thick chains around him. Kallus’ vision blurs, the pain radiating through his body too much to handle yet too awful to allow him to sleep. Suddenly, he feels the chains supporting him go lack and he falls to the side into Zeb’s broad chest, thick arms wrapping around him comforting him and keeping him steady as his vision swims.

“Oh my god.” Sabine breathes in horror as she and the others enter the room, the sight of Kallus’ mangled leg bleeding freely and the deathly paleness of his typically warm skin highly alarming. Her stomach clenches as she sees the bodies of the two men, both with odd angles and unmoving, forcing herself not to think about it. “We need to get him out of here.” Hera says seriously, the urgency in her tone snapping everyone back from their temporary shock.

“Kal, I’m going to get you outta here, ok? Just hold on, we’ll get ya help.” Zeb soothes, cautiously repositioning the limp frame in his arms to carry him sideways. The man hisses in pain at the pressure of Zeb’s hand under his knee, the bloody stump of his leg dangling as he’s lifted into the air. His head falls to the lasat’s chest, his body feeling impossibly weak, unable to move.

“It’s gonna be ok, Kal. Just stay with me, ok?” He reassures, the panic barely suppressed in his tone making the agent feel that it might very well not be ok. “Chop, get us to the nearest exit, now!” Hera commands firmly, moving aside to let the lasat rush ahead of her after the droid. Her eyes widen as she sees the state of the agent, stomach clenching with what may very well happen.

Kanan puts a hand on his frozen padawan’s shoulder to guide him forward. “Is he…” Ezra asks quietly, not wanting to say the words aloud. “Not sure.” He answers honestly, staying calm for his family.
They’re surprised to see that it’s nighttime as they finally exit the abandoned water tunnels. The cool night breeze sends a violent shiver through the agent’s battered body and he moves closer into the warmth of the lasat holding him. Each lumbering step jarring as it irritates his injured leg making his consciousness wane. Darkness creeps into the sides of his vision, fear that he may not wake up making his stomach drop.

He defiantly forces his eyes open, gazing up to Zeb’s face to focus against the pain. “Don’ leave.” He slurs weakly, just barely a whisper inaudible to the rest. The sound surprises Zeb, whose eyes grow wide with worry and affection as he meets Kallus’ desperate gaze. “’m not goin’ anywhere.” He assures firmly, a genuine and warm smile on his handsome features that puts the man at ease. Even if he is to die, Zeb will be with him as it happens. The thought is deeply comforting, allowing the tightness in his chest to release.

“Zeb look out!” Kanan hisses just before a strong beam of light is directed at his friend followed by stern voices shouting at them to ‘stop!’. “Run!” Hera urges the crew, spotting the many stormtroopers rushing down the street toward them. “Karabast!” Zeb growls, bounding forward and trying his best not to jar the human around too much. It’s a futile effort, the moment he begins running Kallus cries out in agony, the movement making his vision go white.

After a few blocks, Zeb ducks into an alleyway followed quickly by his family all wearing apprehensive looks as their eyes move to the limp figure in his arms. Somewhere along the way, Kallus had lost consciousness, the pain too overwhelming to bear. Zeb anxiously checks his pulse, letting out a measured sigh of relief when he feels it.

“We’re not going to be able to make it to the medical facility. It’s too heavily guarded.” Hera states seriously, bright green eyes narrowing as she scans the street, blaster raised at the ready.
“Let’s get him to the Ghost.” Zeb suggests firmly, desperate panic clouding his judgement. The kids are about to agree with him, eyeing the lights of the troopers nearing their position when Kanan’s calm voice rings out. “Zeb, we can’t. We don’t have the medical resources he needs. If we take him, he’ll die. We have to leave him.”

“We can’t just leave him!!” Zeb growls, fur ruffling with rage at the mere suggestion. “Kanan’s right, Zeb. We can’t bring him with us. The troopers will get him to the medical facility. But right now, it looks like this is all our doing! They’ll kill us if they catch us!” Hera explains urgently, the note of panic in her tone deeply unnerving.

“Chop get the Ghost ready.” She commands quickly, lekku swinging as she turns to look at the droid. “I…I can’t just…” Zeb argues weakly, feeling tears in his eyes as he looks down at the helpless and vulnerable human burning up in his arms, looking like he’s on death’s door. He’d just promised him he wouldn’t leave him! What if he…and he isn’t there for him? He grits his teeth against the agonizing thought, blinking back the tears unsuccessfully.

“Zeb, we don’t have a choice. You’re not doing him any favors by staying and getting captured.” Kanan reasons gently, he puts a comforting hand on his massive shoulder, relaying his sympathy. His logic is sound but Zeb’s heart still aches like he’s sentencing Kallus to death as he gently lowers him to the ground. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry Kal.” He whispers to the man, his voice trembling with emotion. The crew cover him as he settles Kallus down, watching the troopers closing in on them and giving him a moment.

His large lower lip quivers with suffering as he carefully removes his arms from around the human, heart breaking with how vulnerable he looks laying there all alone. “I’m sorry.” He breathes, a few tears escaping his green eyes as Kanan pulls him down the street after the others, deflecting every shot with his lightsaber. Zeb glances back over his shoulder to see the troopers grouping around the agent, circling him to protect him from the rebels and checking his pulse.

The alleys and streets pass in a flurry of chaos he barely registers, his mind replaying the image of Kallus, broken and alone on the cold street possibly to die. Tears fill his eyes as his heart feels as if it’s tearing in two, his strong legs propelling him forward despite the intense pull in his chest urging him to go back. Kanan’s head co*cks to the side as he senses the odd pull in his friend yet again, his stomach clenching with dread of what might happen to the agent.

By the skin of their teeth, they make it into the Ghost, Hera barreling into the co*ckpit with Sabine in tow to get them off planet before they’re blow out of the sky. Ezra rushes to man the guns but Zeb can only stand in shock, body numb and unmoving. Kanan turns back to his friend, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. “He’ll be ok. He’s persistent and he’s got a reason to pull through.” He assures firmly, something in the vague statement confusing Zeb but he’s far too upset to even worry about it now. In an instant, the jedi is gone, manning the guns that Zeb knows he should be at but just can’t get his body to cooperate.

In a daze, his footing stumbles as the Ghost takes off, steadying himself on the wall of the cargo hold to keep himself from falling over. ‘Ashla, please let him pull through! Please let him make it! Don’t let him die alone, not like that. Please.’ Overcome with guilt, his body slides down the wall collapsing in a heap on the floor as he buries his head in his hands, agonized tears sliding down the fur of his cheeks. *********

Chapter 15: Waiting on Fulcrum

Chapter Text

Large green eyes stare blankly ahead without really seeing anything, barely even blinking. The void in his chest sucking in all whispers of hope attempting to rise from the bleak devastation. The image of the deathly pale human laying on the cold street all alone, unmoving and bleeding profusely frozen in his mind, making him unable to think of anything else. It feels like it’s been years since they escaped Syran but the emptiness in his stomach that growls indignantly from negligence hints that it’d only been a day or two, three at most.

As soon as they’d gotten off planet, Hera had positioned them out of sight and off grid while lingering as close to Kallus’ star destroyer as possible, allowing Sabine to slice into the transmissions. They’d found that the agent had indeed been transported back to his ship along with a handful of doctors and nurses, but his current state is yet unknown.

Seeing as the medical personnel haven’t returned to the planet means that the man may yet be alive but there remains the possibility that they’re being held for treason for letting him die under their care. If that is the case though, why would the ship remain hovering over the planet? Nothing is for sure and nothing helps the intense pain the lasat is in. His only comfort is the odd pulling sensation in his chest, giving him hope that the human is still alive.

Suddenly, his fur stands on end as his body jerks violently under the hand placed gently on his shoulder. He turns with a low threatening growl rumbling in his throat, finding his blinded friend standing over him. “Kanan.” He greets tersely, voice tense from the sudden shock. “Sorry buddy, I kept calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” Kanan apologizes kindly, knowing how bad a state his friend has been in the last few days.

“Sorry.” Zeb mumbles, feeling too numb and dead inside to actually feel remorse. “Sabine got a new transmission. It’s promising.” The jedi adds, the knot in his own stomach had released greatly when the teen had relayed it to him. Zeb’s ears perk, his eyes brightening with cautious hope for good news as he rises from the couch to follow his friend to the co*ckpit.

The little Mandalorian sits in the copilot’s chair, the dark circles under her eyes denoting how hard she’s been working since their escape. “Zeb, you’ll want to hear this!” She says happily, instantly playing the recorded transmission; the voice droning on and on about some machine after another. His brows furrow with frustration and confusion, why in the world would he want to hear this gibberish? Seeing his reaction, Sabine shakes her head before explaining.

“Those are all the medical machinery and supplies that are being transported to Kallus’ star destroyer. All the things the doctor will need to install a prosthetic leg. Meaning, he’s recovered well enough that they can operate. He’s going to be ok, Big Guy!!” She says with eager happiness, the warmth in her smile melting the ice that’d frozen lasat’s chest.

“He’s…he’s gonna be alright?” He repeats distantly, his mind taking a few long moments to understand, having ruminated in despair for too many days on end. His ears twitch as relief and hope fill that painful void inside, tears welling in his eyes that he tries hard to blink them back. Sabine quickly wraps her arms around the massive lasat, letting him envelop her in a warm hug that helps anchor him as he’s flooded with intense emotions.

Hera looks to Kanan with a warm smile, both knowing without a doubt how deeply Zeb cares for the agent and thankful beyond measure that he’d pulled through after all. They’d been bracing for the worst; how utterly destroyed their friend would be if the human he’s fallen for died so suddenly. Kanan takes her hand and squeezes it gently, sensing her immense relief as well as her exhaustion. They’d been working for days on end without rest, too troubled over the situation to even try to sleep even if Zeb or Ezra had been in the right mind to take over a shift or two.

Zeb had been in a state of utter shock, incapacitated by worry for the agent. But he hadn’t been the only one. The young padawan had holed himself in his bunk, lying in bed nursing the sickening dread racking through his body. Just as he’d tried to console Zeb, he’d tried to reassure Ezra without success. “Every time we’ve needed help, he got us out safely. And we…we just left him there. We left him to die!” Ezra’d said tearfully that first night, feeling overwhelming guilt for not being able to save the agent. He fears that the young man’s desire to save everyone won’t end well for him.

“I’ll go tell Ezra.” He says calmly, happy to give the teen the good news and put his heart at ease. Hera nods in agreement, wanting the whole family to be out of the distraught as soon as possible. Kanan squeezes Zeb’s shoulder warmly as he passes, sensing the overwhelming relief in the man as his body shakes against Sabine. After a few long moments, Zeb finally releases the little Mandalorian, sniffingly a sheepish ‘thanks’ as he rubs at his eyes.

“Any time.” Sabine says warmly, smiling at her giant friend before petting the soft fur on his forearm in a comforting way. “But there is not so great news, too.” She says gently, frowning slightly at the lasat. “They’re sending reinforcements to scour the planet and surrounding sector to hunt us down. We need to leave asap.” She explains seriously, the unsavory news unable to fully dampen the relief they all feel.

“We’re being charged with the attempted murder of an Imperial agent, so we’ve moved higher up on the wanted list. And Syran is now on full lock down thanks to those two goons who’re really to blame! Once we’re in hyperspace, I’m going to have to report to General Sato and explain what happened.” Hera says firmly, trying not to sound too bothered but still relay the seriousness of the situation.

Sabine takes the co-pilot’s chair as Chopper plugs into the port behind her, prepping the Ghost for the journey. Zeb nods absently, wanting to stay close to where Kallus is but knowing that’s one of the most dangerous places for his family to be right now. Instead, he sighs as he sinks into one of the chairs, relishing the intense relief filling up that void that’d been in his chest for days.

‘He’s ok, he’s alive, he’s going to be fine. He’s a strong one.’ He thinks, his heart warming as he thinks of the man and the life they may yet still have together one day. The timid, hopeful thought makes the skin on his cheeks burn slightly, his heart fluttering as he submits to his own affections. ********

His golden eyes flutter open, blinking sluggishly in the dim overhead lights that reflect the early hour in the rotation. A quiet groan escapes him as he cautiously stretches on the med bed, his body still painfully sore and fatigued but worlds better than it’d been. The drugs in his system keeping his mind fuzzy and body tired, which is fine he tells himself. There’s still another week of recovery before he can return to work.

Another thought slowly occurs to him and he curiously lifts the bottom of his blanket to inspect the new prosthetic limb below. After twisting the foot and wiggling the toes that feel just as much a part of his body than the real flesh and blood limbs, he smiles contentedly, letting the blanket fall back. A deep yawn overcomes him, feeling impossibly exhausted he gingerly burrows deeper into the bed, chasing sleep that’s just out of reach.

Instead, his mind roams back in wonder to the extraordinary experience back on Syran, amazed that the Ghost Crew had actually found him, that they actually helped him, saved his life! He’s had numerous near-death experiences over the years, but he can honestly say that was the closest to being on death’s doorstep than he’s ever been.

The memory both shakes and oddly comforts him, Zeb’s presence tainting the terrifying experience making it far more tolerable. Those warm, strong arms that easily lifted him up to rest against his broad and muscular chest, keeping him close, safe, secure. He hums softly, a gentle smile lingering on his lips as he remembers the feeling, relishing it, wishing he were here now to wrap those arms around him.

As if to aide the fantasy, he curls around himself, holding his arms close and snuggles deeper into the pillows. Not bad but nowhere near as wonderful as the real thing. Perhaps one day, he can experience that again only without the agonizing physical pain and fear of death overtaking him. He smiles to himself, finding his own dark humor amusing.

A soft ‘bing’ comes from the data pad on the stand beside the bed pulling him from his thoughts about the handsome lasat who’d come for him in his darkest hour. He shakes his head defiantly at the device, not wanting to be bothered but worry nags at him. With a groan, he stretches to reach the pad, bringing it back under the covers and praying the incoming memo isn’t about the Ghost Crew’s capture.

To his relief it’s nothing about the crew but his stomach sinks as he reads the message. ‘In light of the recent brash attempt on your life and the severity of the injuries inflicted upon your persons by the rebel cell once believed to be principled, ISB deems it fit to assign an Admiral to your sector to aid in their immediate capture. Preparations have already been put in motion for Grand Admiral Thrawn to arrive once his current operation has concluded. In the meantime, your commendable service may resume once recovery is complete.’

He feels as if he’s been pulled to the crushing depths of the deepest ocean planet, immense weight pressing against him on all sides until he can’t breathe. ‘Kriff! Kriff! Kriff! Kriff! Kriff! KRIFF!!!!’ Is all he can think for a few long moments, forcing himself to slow his breathing as he feels a panic attack coming on. He squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he rubs his temples and measures the inhales and exhales.

It could’ve been ANY OTHER grand admiral! It just had to be Thrawn. The terrifyingly brilliant and unnervingly keen Grand Admiral that makes his blood run cold every time he so much as looks at him. The one being in all the Empire he’s not confident he can keep his secret hidden from. Well, other than Lord Vader. That thought sends a violent shiver through his body, his stomach threatening to upheave if his mind lingers on the horrifying sith for too long.

He knows Thrawn is intensely thorough, finding even the smallest error or misstep, neither does he show mercy or forgiveness for making. He can manipulate things so that Pryce doesn’t notice his doings but he won’t be able to get away with it for long under Thrawn’s watchful eye.

His throat tightens with fear, wondering if the Ghost Crew would be able to extract him in a few more rotations once he’s slightly more healed. The face of the lasat appears in his mind, grinning down at him with that warm and friendly smile, those ears twitching as his large arm wraps around Kallus’ shoulders guiding him up the ramp of the ship he’d desperately hunted for so long. The thought makes the tension in his body release allowing him to breathe freely again.

With a deep longing and sadness, he ushers the pleasant thought away knowing that he can’t quit now, not when he’s only barely begun to make up for all he’s done. He can’t run away to save his own neck when there’s still so much good he can do for the rebellion.

In all actuality, there’s very…very…little chance of him escaping this role of spy and actually joining the rebels. He’d known that from the beginning when the torgruta had first met with him. It’s even less likely that the lasat would want to be with him romantically, even if he has shown him incredible kindness and mercy, affection even. It’s unproductive to entertain such desires and fantasies as that is all they are likely to remain, especially now that Thrawn is involved.

No, he’s been fortunate enough that Zeb has extended friendship to him as he’s playing out his role as spy, acting as a lifeline for him. But it’s unwise to hope for more, even though he desperately wants it! If he’s lucky, he’ll be able to receive a real hug from the lasat before he’s caught, tortured, and executed for treason. That’s all he can hope for, anything more is just ridiculous. Setting the data pad on the side table, he rolls onto his back to stare miserably at the ceiling.

Despite the lecture he’d just given himself, he can’t help but recall once again how the lasat had held him so carefully, the tender way he’d promised him he’ll be ok and that he won’t leave. Zeb’s gruff voice echoes in his mind, repeating the gentle ‘you’re gonna be ok, it’s alright, yer safe. I’m here. It’s gonna be ok’. His features contort as he fights off the tears, burying his face in his hands as despair and terror overcome him. *********

“Hey guys! Hera’s called a meeting, attendance is mandatory!” Sabine calls out, popping her bright haired head into the guys’ room where they’re lounging on their bunks heatedly debating whether a lothcat or a lothbat would win in a fight. “Good, we can take a vote on it then.” Ezra taunts, jumping from his bunk to fix the lasat with a smug grin, believing himself to be right as always.

“No point. Lothbats have the advantage of gettin’ the higher ground whenever they want. Besides, they’re bigger.” Zeb argues firmly, standing to his full height to tower over his friend with a challenging grin that’s made even the most brazen beings falter. His fur raises slightly at the unbothered look on the teen’s face and he growls as he follows Ezra down the hall to the living area still bickering.
“At the end of the day, one of us is right and the other is you.” Ezra taunts haughtily, grinning as the lasat bares his teeth at him, a sight that would terrify any creature other than his desensitized roommate.

“Lothbats would win. Hands down.” Kanan says flatly, earning an indignant ‘seriously’ from his padawan. “Saw it myself.” He adds seriously, shrugging at the young man as Zeb laughs gruffly and forcefully bumps his shoulder.

“Ok boys, now that we’ve got the important stuff out of the way. We’ve got a new Fulcrum transmission.” Hera says in her playful yet reprimanding tone. Zeb’s ears immediately stand up straight with attention, his brows furrowing deeply with concern. “It’s only been ‘bout 2 weeks. He shouldn’t be back at it yet!” He scolds uselessly, instantly feeling as if he’s said something stupid under Hera and Sabine’s complicated almost sympathetic looks.

“Well, he’s persistent we all know that. And at least we know he’s recovered and doing alright now.” Hera adds gently, giving him a soft smile before tapping a button on the dejark table. But this time, no audio message plays, only the fulcrum symbol appearing with the words ‘thank you’ followed by files upon files.

Upon closer inspection, it’s all the information they could ever need about the records facility they’ve been wanting to infiltrate and then some. Without knowing what exactly the crew needed, it seems the agent thought it best to give them everything he could possibly think would be of value to them regarding the facility. “Wow, this is…comprehensive!” Sabine muses humorously, finding the agent’s thoroughness rather comical.

“I can’t believe he even remembered! He was so loopy when we told him about it and then after everything…” Ezra let’s the rest of his sentence fizzle out, wanting to forget the horrifying state they’d found him in as well as the days of guilt and dread that’d followed.

Pride fills the lasat’s broad chest as he thinks about Kallus, amazed at his tenacity and strength. A soft smile lingers on his face as Hera and Sabine begin going through the files. Seeing the sheer volume of information, Ezra quickly excuses himself before the girls notice muttering something about ‘jedi meditation practice’. Seeing their opportunity to follow suit, Zeb and Kanan begin to back away slowly until Hera shoots them a stern look.

“Oh no, you two are helping! Chop, split the files. You two take half, Sabine and I will take the other half. Settle in, it’ll be a long night.” She commands, rising with Sabine to head to the co*ckpit where they often like to review intel and plan, leaving the two men in the living area sighing resignedly. “I’ll get some coffee going.” Kanan offers, heading to the galley with his friend who rummages through the cabinets for snacks. If they’re doing research, they might as well make it enjoyable after all.

After settling in on the couch with coffee and tarts, Zeb pulls up their half of the files, whistling at the volume and wondering where to start. “Impressive that he got all this. Wonder how he did it.” He muses, scanning the file names to find the most promising one to start with. “No idea. He’s a smart one though, that’s for sure.” Kanan compliments easily, sipping his coffee.

“Yeah, he is.” Zeb agrees absently, the admiration and gentleness in his tone betraying his feelings for the man. Kanan smiles, wondering if Zeb knows how obvious he is. If he keeps up like this even Ezra will pick up on it! “Alright, this looks like a good one.” Zeb announces before reading the file aloud for his friend, making note of anything especially helpful.

“Records keeping…wonder why he spent time there. Doesn’t seem to be a fit for him. He’s very…hands on.” Zeb wonders aloud, his word choice interesting to his friend. “Hm. Maybe he served there while recovering from something. He seems the type who’d stay on active duty until he could go back in the field.” Kanan suggests, finding the theory pretty solid in his opinion.

“It’d be ironic if it were to recover from his leg injury.” He adds, thinking that’d be too on the nose but not completely unlikely. “Hm maybe. Wonder how he lost it in the first place.” The lasat adds thoughtfully, stroking the beard on his chin as his mind mulls over the possibilities, wanting to pull Kallus into his arms and keep his beautiful body safe from all harm. “Wonder if he’ll give us a mountain of files on it if we asked.” Kanan jests lightly, redirecting his friend’s focus back to their task.

For the next hour, the lasat reads aloud file after file, only finding the job bearable due to the fact that the intel came from Kallus and all the thoughts that brings for him to consider. Was it dangerous for him to access this intel? Is he in danger now? What’s he doing now? Is he resting in bed? What does he wear to bed? What would he wear on a date? How would he show his interest in a partner?
“What?” Kanan asks suddenly, interrupting the sentence Zeb is reading to him. “What?” He asks bewildered, looking around the room in confusion.

“You just said something about human flirting. Is that in the file?” Kanan asks, his head turning in Zeb’s direction. The lasat’s cheeks burn fiercely as he stammers for an answer. Had he started thinking aloud while reading the file?! “Oh uh, sorry, Just ah…just been on my mind lately, must’ve slipped out. Just curious I guess.” He stutters, his ears flattening against his head as he rubs the back of his neck, forcing a casual laugh that sounds rather flat.

“I see.” Kanan says serenely, finding it endlessly amusingly to say that to others nowadays. “What did you want to know about it?” He asks in a light tone, pretending not to know why his friend is suddenly interested in such a specific topic. “Oh…I uh…I dunno, just how they go about it at first. Signs I guess?” Zeb stammers, completely caught off guard by his friend’s nonplussed reaction. Maybe he just wants a temporary distraction from the files?

“Well, a lot of humans tend to be cautious at first when establishing whether or not another being is interested in them. They’ll make jokes, buy them gifts, try to pay for any meals or drinks, find ways to get closer to them, to touch them or even hold hands. We lean in and keep eye contact when we want to initiate a kiss, even then we wait for the other to move in as well to ensure that it’s wanted. Let’s see, what else do we do?” He strokes his beard as he thinks, the other arm crossing over his chest.

Zeb’s heart races as he soaks in the information, finding a mass of similarities in how Kallus had acted with him that night when they’d had dinner together. Could he have misread the human’s intentions? Had he not made him feel awkward when he’d held his gaze longer than most humans do…had that blush on his cheeks been because he wanted Zeb to move toward him to approve a kiss he’d wanted to give??? Did he miss his opportunity to experience human kissing with Kallus?? Sensing his friend’s emotions going haywire, Kanan clears his throat to get his attention.

“When I first asked Hera if she would be my girlfriend, my partner, my mate; I tried to make it a very special occasion. I’d already taken her out for the best meal I could afford at the time, we’d already kissed but we hadn’t given ‘us’ an official title which unnerves humans. We need to know where we stand. Even though we’d been in a relationship of sorts for months and were living on the Ghost together with the intention of creating our own crew, I needed to know for sure what ‘we’ were. It was eating me alive not knowing!” He admits, deciding that stories might be the best way to convey the subtleties and complexities of human relationships.

Zeb watches his friend as he speaks, nodding his head absently as he listens with rapt attention, soaking in every detail that may help him. The lasat leans in closer to the human, ears perking as if trying not to miss a single word.

“So, when we landed on Haltata for a mission, I set the intention that I wouldn’t leave the planet without asking her about ‘us’. After a failed pick up and near-death experience, we were rushing back to the Ghost, her lekku blowing in the wind behind her, those brilliant eyes bright with exhilaration. I couldn’t help it; I pulled her into a dark alley and through a maze of streets until we’d lost the trandoshans trailing us. I found a secluded spot with a view of the sun setting over the water. It really was beautiful.” Kanan says with a longing in his tone that makes Zeb’s heart ache for his loss.

“I turned to her, held both her hands in mine and stared into her eyes. I told her how much I loved her, that nearly losing her on the mission made me realize just how important she is to me, how much I need her, how much I’d give to keep her safe. And I asked her, if she would please be my partner, my girlfriend, my mate.” He explains intensely, vividly recalling each desperate word he’d uttered to her in that rush of heated devotion. Zeb’s ears twitch as he waits on the edge of his seat.

“What’d she say?” He urges, knowing it obviously turned out fine but wanting to hear how the romantic exchange had ended. The pair are so private about their relationship so to be privy to the details of such a heartfelt moment of affection between the two feels like quite an honor.

“She laughed.” Kanan says flatly with a small grin playing at his lips. Both Zeb’s ears and his expectant expression drops, unable to imagine the kind twi’lek laughing in her lover’s face after such a sincere proclamation of love. The jedi chuckles amusedly, envisioning the dumbfounded expression he’s sure is on his friend’s face, having known him for so long.

“She didn’t realize humans need to officially label their relationship. She considered me her mate since our first kiss and had thought I did too.” He explains with a laugh, finding his own past ignorance humorous in hindsight. “It’s just the kind of misunderstanding that can happen between species.” He adds with a shrug, having experienced many more with his lover ever since.

“Fortunately, it turned out alright. We learned to be more open and communicate better when we felt slighted or uneasy about something. Communication is key.” Hera’s gentle voice startles Zeb, having not heard her and Sabine enter the room. Her expression is soft yet the way she looks at the lasat makes his fur ruffle as if she sees through him and is trying to give him helpful information but that could only mean…He gulps, suddenly feeling very odd.

She turns to Kanan instead, smiling lovingly at her partner who senses her affection without having to see it. “Let’s call it a night boys. We found enough to form a solid plan.” She adds, earning relieved sighs and grateful looks from the two men.

After saying ‘goodnight’ to the rest, Zeb shuffles into his room shaking his head at the sleeping teen who’d somehow wiggled out of the work. ‘Hera probably still feels bad about sending him out on that supply run an gettin’ him captured.’ He thinks, shrugging with tired disapproval. It takes him a few moments to find a good position before his body settles on his bunk but his mind reels with all he’d learned about human relations.

He replays all the times he’d had with the golden-eyed human, his stomach twisting with excitement as he reframes all the awkward moments as perhaps misunderstandings and missed opportunities. From what Kanan had said, it seems that the human might actually be open to his advances should he be brave enough to make any. But most humans don’t seem to find his species very attractive. Most actually call him things like ‘monster’ or ‘creature’ which he finds deeply offensive though he pretends it doesn’t affect him.

Wouldn’t a handsome human male like Kallus prefer a pretty, petite female probably of his same species? A deep frown pulls at his lips, a jealous anger flaring in his chest at the thought of Kallus with a human woman. He has spent 20 years in the Empire after all, surrounded by all that nonsense about human superiority. Would he adhere to that dogma as well? A part of him says absolutely not.

He’s already deduced that the man is far more complicated than he appears, far from everything anyone would assume him to be. Following that logic then, it would make sense if he were attracted to nonhumans. But would he like Zeb? With his claws, fangs, and fur? Most humans find that a bit too different from their own physiology to be acceptable. But Kallus isn’t the type to shy away from what deters most, always up for a challenge. He’d probably find their differences exciting.

The thought makes his heart flutter, thoughts go fuzzy as he imagines what it’d be like to explore those differences with him. What it’d be like for Kallus to run his hands through the fur on his chest and stomach. What it’d be like to touch that smooth, nearly furless skin of the human’s body. What it’d feel like to hold such a large and muscular human close, feeling skin against fur and comparing the most sensitive areas. To show him how lasat show affection and scent the fur on his face. He imagines Kallus imitating the gesture, making his stomach flutter happily. To let Kallus show him how human kissing works. A smile pulls at his lips, quickly delving deeper into fantasy.

“Have you ever been in love before?” Ezra’s voice suddenly pierces the silent room, jarring him from his delightful thoughts, his heart nearly jumping from his chest. “Wha…what?” He asks tightly, fearing the kid had somehow picked up on the emotions he’d been indulging through that mysterious force.

“Have you ever been in love?” He repeats, sounding a bit timid, the way he gets when he’s unsure of himself, when he’s vulnerable. Zeb blinks idly around the darkened cabin, the light in the hall dimly shines through the bottom of the door casting soft light around their shared quarters. “I just…I’m just curious. Seeing Hera and Kanan, hearing him say all that earlier. I just wondered what it’s like.” The teen adds with a light shrug as if it’s not a big deal to him.

“Wait, you were ease droppin’?” Zeb accuses gruffly, glaring at the bunk above him reprovingly. He’d lectured him endlessly back when he’d first joined them about privacy in the small ship and how not all conversations are for him to hear. The only way to keep peace in such living conditions is to respect each other’s need for space.

“No, just came to get a snack and didn’t want to interrupt. Then, I didn’t want to get caught by Hera, so I snuck back.” He admits sheepishly, being honest with his friend who growls softly in response. A few long moments pass, the teen’s impatience compelling him to press the lasat for an answer.

“Sooooo?” He urges lightly, keeping his tone casual to not provoke suspicion or teasing. Zeb sighs heavily, feeling exhausted and wanting to be left alone to entertain his private thoughts about Kallus. But his desire to help his beloved family outweighs his own selfish desires.

“Yeah, I have.” He admits quietly, the heaviness in his gruff voice piquing the teen’s interest as well as his concern. “What’s it like?” Ezra asks gently, the openness in his tone making the lasat’s heart warm, wanting to pull the kid into a hug. Considering instead the best way to answer the question, his mind instantly roams to Kallus and the bliss he feels whenever they’re alone, his stomach clenching painfully as he remembers the torment he’d been in worrying over whether he’d survived or not.

“It’s wonderful and terrible.” He answers truthfully, knowing the simple statement won’t be enough to satisfy the teen but hoping for once the kid’ll take a hint and drop the subject. It takes a few long moments for him to settle the two strong emotions warring for his attention. ‘Kal’s safe now, he’s ok and soon I’ll force him to quit spyin’ and come home with me.’ He assures himself, mouthing a silent ‘karabast’ as the teen speaks up once more.

“R-really? Why is it like that though?” Ezra asks cautiously, his curiosity too strong to deter him from asking despite feeling that the lasat doesn’t want to expand on it. Zeb racks his mind, trying to think of a different way to explain it instead of outright telling the kid how he feels when he’s with Kallus and the agony of worrying over someone you love so dearly. Zeb sighs heavily, rubbing his large hand over his face before continuing.

“Back on lasan when I was young an in the Honor Guard on patrol one day around the capital, I met the most beautiful lasat I’d ever seen. The royal princesses were renowned for their beauty but they weren’t anythin’ compared to her! I fell in love the moment I saw her.” He says dully, cursing his younger ignorant self for falling for someone so desperately over such a shallow thing.

“I tripped over my own feet when our eyes met, made a fool of myself but she laughed and the sound was music to me. We got to talkin’ and it was like we’d known each other our whole lives, like it was so easy to talk to her, so natural. For some reason, she agreed to let me take her out that night and…it was wonderful. It just felt right. I’d never felt so happy, like nothin’ could ever go wrong so long as I had her ‘round.” Zeb explains, the past longing that’d been so debilitating feeling more like a long-forgotten dream he’d once had as a kit.

“We were together for years. My Gran was even helpin’ me plan on how to ask her to be my life mate.” He says, his heart aches more for his beloved Gran than the lost love he’d once harbored.
Ezra’s only ever heard Zeb use that kind of tone that time they had rescued the two lasat and he’d hidden in his room to ruminate on his agonized past. His eyes grow wide, blood freezing with dread that his friend may have lost this woman when he’d lost his home world. The young man opens and closes his mouth, grimacing slightly at the situation he’d put them in.

“What…what happened?” Ezra asks cautiously, bracing for the worst. “She called it off.” Zeb says lightly, past resentment and agony just a soft dull ache now. “What?!” The teen protests, brows knitting as he hurls his upper half over the side of the bunk to look at his friend. Zeb shrugs resignedly, muscular arms still crossed over his broad chest.

“I was Honor Guard. She was a pacifist; hated the thought of fightin’ and wanted me to quit. But fightin’ is what I do, it’s in my blood, it’s who I am! Least that’s what I thought back then. An I had a duty to the Royal Family and my planet! I couldn’t step down and she wouldn’t accept it. She broke it off, found some other guy to settle down with ‘bout a month later. I was devastated. She said she hated violence but it felt like she’d clawed through my chest an tore out my heart.” He says darkly, the ghost of the pain lingering in his heart quickly overrun with the thought of Kallus.

“That’s horrible.” Ezra notes sadly, the sorrowful expression making the lasat wave his sympathy away. “Tha’s why I said, it was wonderful and terrible. Then ya got couples like Hera an Kanan, those that are on the same page that’re meant to work out. Can’t judge em all by my experience. But even then, you worry nonstop ‘bout your mate, not wantin’ anythin’ bad to happen to em. Remember how bad a state Hera was in when Kanan got captured? Love is beautiful and terrible.” He assures, trying to dispel the teen’s dismay while setting realistic expectations.

He nods as if deep in thought, finding the words to be acceptable. Those bright blue eyes turn back to the lasat on the bunk beneath him, an unrelenting interest in them that makes Zeb’s fur ruffle with foreboding. “You’ve never been in love after her, though?” Ezra presses curiously, eyebrows raising at the odd look Zeb briefly holds, as if he’d just taken a bite of something he’d rather spit out.

Just then the door slides open, making the two jump in shock, Ezra cursing under his breath as his head hits the ceiling. Zeb’s tensed muscles relax with relief as the little Mandalorian sleepily enters the room and silently climbs into his bunk, nestling against him for comfort against whatever nightmare had plagued her. He wraps his large arms around her, grateful that she’d saved him from having to answer the teen’s question.

Sabine jerks slightly as she drifts to sleep, elbowing him in almost the exact spot Kallus had when they’d woken on Bahryn together. The thought pulls a smile from him, a perfect route to take back to the agent and the possibilities the future holds.

Chapter 16: Truths and Fantasies

Chapter Text

The office is deathly silent, the hum of the massive ship filling his senses as he unhurriedly replays the medidroid’s visual memory bank once more. The audio is damaged beyond repair but the intel it contains is nevertheless of great value. Pausing the recording, he checks the data pad to the left of the holo before him, confirming the two males’ identities as the jedi the ISB agent had been pursuing for over a year. Unpausing the holo, his red eyes narrow as he watches the blind man settle into the chair beside the agent, their expressions and body language open as they engage in what appears to be friendly banter.

Even though the agent…Kallus…is heavily drugged, a rivalry of that length should have snapped the human from such a stupor. His expression is far too at ease and amiable to be excused away by the delirium of painkillers and medical procedures. And if this rebel cell is indeed the one to kidnap and maim him, why is the young padawan looking at him with such care and concern? His keen mind searches every plausible and implausible answer as he watches the jedi leave the room.

Minutes later, a kel dor and a nikto slip in through the same door, their demeanor appropriate for beings intending to kidnap and torture. The holo is jarred around at a spinning pace as the medidroid tries unsuccessfully to fend off the two intruders, finding once settled that its patient is no longer in the room. The droid frantically scans the halls, setting off the alarm before rushing off in pursuit of the kidnappers.

‘Interesting. But who are these gentlemen?’ He muses, mulling through his mental list of small rebel cells that had formed in the sector and surrounding regions then through the formidable list of enemies the agent had acquired through years of service. The attackers pause at the entrance of what looks like an outdated water drainage system, turning on the medidroid before blasting it. The holo becomes merely static which he allows to remain in front of him as he contemplates this mess.

Unlike his dull human peers, the whole scenario hadn’t sat right with him from the beginning. It isn’t logical for the principled rebel cell to suddenly stoop to such brutal measures nor did the agent’s vague account of the ordeal make much sense. Yes, he was heavily drugged and had been subjected to ruthless torture but he is ISB after all; he’s been trained to withstand such treatment and still be able to recall vivid details of his imprisonment and interrogation.

At first, he’d suspected the agent had cracked under interrogation and was merely trying to cover up his weakness by feigning ignorance. Now it is clear there is something far more sinister at play and he will get to the bottom of it. A blue finger presses firmly on the comm button on his neatly organized desk, the trooper on the other line replying instantly.

“Dispatch a troop immediately to search the abandoned water drainage system on Syran. Any signs of recent captivity or hostility must be reported directly to me. And…no one else is to know of this. Understood?” Thrawn commands languidly, his tepid and unhurried tone thoroughly unsettling. The trooper utters a firm ‘sir yes sir’ before jumping to his task.

The chiss steeples his fingers, resting his elbows on the desk as he studies the stylized art decorating the massive wall recently brought to his office; his newest art acquisition. These rebels are intriguing indeed. They’d visited their rival…safe to presume ex-rival…at the medical facility, then pursued him and his captors into the underground tunnels with what he presumes was the intention to rescue him.
If they considered the agent a threat, it wouldn’t make sense for them to extract him. After all he’d done to them over the years, even if they are principled, it would be in their best interest to let him die there. If they did rescue him, surely it wouldn’t have been to kidnap him themselves. No, they were attempting to bring him back to the medical facility. But why? The only logical explanation is that he’s acting as their spy.

But yet again…why? Why would a passionate and devoted agent with a stunning career suddenly defect to aid those he’s been hunting for years? He’s been loyal to the Empire for two thirds of his life! What would make him betray all he’d stood so firmly for? ******

A deep growl he’s been holding in for hours rumbles in his chest, reverberating up into his throat. He shakes his head and grits his teeth, ears flattening and twitching with irritation from the grating job they’d barely survived. What’s the kid thinking trusting that criminal? Taking sides with Hondo, trying to load his “treasure” for him before the proton bombs his family so desperately needs! He exhales deeply, lightly hitting a fist on the locked fresher door pressing against his back where he’s leaning on it.

How angry the kid had been when Hera put him in charge, how snippet he’d been with him, favoring Hondo’s company over Zeb’s! It kills him to see the kid’s expression each time that manipulative, slimy man betrays him! And every time, the kid keeps giving him another chance! Like he’s desperate for friendship. Like he’s not already adored by his family who’d never dream of double crossing him! His fur stands on end with frustration. At least the slimy pirate is off the ship along with that monstrosity he’d teamed up with!

And the kid is safe. And the proton bombs are tucked away in the cargo bay. And he’s alive as well. The family’s together and safe once again. ‘Except Kal’ rings through his thoughts, tightening his chest with longing and sadness. They hadn’t heard anything from their fulcrum since he’d given them that mass of intel on the facility. But he knows Sabine is monitoring Imperial transmissions, so if anything had happened to him, they’d’ve known about it by now. He just can’t help but worry about the man.

He lets out a long sigh, knowing there’s little he can do and that worrying won’t change anything. Body aching from the mission and close escape, he slowly peels off his jumpsuit, placing it in the cleaner and inputting the timer. With a smile, he decides he’d earned a water shower. Pressing a few buttons, a content smile crosses his face as the warm water cascades from above, rolling through the fur on his body and easing his aching muscles.

Taking his time, he rubs soap between his hands and lathers it through the fur on his neck, shoulders, and chest down to his belly. His mind roams as it often does to Kallus, wondering if he prefers water showers. The skin on his cheeks burn slightly as he recalls the memory of when he’d witnessed the man in the shower, implying his preference. The alluring frame of Kallus' muscular body graces his mind’s eye with every last tantalizing curve he’d seen.

Lost in the delightful memory, his hand roams down to his slit, rubbing the sheath’s opening as he thinks about the handsome agent. As he massages the sensitive area, he stifles the soft moan rumbling in his throat, wondering how long it’s been since he last relieved himself. With how quickly his body is responding, it’s clear it’s been quite a while. He bites back another moan as his tip peeks through the sheath, his hand gently caressing the slick head, coaxing it out further.

His head falls back as he presses against the wall, the water cascading down the front of his body and mixing with the lubricant his male parts produce making his hand glide effortlessly along the hardening flesh. His large hand wraps firmly around the thick, dark purple co*ck as it fully unsheathes, pumping quickly as he always does. What would Kallus’ hand feel like around him? The thought sends a thrill through his body, his back arching with eagerness. Would it fit around him? Kallus is a large human after all, with very large strong hands. Surely, he’d be able to fit around him, at least mostly.

How would he touch him though? He bites his bottom lip with the thought, imagining the wall behind him is the human pressing against him, his arms snaking around his body to hungrily stroke his co*ck. Slow, languid, and methodical; that’s how the disciplined and patient agent would touch him. He slows his pace greatly, keeping each stroke measured as his other hand sneaks down to massage his balls. Kallus is thorough after all, surely he’d approach the task from multiple angles.

His hips thrust into the imagined grip of the man, desperate for him to go faster as he imagines the man’s naked body pressing against him, feeling his human co*ck brush against his backside. Would he rub it against him? On his thigh or between his ass cheeks? The thought thrills him, nearly pulling a cry of pleasure from him. He hadn’t expected the notion of another male grinding against him to be so arousing.

He tugs lightly on his balls, massaging the sensitive sack in a way that makes his already throbbing co*ck twitch with delight. Imaginary Kallus trails kisses and bites down his neck and shoulder as he grinds against him, pumping Zeb faster with his own need. His hips buck wildly as he strokes harder and faster, his balls pulling tightly up as his release nears. ‘Come for me Zeb’ Kallus’ velvet voice commands, echoing through his mind. He bites his bottom lip firmly, head falling back as his vision blurs, the pleasure coursing through his body overwhelming all senses.

‘Kal! Karabast, Kal!’ he moans quietly as he rides the powerful org*sm, spilling his seed all over the ground before him as his body trembles with pleasure. He keeps stroking himself idly, riding out the aftershocks that leave him gasping and moaning softly, imagining the human behind him holding him firmly in place, grounding him while he slowly comes to. Green eyes look down at the softening co*ck in his hand, wishing it were being caressed by the human’s furless hand instead.

Feeling both physically satisfied and emotionally discontent, he released the spent member and pushes away from the wall to wash himself properly, wondering what it would feel like for Kallus to wash his body. Those hands running through his wet fur, massaging his muscles as their bodies press close together. The thought feels even more intimate that the ones’ he’d just indulged and brings a slight blush to his cheeks. ********

Catastrophic blunt force trauma. That’s what the autopsy states as the cause of death of the kel dor and nikto. Studying the gruesome images of the unfortunate duo, he’s sure whatever caused such physical damage must be a being of immense strength and stature. And judging by the ruthlessness of the injuries, the being must have been beside itself with rage.

Jedi are able to inflict such harm to a sentient being but their strict moral code would prevent them from doing so. The only member of the rebel cell capable of such a feat is the lasat, whose arms the agent had been found in before the rebels discarded him to flee.

This is interesting because the lasat is…or rather was…Kallus’ rival. The agent had even played a part in destroying the lasat’s home world. Why would he be that enraged finding the human in such a state? The answer is obvious, though it raises many other questions.

When did the lasat fall for the agent? There are no records of them being alone in a situation where they might spend time together, find mutual ground or something of the sorts to make him begin to like the human. Unless of course, the agent hadn’t reported such a run in with the lasat. His red eyes narrow as his keen mind roams through the files he’d memorized about the agent, one particular incident standing out.

The ice moon he’d been stranded on. The report was uncharacteristically brief for the overly thorough human and had mentioned only that the lasat had been in the escape pod when it took off but had disappeared when the agent came to. An obvious lie. The two must have spent the night together, perhaps even shared body heat to survive. A perfect situation for the two to put aside their rivalry and form a kinship of sorts.

So, was it the agent’s defection that caused the lasat to fall in love with him? Or was it the lasat’s love that made the agent defect?

He muses all possible answers as he opens the restricted file on the agent, revealing all the more intimate matters concerning him during his Imperial career. No record of romantic or sexual relations within the Empire, hinting that the man may prefer nonhumans. The thought makes one side of his mouth twitch upward. If he did reject the human superiority dogma of the Empire then he may have gotten along with the human after all, had he not been a spy that is. Pity.

Pressing forward with a calm and collected demeanor, he opens the most intimate files of the agent, scanning through all the times he’d utilized those ‘rented rooms’ the Empire offers special access to. It never ceases to amaze him how human agents and officers don’t realize that their requests of gender, species, etc. are being monitored and recorded. As he’d suspected, the man very obviously prefers large nonhuman males.

So, it is the human weakness of love after all. Despite years of rivalry, the agent and the rebel had fallen in love with one another. Judging by the actions of the rest of the rebel cell, they know and support the relationship meaning the agent is probably acting as a spy for them. His red eyes roam to the phoenix painted on that large wall in his office, staring as he considers his deductions, finding them nearly without flaw.

As certain as he is, there remains the possibility that he is wrong, however unlikely. He will tread lightly with the agent, triple check every report he submits and watch his movements closely, collecting all evidence of his defection. Once absolutely certain, he will use the agent, turn him into a weapon to inflict harm upon his beloved rebels and snuff out the cell once and for all. *****

Heart pounding in his ears, he barks a few orders as he marches calmly down the hall to the safety of his own quarters forcing himself not to full out run. Once the door locks behind him, he releases the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, nearly doubling over with terror as he gasps for air. Golden eyes roam frantically around the room as he replays the curt holo meeting with the terrifying chiss, his stomach nearly upheaving with the suspicion that somehow he knows. He forces himself not to think about the horrors that await high-level Imperial defectors, the gruesome thought too terrifying to consider.

But the man hadn’t outright given him any indication that he’s onto him and everything he’d said could be taken multiple ways. It’s just the chiss’ calm tone and demeanor devoid of emotion and expression that’s unnerving him, making him think the man knows. That is a quality of the Admiral that he’d heard of before that makes everyone second guess themselves; his collected demeanor making him appear like he knows everything. But he can't shake the feeling that the chiss knows!

After deep breathing does little to calm the maelstrom in his chest, he pours himself a tall glass of rhodian whisky. The liquid warms his chest and stomach, feeling like an internal embrace that brings a timid smile to his face. Closing his eyes he pictures the lasat’s face the first time he’d tried the delicious drink, the way his eyes widened comically and ears twitched with delight in that endearing way of his.

Feeling slightly better, he peels off the rigid uniform and thin undergarments and stuffs them unceremoniously into the cleaner in the wall, pulling on a pair of undershorts before sitting on his bed. The cool air on his bare chest is soothing as his body warms with another glass of whisky, the blessed liquid calming his frazzled nerves and easing his mind. ‘I’ve got to figure out a better way to deal with the chiss, otherwise I’ll become a full-blown alcoholic.’ He thinks, snorting at his own dark humor.

Looking to the data pad on the desk, he considers searching yet again for information on lasat but stops himself, knowing he’d already memorized what little the few articles offered. He leans back against the wall instead, nursing his drink slowly as he imagines Zeb’s expression if he told him of the conversation he’d had with Thrawn and how shaken it’d left him. He chuckles, allowing himself to believe the lasat would demand he come back with him this time, even throw him over his muscular shoulder to drag him back to the Ghost.

An openly longing smile graces his features as he looks down at the empty glass in his hands, the thought of the massive rebel manhandling him a bit too much to take. If he were in his right mind, he’d dismiss the fancy but in this state he can’t quite stop himself from entertaining his desire. Giving in to himself, he puts away the glass, turns the lights out, and settles under the covers, imagining those powerful arms wrapping securely around him, holding him close.

What would the lasat’s body feel like pressed against his backside? Warm, furry, and impossibly comfortable. Those massive muscles locking him in place, weighing his body down and forcing him to remain still. He tries to recall his ‘lasat smell’, imagining the man rubbing his scent against his cheek, neck, and shoulder, anywhere his face could reach. The idea of the handsome man scenting him, claiming him, while holding him close sends a thrill of delight through his body.

“Oh” he breathes in surprise, feeling his nearly erect member twitch with urgent need. He hadn’t even realized how strongly his body was reacting to the initially innocent fantasy! He bites his lower lip, struggling against the strong urge to pleasure himself to the thought of the lasat. But his half drunken mind relents far easier than his normal self, his hand dipping beneath the covers to release his throbbing member from its confines.

A soft gasp escapes him as he begins palming himself, thrills of pleasure coursing through his hips, belly, and thighs. He imagines the hulking, muscular lasat pressing his formidable body against his backside, writhing and grinding against him, wondering what sounds he’d make. Does he growl when aroused? Would he purr once he finishes? Would he like to bite with those sharp beautiful fangs? The thought pulls a deep moan from him that he stifles expertly from years of practice.

His hips begin thrusting as he continues to stroke his hard, throbbing member to the thought of those fangs trailing over the fragile skin of his neck and throat, bucking vigorously as the fangs clamp down on the crook of his neck. ‘Kriff, Zeb more! I need more!’ He moans quietly, sucking on his fingers before bringing them behind him where the lasat’s co*ck would be. Desperately he plays with his own entrance, pushing in before he’s ready with two fingers that draws a hissing gasp from him.

The pain feels so good though, imagining the impatience of the hot headed lasat and how big his member must be. His body quickly relaxes with the thought, accepting the penetration without further argument. He imagines the gruff, desperate sounds Zeb would make as he thrusts into him, that brusque voice making his stomach warm with desire. He pumps his co*ck harder as he adds a third finger inside him, imagining the lasat’s growl of pleasure as he fully enters him.

His hips buck back and forth, intense pleasure coming from both front and behind as he wildly f*cks himself to the fantasy of Zeb taking him from behind. Breath coming in short gasps, he strokes his co*ck faster as he feels himself nearing his release. He imagines the muscular man grunting and thrusting deep inside him before growling with pleasure, the thought of Zeb coming inside him throwing him over the edge.

He grits his teeth to keep himself from shouting, a loud moan rumbling in his throat with the intense overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body. He catches his own seed in his hand, spreading it over his throbbing hot co*ck as he strokes himself through his org*sm and the aftershocks that follow. Panting, he slowly removes his fingers imagining the lasat’s softening member slowly slipping out of him.

It takes a few minutes for him to regain composure, deciding it best to shower before allowing sleep to claim him. He smiles as he crosses the room to the small private fresher, realizing he can also imagine the handsome lasat joining him. **********

Chapter 17: I'll always take care of you

Chapter Text

The young boy sits as still as stone on the patched couch in the living room, his golden eyes staring blankly ahead. It felt like hours since the screaming had stopped. Hours since his father had exited the bedroom with a pale and lost expression. Hours since he’d told Alexsandr that his mother was gone, that she hadn’t made it. Tears idly stream from his large eyes, his small shoulders sagging with loss.

“Son?” His father’s broken voice calls out softly, startling the boy from the daze he’d been in. The massive man kneels down to look his boy in the eyes. He places a giant, warm hand on his small shoulder, wiping uselessly at the boy’s damp cheeks. As soon as they’re dry, fresh tears roll down once more. “Do you want to say goodbye?” He asks quietly, his voice breaking with pain as he blinks back his own tears, trying desperately to keep it together for his child.

Kallus stares at his father blankly. He’d never seen him cry, never seen him look so defeated and lost. Wanting nothing more than to be held in his mother’s arms, he nods weakly. His father wraps his strong arms around him, lifting the child easily into the air. His small fists curl in the fabric of his father’s shirt, resting his cheek on his shoulder as he braces himself.

The bedroom is deathly quiet, lit by a single dim lamp that casts long shadows across the room. A midwife nods solemnly as they enter, standing silently in the back of the room as they pay their respects. The young boy trembles as his father sets him down next to the bed. For a long moment he hesitates, not wanting to face reality.

Taking a steadying breath, he nervously approaches the bedside staring at his mother’s unmoving profile. He wants to call out to her, wake her from this slumber as he’d done so many times after suffering nightmares. But he knows better. He’s small for his age but he’s 6 and understands the concept of death, seen it before. But he’d never understood how terribly it’d hurt the living.

She looks peaceful, at complete odds with the chaotic agony thrashing within him. Her beautiful features are just the same as they were hours ago, only there is no smile waiting for him on those lips. He’ll never see her bright eyes glimmer with affection as they meet his. Never hear her soothing voice telling him ‘It’ll be ok’. Never hear her joyful laugh nor her calming lullabies.

His throat chokes slightly as his eyes flood with tears. A small hand moves forward to brush his mother’s cheek. The pale skin is terribly cold yet just as soft as it’d always been. Face twisting with pain, he gently wraps his arms around her neck clinging to her for the last time. The boy’s shoulders shake as he sobs, wishing she would wrap him in her warm embrace once more.

“I love you mom.” He whispers into her lifeless ear, the earnest and agonized words heard by no one. ‘I love you too sweetheart’ the memory of her gentle voice echoing in his mind, how many times a day she’d said it throughout his life. Now only a memory. He feels his father’s large hand rubbing circles on his back in a futile effort to comfort him.

Slowly, he releases her, patting her shoulder idly. He gingerly tidies the strands of her long hair he’d disheveled while mourning, knowing she wouldn’t want to look a mess. The loving and respectful gesture breaks his father’s heart, having to look away and grit his teeth hard to keep himself from sobbing. He squeezes his son’s shoulder to comfort the boy as much as himself.

The two slowly retreat from the bedside, allowing the nurse to courteously draw the thin white sheet over their beloved’s face. “Alexsandr…why don’t you go back to the living room? I’ll be there shortly.” His father’s voice is heavily strained, like the sound thin permacrete makes when placed under too much pressure; as if it were about to break.

The boy nods solemnly, glancing one last time at his mother’s profile before leaving the bedroom. It feels as if a void had opened in his small chest as he hears the anguished cry through the closed door behind him. He stands frozen, staring at the floor listening to his father’s agony as tears stream down his own face.

“Alexsandr? Come sit here darling, I have someone you should meet.” Another midwife calls gently from across the room, cradling a bundle of cloth in her arms. In a daze, the child instantly obeys, settling on the couch where she’d directed him. “This is your sister, Alexsandr.” The nurse settles beside the young boy, moving so that he can see the tiny face swaddled within the cloth.

Golden eyes, still glistening with tears of lament, widen with wonder at the tiny being before them. His sister.

“Do you want to hold her?” She asks gently, smiling warmly at the eager nearly desperate look on the small boy’s face. With utmost care, he accepts the little bundle into his arms, wrapping them protectively around the baby, his baby sister. An overwhelming need to keep her safe floods his being as he stares in awe. She’s the most precious, beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Will she have their mother’s eyes? The thought sends a thrill of hope through his battered heart, feeling as if there’s a reason to keep going now. Their mother is gone but a part of her lives on in this amazing little being in his arms. His bottom lip trembles with emotion, already reddened eyes glistening with affection as he stares transfixed at his little sibling.

Seeing how responsibly the boy tends to the baby and how dedicated to her safety he appears, the midwife entrusts her to his care as she assists her partner in the bedroom.

The boy barely registers her brief words before she leaves him, too enthralled by the amazing little being in his arms. He chokes back tears, not wanting them to fall on the baby. “I promise, I’ll always take care of you. I love you so much.” He promises sincerely, feeling it in the fabric of his very being.

The tiny baby’s mouth twitches, a soft coo escaping as she snuggles deeper into the swaddling clothes as if in response. A warm, affectionate smile crosses the boy’s face at the small movement, the void in his chest knitting back together.

Chapter 18: A night alone with Agent Kallus

Chapter Text

The overly lavish, massive personal quarters are silent save for the occasional soft curse of the Mandalorian behind the desk in the open concept office. Her slim fingers nimbly work the data pad, scouring its contents for the file she’s after. “Got it!” She hisses victoriously behind her helmet, inserting the empty data card to extract the intel.

Hearing voices approaching, Sabine curses ‘Karabast!’ under her breath. She urges the files to transfer faster even as the footsteps grow louder. Without a moment to spare, the intel extraction is finally complete and she snatches the card back just as the door to the massive living area opens. Left with no other option, she dives beneath the desk and waits for an opportunity to sneak past the intruders.

“Come now, be a good boy for your Senator. You are quite handsome, you know.” A woman’s voice slurs in a tone meant to be seductive. “I believe you’ve had a bit too much, madame Senator.” A deep voice responds curtly, piquing Sabine’s interest. The teen flattens down on the ground, trying to peer through the small gap between the desk and floor to confirm if the owner of that voice is who she thinks it is. Unfortunately, she can only see two sets of shoes.

“Let me see how you look without all this on.” The Senator purrs coyly, the sound of hands grabbing at fabric painting the picture for Sabine. The drunken official must be trying to manhandle and disrobe her escort! “Senator, you should get to bed.” The man says more firmly and this time she’s almost positive it is who she thinks it is. A soft moan escapes the senator before she slurs ‘what a great idea’.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Sabine pokes her head slightly around the side of the desk, grimacing as she sees the older clearly inebriated woman grabbing roughly at the agent’s pristinely pressed uniform. Not just any agent. The golden hair and unmistakable facial hair belonging to none other than their Fulcrum agent, Kallus. But what the heck is he doing on the Senator’s transport in the first place?

He grunts quietly as one of her hands dives below his polished belt, grabbing roughly at the bulge beneath. The Senator pulls at the collar of his tunic trying fruitlessly to force him down into a kiss. Nearing the end of his patience, he roughly grabs both her wrists, forcing his expression to remain neutral despite his irritation.

“Like it rough, do we? I’d hoped for nothing less.” The Senator muses, stumbling slightly as she tries to get closer to his body. Sabine briefly considers helping the agent but just then the older woman’s face pales, a sickened look crossing her rather pretty features.

“Let’s get you to the fresher.” Kallus commands firmly, quickly leading her past the lavish furniture of the living area into what could only be the senator’s bedroom. Sabine frowns as she hears the retching sounds, gagging slightly as she wills her own stomach to remain calm.

She’s about to make a break for it but freezes as the engines of the massive ship roar to life. There’s not enough time to get out. She quickly taps at the buttons on her vambrace, transmitting to her family that she is safe but unable to escape at the moment. ‘Karabast!’ she can’t help but groan. She never fails her solo missions! Ezra’s never going to let her hear the end of it.

“Agent…come join meeee.” The Senator’s slurred voice calls out, muffled against what must be a pillow. “I’ll be back.” Kallus responds languidly, his flat tone relaying no intention of returning. The bedroom door slides shut and he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose until he hears light snoring on the other side of the door.

The room is silent, save for his heavy footfalls unhurriedly moving around the living area as he inspects for threats and recording devices. After ensuring the space is clear, he moves to the connected office, nose wrinkling at the overly gaudy décor.

He jumps back slightly, a soft ‘oh’ escaping him as the familiar figure in brightly colored Mandalorian armor suddenly shoots up from behind the desk. After regaining his composure, he can’t help but roll his eyes. How do these rebels keep appearing like this?!

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He greets casually, resuming his inspection of the room. The teen meanders to the front of the desk, leaning against it and crossing her arms like she owns the place. “Could say the same. Our intel said she isn’t supposed to be back for another 2 hours.” Sabine says, jabbing her thumb toward the bedroom door.

“Well, she overindulged at the political gala. I had to extract her before she caused a scene or worse.” Kallus explains tersely, sounding rather tired or perhaps frustrated, she doesn’t know him well enough to tell.

“Ah…was she getting handsy with the other delegates too?” She teases lightly, her head co*cking to the side as he momentarily freezes. “I apologize for her behavior. Senators tend to think they can do what they want without consequence.” Kallus says with distaste, hating that the young lady had to witness someone acting in such a manner.

“But you’re ISB. She can’t just harass you like that.” The teen states, eyes widening behind her helmet as the agent snorts darkly. “Senators hold a unique position within the Empire. So long as they don’t anger the Emperor, he’ll turn a blind eye to their indulgences even when it comes to ISB.” He explains shortly, hands roaming over the bookcase shelves for listening devices.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks cautiously, his reserved expression making her brace with apprehension. His golden eyes take in her tense body language before he returns his attention to the shelves. Kallus shrugs easily and explains in his most casual and calming tone.

“It’s common for Senators to request an ISB escort when they need to travel across ‘unsecure’ systems. However, most of them, like our dear Senator Piiya there, have ulterior motives. Because of the position they hold, they can severely damage ones ISB career if their ‘advances’ are refused.”

Sabine yanks off her helmet and fixes him with an exasperated look, brown eyes wide with alarm. “Are you serious? They force agents to sleep with them and just get away with it?!” She demands heatedly, her expression faltering as he hisses for her to quiet down. They listen quietly for a few long moments, Kallus continuing after ensuring no one outside had heard.

“Unfortunately, yes. But I’ve developed a method to bypass it.” He says conspiratorially, the mischievous grin on his face making her eyes narrow as a small smile tugs at her thin lips. Satisfied that the office is not bugged or rigged, the agent sinks into the padded office chair behind the desk. He shrugs and explains simply. “Get them drunk out of their wits.”

“Once they pass out, I drink their booze, order room service, and take the night off.” Kallus admits with a playful smirk on his handsome face. Her eyebrows raise as she looks at the man, her smile broadening slowly. “You take time off?” She teases, unable to picture the agent doing so of his own accord.

Shrugging, he adds as if in defense. “The guards expect me to stay there all night anyway. In the morning, I'd pretend we’d had a wild night and they’ll think they blacked out since the booze is gone and there are plates of half-eaten food left around. Perfect plan.” He adds with a mischievous smile, eyebrows raising as he co*cks his head to the side.

Sabine huffs a laugh as she studies his nonchalant expression, lost for words. It’s comical that the rigid agent would employ such antics to cheat the system but also unsettling that he’d need to. Had he learned the senators’ motives from firsthand experience or from hearing rumors? Had he ever been forced to…she pushes that uncomfortable thought away.

The ship jerks suddenly, signaling they’ve entered hyperdrive. No possible escape, nowhere to go. She’s stuck, alone with a grown man until the ship arrives at its destination and who knows how long that will be! Even though there’s a desk between them in the spacious office she suddenly can’t help but feel a bit too close to the agent. And the lingering notion of sexual encounters makes her muscles tense further with anxious energy.

“Guess I’m not going anywhere for a while.” She grumbles, rolling her eyes before sitting stiffly in the seat opposite Kallus, holding her helmet tightly in her lap against her belly.

Though she believes the man’s changed and is on their side, she has no idea what his true personality is like nor where his morals align. Zeb trusts him wholly but he’s a giant, very much intimidating man which generally makes other guys want to stay in line. How would the agent behave without the lasat there? She’s thoroughly confident in her own fighting skills but she’s also seen Kallus best Zeb before, which she’s not sure she could even do. Would she be able to take the agent in a fight?

“The journey should take about 6 hours. Have you notified your family?” He asks lightly, his use of the term ‘family’ rather than ‘crew’ not going unnoticed by her. “Yeah, I told them I’m going for a ride.” She reports coolly, pretending it’s not a big deal to her. Despite her efforts to conceal it, she very much looks like a trapped animal which makes Kallus’ heart ache for her.

“Once we make it to Yavarron, you can send a long-range transmission from this office. Its town square is always bustling but rather safe. You can lay low there until your family can get you. But…it’s probably safest for you to stay here until we land.” He adds apologetically, seeing the discomfort she’s trying to hide. Is it because she’s stuck with him or because she’s concerned by what he might attempt to do to her? That thought makes his stomach turn.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” She agrees, clutching her helmet tightly and inching a bit further from him, stomach squirming with the thought of having to spend the next few hours alone with the man. If only Zeb were the one assigned to this mission! He’d be in heaven!

Feeling frazzled and agitated from babysitting then being manhandled by the overly aroused Senator, his golden eyes roam the office before landing on his target.

Her body instinctively braces for a fight as the agent stands and languidly moves around the desk. Though her expression remains relatively neutral her body tenses when he gets closer, her stomach twisting with apprehension before realizing she’s not his target. He’s retrieving a large bottle of wine and a glass from the ornate bar cart behind her.

A quiet sigh of relief escapes her as he returns to his spot behind the desk and pours himself a glass of the dark, fragrant liquid. He takes a small sip, his lips curling upward with approval.

“Her taste is a bit garish. Wouldn’t expect that from a pretty lady.” Sabine notes casually, looking around the overly lavish office and living area beyond to kill time. “She’s actually really pretty for a Senator.” She notes after inspecting the portrait of the woman hung on the wall. Her comment earns a noncommittal ‘mn’ from her companion who shrugs as she turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not one to ask, I’m not attracted to women.” Kallus states simply, eyes closing as he sips the wine and feels the teens head snap toward him.

Her eyebrows raise, a soft smirk on her face as she searches his. It’s surprising that he would willingly share such personal information until it dawns on her that he probably did so to put her at ease with their current situation.

“Hm, can’t say I’m all that surprised.” She teases, giving him a mischievous almost knowing look that makes his stomach feel odd. He decides to drop it though, the awkward tension is only just now dispersing and he doesn’t want to risk bringing it back.

Apprehension fading, she reaches behind her and retrieves a second glass, pouring herself some wine as Kallus’ eyebrows raise. “I’m 18, legal now. Besides, might as well relax if I’m stuck here all night.” She argues, shrugging casually as his golden eyes narrow at her.

“Zeb let me have some of that rhodian whisky you bought him.” She adds matter-of-factly, hoping to sidetrack the man. He can’t help it as his heart skips a few beats. She knows he bought it for Zeb…did Zeb tell his family about their night together? What did he say? Did he have as good a time as he’d had? He schools his expression, knowing from hers that his thoughts had briefly flashed over his features. Kallus softly clears his throat, deciding not to ask any of those questions.

“Fair enough. But I’m blaming you if Syndulla gets upset.” He says playfully. Despite his slightly reproving expression, the small grin on his face makes her smile. It’s odd seeing a friendly expression on that face, nice, just odd. The agent extends his glass forward and she taps hers against it in a friendly toast before they drink.

After a few long moments of silence, he rummages through the desk drawers as she watches with vague interest. “Whatcha doing?” She asks finally, her tone light and friendly.

“Seeing what there is for entertainment.” He responds lazily, eyebrows raising as he unearths an adult magazine of scantily clad muscular men. Those golden eyes roll automatically making Sabine chuckle.
“Oh wow, jackpot huh?” Sabine snorts, finding his unamused expression thoroughly amusing. “No thank you.” He says stiffly, quickly burying the magazine under the random contents of the drawer.

“What, thought you were into guys?” She teases, taking another sip of the red wine. “I don’t condone that belittling garbage. Besides, it’s bad enough that I’m allowing you to drink, if Syndulla found I’d let you look at that she’d murder me on the spot.” He retorts distractedly as he continues rummaging through the drawer.

The teen finds his open and rather playful demeanor amusing, nothing at all how she’d expected him to be. Guess that’s why Zeb likes him so much, or at least one of the reasons.

“Aha! Do you know how to play?” Kallus asks happily, raising the deck of sabacc cards for her to see. “Of course! Zeb taught me how to gamble years ago.” She answers easily, pulling an eyeroll and a grin from the agent who shakes his head at the lasat.

“An ideal role model.” He muses sarcastically while shuffling the deck. His lingering smile holds a warmth and affection that the Mandalorian doesn’t miss. The simple gesture fills her heart with happiness for her giant friend whose crush apparently harbors similar feelings for him.

“Says the man dealing the cards.” She counters cheekily, raising an eyebrow while grinning challengingly. “You’re of legal age to gamble now, remember?” He counters playfully. “Only one problem.” She states, earning a suspicious look from the agent, was she lying about her age after all??

“I don’t have any credits to gamble.” She explains flatly, holding her hands out as if to prove her point. “Mn, a problem easily solved.” He says lazily, pulling out a large bag of credits from the top drawer of the desk and earning an amused look of surprise from the teen to which he rolls his eyes at.

“I don’t mean steal it! We can use it for now then stash it back once we’re done.” He says plainly. Even if the Senator had tried forcing him to kriff her, he still has principles he lives by!

He takes another sip of red wine, savoring the velvety richness as it caresses his tongue. “This is good.” He states appreciatively, looking at the glass with wonder. “Cheers to that.” Sabine adds contentedly.

Kallus expertly deals the cards before inspecting his own hand as his companion does the same. He bets a few credits, making it seem that his hand must be better than it is for him to gamble as much as he is. The russe fools the teen who matches his bet before fixing him with her best poker face.

“So, do you get this kinda gig often?” She asks conversationally, eyebrow raising as she waits for her turn. “No, not since my early years in ISB actually.” He answers distractedly as he scans his cards, choosing the best strategy to employ.

“It’s typically used as a punishment for higher ranking officers but seeing as the Senator is rather pretty, I believe they may have intended it to be a gratuity to compensate for the run in with Saw’s men on Syran.” He says it so easily, as if his torture and near death was a typical routine patrol!

The blood in Sabine’s veins freezes, the color in her face disappearing as she looks at the man across the desk. “Saw’s men? Those were Saw Gerrera’s men?” She asks firmly with an abrupt seriousness that startles him.

“Yes, they told me so before we…began.” The light tone and choice of words he uses to refer to his own imprisonment and torture doesn’t sit right with the Mandalorian. Her expression darkens, brows knitting with concern and unease.

“You weren’t aware of who they were?” He asks tentatively, having fretted over whether they work with the dreadful rebel and his band of lawless mercenaries often. From what ISB knows of the ruthless group, it doesn’t seem they have much to do with other rebel cells, Saw’s tactics probably too severe for the others’ liking.

“No. We’ve never worked with his cell before. Hera seems to be wary of him. Guess now I know why.” She adds, looking at him with a sad and sympathetic look that makes him suddenly very uncomfortable. He clears his throat softly and lowers his gaze. “Well, that is a relief.”

A ridiculous understatement. The merciless fanatic had not only left him on death’s door twice now in heinous and traumatizing ways but had convinced him early on in his career that all rebels were as dangerous and vicious as his cell. It’s why he’d passionately pursued his specialized ISB career to rid the galaxy of such bloodthirsty, cruel beings. Until the Ghost Crew came and turned that belief, that fear, upside down, showing him that not all rebels are murderers. But he keeps that all to himself, for now at least.

“How’re you doing anyway?” Sabine asks cautiously, having caught the complex look on the agent’s face. The gentleness in her voice startles him from his thoughts. Blinking a few times, he schools his expression and shakes his head dismissively. “Perfectly fine now. No lasting damage.” He says with a short smile that doesn’t quite fool his companion. She knows there’s far more that he’s not divulging but unlike Ezra, she has tact.

“Zeb was a mess, you know. He was worried sick about you, we all were, but he…it killed him having to leave you there.” Her voice is thick with regret and guilt that surprises the agent. “He saved my life. You all did. There’s nothing to be troubled by.” He assures firmly, his golden eyes baring into hers with an intensity that assures her he means every word.

“Though I appreciate the sentiments.” Kallus adds more softly, taking a sip of wine as they fall into thoughtful silence. The agent studies his cards longer than necessary, wrestling with himself.
“Is he alright? Zeb…is he alright now?” He can’t help but ask, his tone sounding uncharacteristically unsure which draws a smirk from the Mandalorian that she hides behind her glass. “He’s alright. But he wants to pull you out asap.” Her eyes dart to his face to catch his reaction before he schools the giddy expression back to neutrality.

“I will say, it is quite tempting. But there is still too much good I can do here.” His tone is measured and dutiful despite the warmth and longing in his chest. Distracting himself, he sets a card down on the table between them, then glances to her to wait for her turn.

“Not sure how much more time the big guy’s gonna give you. If he’d been the one on this mission, he’d probably drag you back to the Ghost with him.” She half teases, snickering as she imagines the giant lasat hoisting the large man over his shoulder.

The odd expression and slight blush on Kallus’ cheeks make her snort with laughter, finding his reaction hilarious for some reason. Downing the remaining liquid in her glass, she casually refills it once more, pointedly ignoring the firm and discerning look from the agent.

“What? You said yourself it’s good!” She argues lightly, shrugging for good measure as his eyes narrow. “How often do you drink?” He all but demands, his gaze never leaving her face which he notes is a bit flushed. “Not often.” Sabine admits dismissively, gazing at the cards in her hand and avoiding his persistent gaze.

“When did you last eat?” He presses stubbornly, frowning deeply as she shrugs and utters a “…hm, not sure.” He sets his cards face down and pulls out his data pad, tapping at it lightly as she watches him intently, wondering what on earth he’s doing. “What would you like?” Kallus asks firmly, turning the pad and setting it before her. Her brows furrow in confusion for a moment before the words on the pad make sense.

“We’re getting room service??” Her voice is a bit higher and more eager than she’d meant it to be but the thought of real food is quite exciting after months of rather bland rations. He smiles and shrugs casually. “Perk of the job. Politicians always have the best chefs aboard. Get whatever you want.” He adds kindly, a soft smile lingering as he watches her happily scan through the expansive menu.

“I don’t know, the burger looks good but the starch wedges sound amazing too.” She muses, wanting to make the best of this golden opportunity. “Get both.” He shrugs, earning a cautiously eager look that makes his eyes roll. “No one will think anything of it. As far as they know, I’m drunk with the Senator, it’d be suspicious if we didn’t over order.” She grins, feeling like a kid in a candy store.

She taps her selections before handing the pad back to its owner. Seeing her reserved order, he adds a few more snacks and a dessert deciding to let her fully indulge especially with how small the young girl is. She probably doesn’t get to eat to her heart’s content often, probably surviving on rations bars.

After submitting the hefty request to the kitchen, he sets the pad aside and they resume their game of sabbac. The Mandalorian is quite proficient at gambling, which both amuses and worries him. Amusing to think of the hulking lasat teaching the game to her as if she were an adult instead of a child. Judging by who she lives with and how skilled at fighting she is, she must have had to grow up quickly, likely carrying immense trauma as well. Then again, who in the galaxy has had a ‘normal’ childhood in the last few decades. Certainly not Kallus.

“Sabacc.” He announces victoriously, grinning at her childish sneer. Hearing a chime from the panel alongside the door, he quickly stands and walks toward the living room pausing to remove his chest armor, gloves, outer tunic, boots, and belt. Sabine looks at him inquisitively as he messes up his hair, looking rather disheveled in the thin sleeveless undershirt and pants.

“Have to keep up appearances, as far as they know I’ve been with the senator this whole time.” He explains after catching her befuddled expression. Sabine nods with understanding. As she admires how muscular he is, the undershirt doing little to conceal his impressively fit upper body the outer tunic had hidden, she wonders if he’ll teach her his workout regimen. If only she could develop back muscles like that! She smiles to herself, thinking how jealous Zeb will be when she tells him about this!

She hears him slur something about modesty and that he’ll bring it in before the main door slides shut. Kallus guides the packed food cart into the study, her eyes lighting up with delight at the sight of it. He puts his outer tunic on again but doesn’t bother buttoning it up, the casual look appearing very odd to her, having only ever seen him all stiff and rigid, not a hair out of place.

After setting her order before her, he opens a bottle of water and sets it as well as some napkins beside her, taking a moment to see if she’ll need anything else. Thinking she’ll be more apt to snack on the other plates if they’re made readily available, he arranges them around the desk between them. Finding his own dinner, he settles behind the desk again before gaping at his companion wolfing down her meal.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, his tone lightly reproving. “What?!” She asks through a mouthful of her food. “So, you always eat without manners?” He reprimands playfully, co*cking an eyebrow as she bites off far more than appropriate just to spite him, having a hard time chewing after. He shakes his head, the small grin on his face betraying his disapproval.

“I’m getting real older brother vibes from you right now.” She teases, grinning at him over her burger. “Well, I have experience. I had a little sister.” He admits, his tone soft with a note that she can’t quite pin. “Really?” She says with great interest, watching him elegantly eat the bite sized pieces of raw fish, vegetables and rice neatly wrapped what looks like some sort of black thin paper.

‘Mhm’ he hums as he chews, head nodding as a look of delight crosses over his features, clearly relishing whatever delicacy it is he’d ordered. After thoroughly enjoying the bite, he digs into a pocket in his trousers retrieving a small holo disc that he sets on the table between them as if offering proof.

The holo that lights up is of a very handsome, very large man and two little blonde kids both smiling timidly, their large eyes full of happiness. The young boy has his arm wrapped around the much smaller girl, their father’s hands resting on their shoulders. Sabine stares at the little family that looks so happy, shocked that the agent would show her this so willingly.

“Holly. That was her name. She was 6 years younger than me. Our mother died having her, she’d been really sick during pregnancy and Holly, well, she was always quite frail. Too frail for where we lived. From the day she was born, I was overly protective of her and with our mother gone, I had to help my father care for her. She had the most kind and gentle disposition with these giant eyes that were always filled with wonder. When I would help my father in his shop, she would color and sing to herself for hours, waiting patiently for us to be done so I could play with her.” He muses while staring at the holo with a haunted smile on his face. His tone so full of affection and longing that it makes her heart ache.

“Is she…” She trails off, not knowing how to say it kindly, grimacing as the man nods, his expression unreadable. “Gone. Died in an accident when she was 6.” He says simply, the distant and pained way he says it makes her regret asking. Sabine’s small hand reaches out and squeezes his, snapping him back to the present. Their eyes meet, hers sincere and gentle, his full of shock at the comforting gesture.

A small, grateful smile pulls briefly at his lips. A moment later he drops his gaze and she releases his hand. The agent clears his throat softly before retrieving the holodisc, securing it safely in his pocket before returning to his meal.

“I have a younger brother, I’m 2 years his senior so he’s always going to be a baby to me. But Zeb really is like an older brother to me. He’s incredibly protective of the family.” She muses, turning the conversation to something that will surely lighten the man’s mood. “It is in lasat nature to be possessively protective of their loved ones.” He states lightly, the smile tugging at his lips betraying his casual demeanor.

“He’s protective of you too, you know.” She adds, smirking as he fumbles with the bite he was about to take, the roll falling back to the plate gracelessly. “I…I don’t…” He stammers awkwardly, trying to save face but she sees through it. “Believe me, I’ve been friends with him for a long time! I know how to read him and he’s not keeping that one a secret.” She assures in a friendly way.

Kallus keeps his eyes on his own plate, cursing the slight blush he feels creeping over his cheeks. Deciding it best not to taunt the man too much especially as she has to spend another few hours with him, she changes directions.

“Well, once you join the crew, guess I’ll have 2 protective older brothers.” She muses lightly, taking a big bite of her burger as he stares at her wide-eyed. “W…what?” He stammers quietly, the mere thought of actually joining their crew both exciting and terrifying. Did they all expect him to join them one day? Are they as content with the notion as the Mandalorian before him apparently is?

“We’re a family. Hera and Kanan are mom and dad, Ezra is the annoying younger brother, Rex is our badass grandpa, Zeb is the eldest brother and I’m pretty sure I’ll adopt you as a brother too. You play the role well.” She explains casually, acting as if it weren’t a big deal, only natural for her to ‘adopt’ him into her family just like that despite all he’d done to them.

“I think I’m going to have to cut you off, you’re drunker than I’d thought.” He jokes, side stepping the sentiments as he’s really not comfortable with those more powerful emotions. She chuckles into her burger, her small shoulders shaking with delight. “Not even close.” She counters with a grin.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they eat, Kallus’ heart both full and burdened. The thought of joining that little makeshift family fills him with joy but the reasonable side of him knows it’s too good to be true. He shouldn’t dwell on such fantasies. The chance of him surviving under Thrawn’s watchful eye is too dismally low to harbor such hopes. But he won’t burden his companion with that. *******

Hours later back safely in the common area of the Ghost, Sabine tells her family all about the unexpectedly pleasant conversations she’d had with Kallus and how hilarious she finds his dark humor. Having enough of sabacc, they’d spent hours flipping through shows on the holonet, each one earning a snarky comment from the agent that left her struggling to stifle her laughter.

“Well, the Senator woke up and Kallus pretended they’d had a great time. He’s a really good actor by the way.” She adds, impressed by how convincing he’d been. “Then what?” Zeb presses eagerly, still hanging on her every word as he leans forward in his seat.

“Then he confessed his undying love for you Big Guy and told me to give you a big kiss for him when I got back.” She teases dramatically, flinging her arms around his neck to plant a wet kiss on his furry cheek. He growls irritably as Ezra doubles over laughing. Hera shakes her head while a passive grin lingers on her fair features.

“No, he took the Senator away and I snuck out to the market like he’d suggested. Rest is history.” She adds, serious once again. “Well, we’re glad you’re home safe now Sabine.” Hera says warmly, graciously taking the info disc the Mandalorian hands to her. “Now, let’s get this to command and us back to Chopper base.” The twi’lek adds seriously, turning on her heel toward the co*ckpit.

“Alright, back to training then.” Kanan commands firmly, earning a low grumbling from his padawan who begrudgingly follows him to the cargo hold to resume the day’s lesson.

The lasat is about to head toward his own room to get some rest when he catches the mischievous look on the mandalorian’s face. “What?” He growls cautiously as his ears lowering a fraction. Sabine shrugs casually with a satisfied smirk on her pretty face.

“Just thinking about a few things I learned about Kallus.” She says dismissively, pretending not to notice the instant eagerness in Zeb’s expression. She stretches her arms overhead, feigning that’s all she would share. Rolling his eyes at the teen’s antics, he gives in and presses her with a firm ‘and?’.

“He doesn’t date women and…he really likes you.”

Her words hit him like a freighter, striking him dumb as his mind goes blank. The comical expression on his face makes her chuckle. “Wait… ‘likes me’ how? What did he say?” He urges openly despite the threat of being mocked for it later.

“He didn’t say anything outright, just the way he looked whenever you were mentioned.” She answers honestly, wishing she could give him more concrete evidence of the human’s affections. “The way he looked?” He repeats, one ear co*cking up with confusion.

“Yeah, he got the same expression you get whenever someone mentions Kallus.” She teases lightly. Unable to give him any further information and wanting to let him have time alone to process what she’d said, she rises and pats his massive shoulder amiably before heading to her own room for some much-needed solitude.

Zeb’s heart pounds in his broad chest, her words making his stomach feel fluttery and odd. Could Kallus really feel the same about him? Could they be more than friends one day? Would he be open to dating a lasat? Did he find him attractive? A cautious, hopeful grin crosses his face as he thinks about the handsome human he’d become so fond of. Did he mean as much to Kallus as he does to Zeb? *******

Chapter 19: The past is gone but it still haunts

Chapter Text

“Son, fetch the circuit cutters and hand welder please.” His deep voice is muffled through the layers of thick metal yet echoes inside the engine’s reactor chamber. “Yes sir.” The young boy replies respectfully, obediently crossing the large shop to where he knows the requested tools are neatly kept.

Golden eyes glance casually over the darkened corners of his father’s repair shop where forgotten droids, components, and works in progress are stored. As a small child, those dark areas made him nervous. But at the age of 12, he now understands it’s simply cost-effective. His father has to cut where he can and those corners aren’t as important as the work station and power tools.

Without difficulty, he finds the tools and heads back. Having assisted his father for many years now he knows every tool in the arsenal as well as how to disassemble, modify, repair, and reassemble anything containing circuitry, an engine, or mech of any type. Skills that will no doubt come in handy even if he doesn’t take over the family business.

A warm smile lingers on his handsome face as he spots his younger sister, humming happily to herself as she doodles what resembles, what do they call it again…a flower! They’d seen it on a show on the holonet before and he desperately wishes one day to see one in real life. Down in the middle level of Coruscant, the only plant life is what’s sold in markets as food. He’d never seen a living plant before much less grass, trees, mountains, or rivers.

Well, their father had taken them to the tip of the only remaining mountain left on their overcrowded planet but it hadn’t impressed him at all, though he’d pretended it did for his father’s sake. The peak itself only rises about 6ft above the topmost level of the city, truly not a sight to behold nor breathtaking. All they’d known was the cold metal of industrial complexes and the artificial lighting of the lower levels.

One day, somehow, he’d move his family to a planet covered in natural life, with rivers and fresh clean air where they can live happily. He’s not sure how but he’s determined and when he sets his mind to something, there isn’t anything that can stop him.

Seeing her brother pass, Holly shoots him a sweet and loving smile, her small legs swinging happily where she sits perched on the work bench. He makes a quick detour to give her a peck on her round cheek and a short side hug before returning to their father’s side.

“Alexsandr, can you climb in there and weld the reactor hatch for me? I just can’t fit.” His father’s voice is deep and rich, a sound thoroughly soothing to the young man. With good effort, the man wiggles his large, muscular frame from the metal chamber, wiping sweat from his already dirtied brow as he looks apologetically to his boy.

With a smile, Alexsandr nods before climbing into the tight space and getting to work. After his mother had passed, this particular job of squeezing into tight areas had fallen on his shoulders. His father is a massive man after all and there are places he simply just cannot fit! And taking the entire engine apart to reach the one latch would waste valuable time and energy. If he could help his hardworking father in any way, then he was happy to do it.

The sparks from the hand welder fly wildly, some landing on his forearms but after all these years it doesn’t hurt him anymore. His golden eyes narrow in concentration at the delicate task, doing his best to make tight, neat little circles down the line of the seam. After a few long moments, the sparks die out and he inspects his own handiwork, nodding to himself as he deems it competent.

Removing himself from the cramped space, he stands back to allow his father access to check his work. To his surprise, he doesn’t even look at the hatch. He merely smiles at his son, patting him on the shoulder before moving to the next project on the mangled engine. He opens his mouth but thinks twice, feeling immensely proud that his father trusts his skills enough to not even check.

“Alexsandr, I have a bit more work to do here. Why don’t you take Holly home and get to your studies? I’ll be home shortly for dinner.” The young boy nods obediently, relieved at finally being dismissed.
They’d been in the shop all afternoon and he still has an entire report to write! He quickly cleans the oil and grime from his hands before helping his sister collect her art supplies.

“And son.” He calls out, pausing in his work to bring his full attention to his child.

“Good job today. I appreciate it.” He says firmly, the loving and grateful expression on his handsome face making the boy smile happily. Feeling refreshed with the small yet genuine praise and acknowledgment, he nods then reconsiders, deciding to give his father a hug instead. He chuckles deeply as both his children wrap their arms around his midsection, petting their blonde heads fondly before shooing them off to get to their studies.

Alexsandr secures his sister’s shawl around her thin shoulders, giving them a loving squeeze before leading her out onto the dark streets of the middle level. He holds her small hand firmly in his own, standing up to his full height and keeping a keen eye for any troublemakers in the bustling street. It’s nowhere near as dangerous as the lower levels of the expansive planet-wide city but it’s still not the safest place for children.

He knows his father wouldn’t send them home by themselves if it weren’t pressing for him to finish the project he’s working on and the tall mover droid he’d sent to trail behind them should ward off any troublemakers. But he still doesn’t lower his guard. He’d made a promise to Holly when she was just a baby, back when he’d first held her in his arms, that he’d always protect her and he’s not about to let anything happen to his beloved sibling.

“Alex, is Dad going to make it for dinner tonight?” Her gentle voice pulls a smile from him despite his desire to look as intimidating as a 12-year-old boy can. “As long as he doesn’t run into another issue with the engine, he should be able to. We’ll just wait a bit longer tonight for him if he’s running late.” He answers in a light tone shooting her a reassuring smile.

It’d been weeks since they’d been able to have family dinner together, their father having to work ungodly hours since their rent had been increased again. Though father never spoke to it, Alexsandr knows his parent is under great financial pressure trying to keep their family in the middle level where one income simply isn’t enough anymore to make ends meet. Their grocery budget had been among the first to be slimmed down much to Alexsandr’s dismay.

Not for his own sake but for his sister’s. She’s been sickly and weak since birth despite having a proper diet. If she couldn’t get the nutrients she needs to develop and remain mildly healthy…he pushes the fear from his mind. He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d give her his own portions if need be! Quit school and pick up a trade instead to supplement his father’s income. Whatever it took to keep her from falling fatally ill. He just hopes it doesn’t come to that. He has ambitions after all.

He squeezes her hand lightly, giving her an encouraging smile as they walk the busy street together. Dim lights lining the street above cast rather dismal shadows over the crowd. Yet another thing that had scared him as a young child but now he has to be strong for his sister and refuses to show fear.

An occasional familiar face will nod to the children as they pass, out of respect for their father. Alexsandr had always greatly admired his father but that pride had tripled when he’d learned how he’d become sort of a hero in their midlevel section of the world. His skill and hard work made him the most talented repair man in their section but his honesty, charitable nature, and noble character made him the most trusted man on their level. While others price gauge customers and install barely functioning parts to make more profit, his father believes in treating others with respect and standing by your work. He cares for people more than he cares for credits and believes every life is valuable.

‘Be the good you want to see.’ He’d stated simply when Alexsandr had noted this. The words are simple and yet they filled the young man with such conviction that it stuck in his heart, like a note pinned to the back of his mind to be referenced before each decision. His father truly is his idol and he dearly wants to be just like him when he grows up.

As they near the main multi-level port bay in the section, the young boy holds his sister’s hand more tightly, leading her far from the edge of the massive hole that extends deep into the core of the world. He’d heard horror stories of unfortunate beings falling off the side of their level, their screams disappearing into the planet’s depths as they plummeted to their deaths far below. Some say it takes 5 minutes to reach the bottom; the thought too unsettling to linger on.

Both sets of golden eyes widen as they see a massive freighter rise from the lower levels up toward the surface.

“What is that for?” Holly asks with sheer wonder, eyes shimmering with interest as she tries to get a glimpse of the uppermost level. Alexsandr shrugs, rolling his eyes at the surface dwellers greed. “I heard about it from the kids at school. It’s a new construction project for the rich people up top. Some new hotel or gambling house or something. They should be done soon though.”

Holly nods absently, imagining what kind of outlandish and lavish building or castle even is being constructed above. “Do you think it’ll be done before your birthday? Is dad bringing us to the surface again to celebrate this year?” She asks with a sudden eagerness, her eyes shimmering with delight as she looks up to her brother. A sympathetic smile crosses his handsome features as he meets her gaze, not wanting to dampen her enthusiasm or make her sad in any way.

“I don’t think we can afford that for my birthday this year. But maybe we can for yours.” He adds encouragingly, deciding to ask his father not to get him a present and instead put the credits toward a trip above for her celebration. He’ll just tell him that he isn’t in need of anything and that it would make him most happy to see her happy. And that he wants that frozen treat they’d had last year up top.

“Spare credits?” An exhausted voice calls sadly from the slumped form of a man leaning against a building up ahead. “Stay close, don’t look.” Alexsandr commands sharply, pulling his sister in more closely. Being a curious 6-year-old, his command only piques her interest, making her want to look even more than before. “Who is that?” She asks innocently, her large eyes studying the man’s defeated posture and broken tone.

“An old clone, damaged in the war. Dad says they’re winding up here lately and that they’re very dangerous.” He warns firmly, casting a wary look at the aging man. As they draw closer, Alexsandr can see the awful injuries that left the clone decommissioned; his left leg amputated mid-thigh while his right arm is missing below the elbow. He keeps himself from wondering how it’d happened or why the empire wouldn’t give him prosthetics and instead tugs his sister to keep moving.

“He’s hurt.” Holly notes sadly, her large golden eyes staring with concern at the clone who seems to be in a dismal daze. “There’s nothing we can do, Holly, come on.” He presses more firmly, stopping in his tracks as she begins intently digging through her pockets in search of something. A soft ‘aha’ escapes her as she pulls out the small tart their old neighbor had given her this morning. He frowns at it; having thought she’d eaten it already.

Seeing her enthusiasm though, he doesn’t have the heart to argue with her. He’ll just make sure she eats his as well as her own tomorrow.

He begrudgingly follows her as she slowly approaches the old soldier whose head is hanging low with shame and despair. It takes him a long moment to register the small forms standing a few feet in front of him. A questioning look crosses his face as he sees the two kids, meeting their golden eyes with confusion until he spots the food in the little girl’s thin fingers. His expression softens as he realizes their intention, his weathered heart warming slightly.

Remembering how his father had said the clones are dangerous, he takes the tart from his little sister’s hand and cautiously approaches the man. The clone gently takes the humble offering, smiling gratefully at the kids as he says a warm ‘thank you’. Alexsandr nods in reply, taking his sister’s hand firmly to quickly lead her to the safety of their home. The clone grins as the small girl smiles brightly and waves goodbye to him, treating him like a person which does more for him than the tiny tart ever could.

Alexsandr sighs to himself. She really is too much. Too sweet. Too gentle. Too good for this place. How she can brighten up even this dismal level with her loving heart and kindness…it’s beyond him! “Let’s not make that a habit, Holly. We don’t want him associating us with food.” He chastises lightly, not wanting her to put herself in any undo danger.

“He’s not a wild animal.” Holly argues, chuckling at her overprotective brother. The boy boldly stares down a group of street rats, the teens catcalling them from a darker alley. “Never mind. We’re almost home.” He dismisses easily, glancing over his shoulder to glare at the hooligans before turning down their street.

The streetlights in their area are a bit brighter than some of the others but still nowhere near what real daylight up top is like. He’d thought he would go blind the first time he’d set foot on the surface! He quickly unlocks their front door that slides open to admit the kids and mover droid. Once inside, he relocks the door and turns on the lights revealing the humble apartment.

The meager decorations are to his liking though, making the small rooms feel tidy and orderly unlike the heavily cluttered and claustrophobic home of their neighbor across the hall. The old lady is kind, but he’d desperately begged his father to stop asking her to watch over them while he was at work, finding her home oppressive and suffocating. Combine the endless dusty nicknacks and stale furniture with the stench of her many feline pets and it was pure torture for the young man.

He smiles as Holly rushes to the small desk at the corner to begin practicing her writing without him needing to tell her to. Deciding it best to check on the food he’d made that morning that’s been simmering all day, he pats her head as he passes the desk. The closer he gets to the kitchen, the stronger the scent of that wonderful dish his mother had loved to make. For a just a moment, he pretends she’s in the kitchen humming while tending to their dinner the way she had so many years ago.

He sighs. She’s not there. She’s gone. He’s being foolish.

The savory scent of the stew fills the kitchen, the smell comforting in an odd way like a hug from his past. Stirring the warm mixture, he lets a bit cool on the spoon before tasting it. A content smile crosses his features. Not nearly as good as he remembers his mother’s, but his skills have definitely improved.

Worrying for her health, he cuts up a small yogan for his sister, placing it on the desk beside her before settling in to write his report. They sit in comfortable silence as they work, his thoughts interrupted only when she asks him for critique of her letters. As gently as possible, he advises how to improve her writing skills, which she eagerly soaks up seeing it as an opportunity to grow rather than a failure.

She enthusiastically tries again with a radiant smile on her pretty face that makes his heart warm. That’s the same expression their mother would get when embarking on a challenging task. Though Holly hadn’t gotten their mother’s eyes as he’d hoped, she had inherited so many other endearing features of hers. “What?” She asks curiously, feeling her brother’s affectionate gaze on her.

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Just reminded me of mom again.” He dismisses lightly, a warm smile lingering on his face that his sister catches. “How?” She demands eagerly, eyes bright with anticipation. She loves hearing about their mother just as much as he loves talking about her. It feels right to talk about her, like he’s keeping her memory alive.

But it makes father painfully sad to think about his beloved late wife, so they only speak about her when he’s not around to not upset him. Their father has enough to fret over without them dragging his pain out.

“You’re just as positive and hopeful as she was. Whenever something was difficult, she’d smile, and try until she got it. She would tell me ‘There is no failure, only opportunities to grow and learn’.” He explains with longing and adoration. If only Holly could’ve met her instead of learning about her from him. But he’d tucked away all her lessons deep in his heart, unwilling to let any of them escape for fear of losing them like he’d lost her.

Just then, the lock beeps and the front door slides open, revealing their exhausted father. “Dad!” Holly exclaims happily, jumping to her feet to wrap her tiny arms around the massive man. “You made it!” Alexsandr adds warmly, hugging his father as well. “Couldn’t miss dinner with my kids, not again! Finish up your studies while I wash up.” He commands gently, smiling as the obedient children hop to it. ********

“Alex, this is wonderful son!” He compliments sincerely, the warmth and taste of the stew almost as comforting as his wife had made so many years ago. The thought makes his heart clench with the loss that he’ll never recover from. He shares a knowing look with his eldest child whom he knows misses her dearly, both sharing grief and pain in silent solidarity.

“So yummy!” Holly chimes brightly, her large eyes glimmering with adoration of her brother who seems able to do everything! He smiles warmly at her in turn, pleased to see her eating as much as she has. The small girl wiggles happily as she takes another bite, the ‘happy dance’ making her father chuckle quietly.

“Time for some trivia.” Their father announces, never missing a chance to teach his children and keep their little minds inquisitive and curious. The kids perk up, sitting a bit straighter as they wait for his first question.

“What are the galaxy’s core world sectors?”

Wanting to give his sister a chance as well, Alexsandr takes another bite and holds his answers in as the little girl taps her chin, brow furrowing. “Ahhhh…Corusca!” She states emphatically, delighted to get one even if it were the most obvious one seeing as they live in it!

“Very good. Can you remember any others?” Her father coaxes gently, his encouraging smile egging her on. “Ummmm…Corellian…that’s all!” She relents, raising her hands up as if she’d given them all she had. Alexsandr chuckles softly before completing the list for her. “Alderaan, Bormea, Duro, The Koornacht Cluster, and the Tangenine sector.”

“Very good, son. Now can you name the main core worlds?” Both eyes turn expectantly to Holly, giving the 6-year-old her moment to shine. “Coruscant and Corellia!” She chirps excitedly, taking a moment before remembering the list her brother had just recited. “And Alderaan!”

“And Kuat, Abregado-rae, Belgaroth.” The young boy names, pausing only a moment before answering the question he assumes his father will ask. “The secondary main worlds are Caamas, Recopia, N’zoth, Metellos, ,Velusia, Anaxes, and Brentaal.”

A large grin spreads across his young face at the pleased expression of his father and the pride shimmering in those warm amber eyes. “Very impressive. Can you tell me…how many legs a bantha has?” He asks playfully, turning to his daughter with feigned seriousness that makes her giggle. “4!” Holly says through her laughter, finding their father hilarious.

“How long do banthas live?” He asks the room, both children looking a bit lost. Holly looks to her brother for direction who appears to be just as confounded. “50 standard years?” He guesses, feeling that’s a reasonable life span for such a large beast of burden.

“Good guess but they live between 80-100 years.” Their father corrects gently. Having grown up in the massive planetary city devoid of plant and animal life (other than the rats and pests of course) he hadn’t expected either to know that answer.

Alexsandr nods absently trying to decide if that information is valuable enough to keep around. Deciding probably not, he takes another bite of his dwindling meal before looking expectantly to his father. “What are the oldest living beings (both sentient and non)?” Both sets of golden eyes narrow as they wrack their minds for any information relevant to the topic. Surprisingly, it’s Holly that chimes in first.

“Sarlacc can live 50 thousand standard years!” She says enthusiastically, having seen it on a holonet documentary about some desert planet whose name she can’t recall. His eyebrows raise as he looks at his daughter, gently praising her efforts.

“Um, I heard someone at school say that Hutts can live about 1,700 standard years. Is that true?” Alexsandr asks his father who surely will know, he knows everything! “That is true actually! And that’s one of the reasons the Hutt family is such a powerful crime syndicate. You don’t live that long without learning a thing or two. The older creatures are, typically the more intelligent, cunning, and sometimes wise they are.”

“What’s a ‘simbicate’?” Holly asks, brows knitted together with confusion. “It’s a group with a common interest or goal. Sort of like a team, working together.” Her father explains slowly and plainly, waiting until her brows unfurrow and she nods in understanding. “Finish your supper.” He commands gently, reminding her of her unfinished stew.

Leading by example, he resumes his meal as he searches for another topic that may be helpful for his children to know. “What is the difference between lightspeed and hyperspace?” He asks, this time looking directly at the young man knowing Holly is too young to know this. Alexsandr’s head shoots up with enthusiasm, finding the subject of space travel absolutely fascinating!

“Lightspeed is just a term people use for the speed at which a starship travels through hyperspace. Hyperspace is a dimension that can be reached by travelling at or faster than the speed of light, its ‘lanes’ allow beings to travel throughout the galaxy, but it can be dangerous if you don’t have the right coordinates.” Alexsandr recites knowledgably, earning a look of admiration from his sibling.

“Very thorough my boy.” He nods with a large grin on his face. It never ceases to amaze him how intelligent his child is. Surely, he’s meant for far greater things than a life down here in the middle levels. “Dad? Have you ever been in hyperspace?” He questions, his large golden eyes full of curiosity as he patiently waits for the answer.

He sighs softly before answering honestly. “I have not yet. But I did have a client who brought me up into orbit to thank me for fixing his ship. It was a beautiful sight. The stars looked so bright, so close you could almost reach out and touch them. One day, I hope you’ll both have a chance to see it for yourselves.” The longing in his voice intensifies Alexsandr’s resolve to one day settle his family somewhere else, somewhere better.

Somewhere with natural life where they can see the stars and travel through hyperspace lanes. Somehow, he’ll make it happen. They deserve as much.

He stares down at his bowl, feeling a bit guilty for not telling his father about his new undertaking for earning extra credits. Having repaired an ancient speeder he’d found in the apartment building’s basem*nt, he’d tried his hand at street racing a few months ago.

Not only did he find he’s got a serious addiction to going at breakneck speed but that he is actually really good at racing down the narrow, barely lit streets of the city. And he’d earned a good amount of credits doing it! The plan is to get good enough (and not get arrested) and earn enough credits to get them off world, maybe even make a career out of racing on another planet. But his father would lose his mind if he told him about it so he keeps his mouth shut and schools his expression.

“Alexsandr. What’s going on in that head of yours? What have you done?” His father asks in a firm yet loving tone, reading his child like the back of his hand. He nervously glances up to his father then back down again, mind racing for an excuse. “Just…wondering what it’d be like to travel in space.” He half lies in a longing tone that makes his father’s heart ache for his child. He wants to give him the galaxy, it’s just the damn galaxy is in chaos!

Hopefully once this Republic-Separatist war is over things will calm down, prices will lower, and he’ll be able to give his children the life they deserve. Surely, it can’t go on much longer.
“One day, Son. I’m sure you’ll be out there one day.” He encourages sincerely, having always felt his first born was bound for something much bigger, much grander than this world. *********

“One more story, Alex? Pleeeease!!” Holly pleads sweetly, her giant hope-filled eyes making it impossible to say ‘no’. “One more but then we have to get to sleep, ok?” Alexsandr relents, trying to sound as firm as possible. She nods in agreement, shifting under the thin sheet on her bed in anticipation.

He scans the selection of children’s books, all of which had belonged to him when he was much younger. Smiling, he chooses his past favorite, a tale about a courageous warrior who’d saved a village on a distant planet from a band of pirates thus saving their entire dwindling race.

As he’d done every night since she was old enough for bedtime stories, he settles beside her on the bed, wrapping his arm comfortingly around her tiny frame. Holly snuggles against her brother, resting her head on his shoulder as he opens the book and begins to read to her. Putting on different voices and accents for the various characters, he brings the story to life for her, pausing in all the right times for her to gasp or sigh at the situation. The two are so invested in the story, that they don’t register their father’s towering frame in the doorway watching them with an affectionate gaze as he does almost every night.

It warms his heart to see his son take care of Holly with such devotion and affection, the love the two have is something pure and special. Tears glisten in his eyes as the kids giggle at the comic relief in the story, their heads coming together as their bodies shake with laughter. They deserve more than the middle level, more than what he can give them. And yet they’re content and happy as long as the three of them are together. He takes a steading breath as he thinks how truly proud their mother would be of the two.

Finishing the story, his son closes the book and jumps slightly as he finally notices his father in the doorway. “You two…” He says warmly adoration clear in his deep voice. The massive man quickly crosses the room and embraces his children tightly in his strong arms, holding them close. “I love you so much!” The words are strained from emotion, feeling overwhelmed with how desperately he loves the two little humans clinging to him.

The little family remains holding one another for a few long moments, each reveling in the comfort of their loved ones being so close and safe. Slowly, their father releases them, amber eyes shimmering in the dim light. “Alright, time for bed.” He announces gently, kissing both their foreheads and ruffling their hair. Alexsandr obediently follows after him, saying a soft ‘goodnight’ to his sister as their father turns out her bedroom light.

“Son.” His father calls out softly, stopping the young boy from turning down the narrow hall to his room. “Son, I’m so proud of you. Even with we’ve already been through, you’ve only ever rose to the challenge…always remained loving and kind. I love you so much.” He says earnestly, pride and tears in his eyes as he pulls his firstborn into his arms for another embrace.

Caught off guard by the sudden sentiments, Alexsandr freezes for a moment before melting against his father. He feels his throat choking up slightly, tears filling his own eyes as he snuggles closer to his father. “I love you too.” He manages in a weak voice. The young boy always tries to be brave, calm, and strong but in his father’s arms, he can be vulnerable and weak. He’s safe here in his father’s arms.

After the boy’s breathing normalizes, he releases him, squeezing his shoulder as he cups the boy’s face in awe of how much he’d grown. “Goodnight, son.” He says warmly, watching his child as he slowly disappears into his own room. ********

For years now, Alexsandr has been plagued with insomnia. Finding it nearly impossible to fall asleep but oddly once he’d managed it, he’d fall deeply and without pause until the morning lights flickered to life. Despite how long a day he’d had and how truly exhausted he feels, tonight is no different. He turns to his side yet again, hoping a new position will ease his body into submission. But his mind won’t stop replaying moments from the day.

The image of that disabled clone slumped defeatedly in the street haunts his mind’s eye. What will happen to the man? Are clones considered men? Humans? Genetically modified humans? They’re living beings in any case! Surely, their lives are worth something to the republic. Then again, they’d created them purely to be used as soldiers in the war. They’re ‘expendable’ right? That thought doesn’t sit right with him.

No soldier is expendable, clone or otherwise. His father believes that all life is important and valuable, thus not even a clone is expendable. His father is noble and intelligent, he should be the one calling the shots in the republic! If people like him were in charge, there wouldn’t be clones left to rot on the streets like that one. Even if the being is dangerous, he was injured serving the Republic. He should’ve been taken care of by someone!

He sighs loudly, turning once more onto his back and staring into the complete blackness of the room. Middle level Coruscanti night. The moonlight doesn’t penetrate this far down into the city and with the lights within the house doused, it’s complete darkness. He’d gotten used to it a long while ago, finding it oddly soothing now. It’s so thick, so complete, enveloping everything and everyone.

He closes and opens his eyes a few times, having a hard time deciphering any difference. Feeling his body relaxing, he closes his eyes and waits for sleep, willing his curious mind to shut up!

Suddenly a terrifying rumbling sound bombards his senses, so impossibly loud he has to cover his ears for fear they’ll be damaged. He’d never heard anything like it before and it shakes him to the core! In the darkness he can’t even see what might be causing the horrible sound. His heart pounds in his chest as he feels the room shaking around him, the sound of metal straining and cracking making his stomach drop.

Has a ship crashed into the building?? Is Holly ok?? She must be as terrified as he is! Where is father!? The rumbling, crashing sound only gets louder though, making his body freeze in fright. The pitch blackness around him he’d found soothing moments ago now making him reel with terror at not being able to see what is happening! Where is that noise coming from?

A deafening crash is followed by a massive jerking and trembling around him, the whole world feeling as if it’s fallen and jolted beneath him.

Then something impossibly heavy slams into his right leg just below the knee. The awful crack of the bone sends sickening waves of pain through his body. Never had he ever experienced anything so painful! “AHHHHHH!!!!” He screams in agony feeling as if his leg is being severed by the immense weight of whatever it is that’d fallen on him. Tears stream down his face as his body rocks with suffering, desperate for his leg to be freed from this torture!

“DAD!!!! DAD HELP!! PLEASE DAD HELP ME!!!!” He begs, his throat already raw from screaming. But his father doesn’t come, doesn’t make the pain stop, doesn’t even respond. His body trembles with unbearable pain, his mind blurring until the darkness around him seeps into his mind, stealing his consciousness. ********

He wakes in complete darkness, the constant pain in his leg dulled slightly yet the pressure feeling nearly unbearable. But he can’t feel the bottom half. He groans and whimpers, fearing the limb is gone. “Dad!!” Alexsandr calls out weakly, his voice trembling with panic and desperation. Still no reply. He’s too afraid to move, fearing that one wrong shift might make whatever is on his leg truly sever it.

Perhaps he’s just lost feeling in it because the blood flow is restricted? So long as they can extract him in time, they should be able to save his limb…right? But who is going to extract him?!

“Dad!!!! Dad, help!! Dad please!!” Alexsandr cries out feebly, his heart clenching with dread. If his father could hear him, surely, he’d be at his side in a millisecond. Unless, he can’t reach him. But then he’d at least respond to his calls!

Chancing movement, he cautiously reaches toward where his table light is feeling only cold hard steel in its place. “What?!” He breathes, panic rising as he blindly searches the darkness around him, feeling nothing familiar, nothing right. It’s as if he’s in a metal box, no longer in his own room!

Breaths becoming ragged with terror, he cautiously tries to reach out in front of him but his hands almost immediately are stopped by metal. A scared whimper escapes him as his hands explore the massive structure in front of him mere inches above his face and chest. To his despair, it goes on as far as his arms can reach in all directions and down toward his leg.

Had the ceiling collapsed on him??? Breaking his leg and trapping him beneath it? Terror shakes powerfully through his body. Is he trapped?? Would that mean…

“HOLLY!!!! DAD!!! SOMEONE PLEASE!!!! ARE YOU OK?!!? PLEASE, HOLLY, DAD ANSWER ME!!!” He bellows as loudly as he can, his mind racing frantically with pure terror. For what seems like an eternity, he keeps yelling for his family, desperate to know if they’re alright, to know they’re alive. He can taste blood as his hoarse voice calls out pitifully, knowing he’s screamed so much he’s left his throat raw.

A pathetic sob escapes him as dread fills his chest, warm tears streaming down his face as despair overtakes him. ‘No. They can’t be gone. They can’t be! They have to be alright! They just can’t hear me. Maybe they’re just knocked out?’ His mind races frantically with panic, his body trembling with pure terror.

“If they’re gone, please just take me too.” He pleads miserably to whatever power in the universe exists, feeling as if all the life and happiness were being drained from his body. A pained whimper echoes in the cramped space as shooting pain courses through his leg into every nerve in his body. His breathing becomes ragged and sharp once again, panicking in the trapped space, unable to move, unable to escape, unable to be heard.

Truly, if there was an afterlife for the damned, this is what it’d be! He sobs and gasps as panic thrashes his body, leaving him feeling exhausted and wishing he’d just die already. There is no hope. No reason to live unless his family is still alive. His mother’s beautiful face flashes through his mind. She’d never want him to give in to despair! No, she’d want him to keep even the tiniest spark of hope burning! There’s still a chance. They may be unconscious as he’d been however long ago that was!

After what feels like an eternity, he hears movement above, dim beams of light appearing to his side as something is lifted away. It takes a long moment for him to establish that he’s not just seeing and hearing things. “HOLLY!? DAD!?!” Alexsandr calls out desperately, his voice cracking and hoarse. “We have a survivor!!!” He hears a man’s voice calling out with unmistakable shock.

Hope floods his body as he listens to the beings above shifting and moving whatever it is that’s trapping him. Two large mover droids easily lift the remnant of the thick metal ceiling that’d crushed his leg pulling an agonized scream from the boy whose vision blurs with the pain.

He vaguely hears voices, feels hands on him and something wrapped tightly around his leg below the knee. In a half-conscious daze, he feels his body being lifted, cradled against a strong chest covered by a hard shell of some sort. “Dad?” He whimpers, blinking rapidly as he slowly comes to.

He looks up toward his father, confused as to why he’s wearing a white helmet before his weary mind understands. “My Dad and sister!! Where are they!?” He demands in a sudden panic that catches soldier off guard. “Calm down, son, we’re searching for them now.” He says placatingly, trying and failing to soothe the young boy whose frantic golden eyes scour the wreckage that had been his home.

Nearing hysteria, he takes in the horror around him, their entire street reduced to piles upon piles of rubble and metal. If he’d looked above, he’d see the clear night sky through the massive opening where the upper levels had once been, but he’s too concerned about his family. “Dad!! Holly!!!” Alexsandr calls out desperately, tearful eyes wide as he watches the soldiers continue to search the remains of the apartment building.

“Sir, we need to get him to medical.” A soldier to the side announces, nodding toward the young boy in the sergeant’s arms. “No!! I can’t leave them!” Alexsandr argues instantly, acting nearly feral as he struggles against the soldier’s strength. “It’s ok soldier. I’ll take him once they’re found.” The sergeant’s voice is deep and burdened but his words ease the child’s struggle.

For what seems like hours, Alexsandr waits and watches the soldiers and droids work through the mass of rubble. Father and Holly must be able to hear the commotion so why aren’t they calling out for help? Are they still unconscious? Were they injured that badly that they haven’t been able to come to yet? The soldiers surely will have some way to rouse them once they’re found. He clings to that hope as if his life depends on it, unable to comprehend anything else.

His heart beats wildly in his chest as a small pale arm is exposed within the rubble. “HOLLY!!!” The urgency and eagerness in his strained voice makes the sergeant’s heart clench. The boy still believes his family may have survived.

Alexsandr feels those arms around him tighten, his large eyes staring in terror as the soldiers extract that small, limp body from the rubble. The nightdress is covered in blood. Her blonde hair is stained red and covers her face. Her frail form looks so broken as the soldiers gently lay her on a floating gurney.

“Holly…” He breathes, finding her pale skin and unmoving body horribly unnerving. The blood in his veins run cold as that fragile hope his mother told him never to lose faulters.

Holly doesn’t wake even as they lay her on a white gurney, the medidroids humming around her body only long enough to test her pulse. Finding none, they pull that dreaded white sheet over the small frame. “Holly!!” Alexsandr shouts, struggling out of the soldier’s arms to run toward his sister. Taken by surprise at how strong the small boy is, the sergeant can’t catch him before he falls to the ground.

He cries out in agony as his crushed right leg collides with the ground. Alexsandr’s vision blurs as he collapses to the side. “Holly…” He breathes softly, blinking away the haze covering his eyes. After a few long moments of fighting to stay conscious, he feels that soldier behind him, holding him upright. In a daze, he can make out the form of two soldiers hauling a large mass onto another gurney that slowly floats towards the med droids.

The form on the gurney confuses Alexsandr. It doesn’t look right, as if it’d been crushed out of normal shape. But the profile of the face is familiar, those open amber eyes unseeing as they pass by. “Dad…” he breathes, staring blankly in shock as the droids pull a blanket over the ruined body of his father, concealing the ghastly wounds.

A sharp inhale and that void he’d felt the night his mother passed reopens within his chest only this time stronger and all consuming. The darkness snuffing out that fragile, precious hope he’d promised to never lose as his father is set beside the motionless body of his sister. The only two beings in the galaxy he loved. The only family he had left…gone.

He stares wide-eyed at the two, wishing they’d move, that they’d sit up, look to him, tell him they’re alright. But they remain laying there as still as the grave. “No…” a soft whimper escapes the boy, tears streaming down his face as horror and dread fill his heart. He lets out an agonized cry as he collapses into himself, his body drained of all energy and will.

Alexsandr’s body trembles violently as he sobs uncontrollably, unaware of the arms wrapped around him nor the soft words of the soldier holding him tightly. They’re gone. They’re gone and they’re never coming back. He’s all alone. *********

‘Construction site accident.’ The hotel being built had collapsed after its shoddy foundation failed, taking down the levels beneath in its wake. Bad workmanship and cut costs are to blame for thousands of deaths and even more lives uprooted, ruined, and taken.

Golden eyes stare blankly at the artificial lights lining the ceiling, the thin med bed uncomfortable but it doesn’t matter. He can’t feel anything anyway. He’s completely numb both physically and emotionally. Too overwhelmed with grief care. They’re gone. A ragged breath leaves him unable to even cry anymore. His eyes are raw and dry, having spent all their tears. Though he’s the only survivor on his block he feels dead inside, hollowed out and empty.

There’s nothing left. His whole world is over. Everything he’d wanted, dreamed of, loved…it’s all gone and he’s alone in the galaxy without a single soul who cares for him. Not even a holo to remember them by. For years, he’d fulfilled his promise to his sister, keeping her safe and protected. He’d been unable to save her. Both her and their father had been crushed and there was nothing he could do for them.

Why had the universe not taken him though? Is it truly that cruel? It’d take those he loved those he lived for and leave him as the ‘lucky’ survivor.

The hum of the medical machines in the room fills the silence as he wonders which one might allow him to join his family.

Could he use one to electrify himself, make his heart stop? The thought should scare him but death doesn’t seem all too bad anymore. More of a merciful reprieve from the torment of living with this crushing agony. He stares longingly at the machine, struggling against what his father would think. He’d be disappointed in him for doing such a thing. But he’s not strong enough to carry this pain and walk alone. Not with their memories haunting him, reminding him of all the love and support no longer there.

He's about to reach out for the machine when the door slides open. The boy freezes but continues staring longingly at the voltage for another moment longer before forcing himself to look to the intruder standing in the doorway. The white-armored soldier stands perfectly still, his expression hidden behind that helmet but his body is rigid. Alexsandr’s reddened, dead eyes stare at him without interest, too lost to even speak let alone care.

“Alexsandr Kallus. I am sergeant Gronz. You probably won’t recognize me but I’m the one who helped pull you out of the wreckage.” The man’s deep voice is vaguely familiar, but the boy only stares blankly at him. A soft sigh escapes the soldier whose shoulders sag as if defeated. He removes his helmet and looks at the child, his expression far gentler and kinder than one would expect, almost fatherly.

The word makes Alexsandr’s heart twist with loss and grief. What he wouldn’t do to have his father pull him into a warm embrace, hold him tight and tell him ‘It’s going to be ok’. Seeing the pain flash in the boy’s face, the soldier marches to his bedside looking almost like he wants to hold him. “Son…I’m sorry for your loss. I really am.” His deep voice is so full of earnest emotion, it actually makes Alexsandr feel something.

He meets the soldier’s gaze but has no words. The lost expression on the boy’s face and hopeless eyes tear at the soldier’s heart, pulling at his paternal nature. “I know it’s no consolation. I have no idea what you’re going through.” He adds, eyes lowering to the med bed and roaming over the boy’s legs.

“I heard the surgery was a success. Is the prosthetic functioning properly?” He asks conversationally, catching the odd expression on the boy as he looks to his own faux limb almost with disgust.
Alexsandr frowns at his leg, hating the fake limb with every fiber of his being. It’s a constant reminder of the unbearable loss. His breath catches as a fresh wave of tormenting grief rolls through his chest. The soldier notices the faint glisten in his reddened eyes, but no tears fall. Probably none left. Gronz’s head hangs low for a moment before he fishes out what he’d come here to give.

“I believe this belongs to you, son.” Gronz says gently, holding out a small holodisk that the boy cautiously retrieves. “It was all I could find.” He adds, wishing he could’ve salvaged more but the apartment building had been in complete shambles from the collapse. Brows furrowing with confusion, Alexsandr taps the side button and inhales sharply as the small holo lights up. His father, him, and his sister all smiling back at him. The happy little family they are…were.

His eyes grow wide as his mouth falls slightly open, staring at the holo as if it held the world. And to him, it does. All that’d ever been important to him now rests within the tiny precious device in his trembling hands. Tears blur his vision before they fall down his cheeks but he’s too enthralled with those smiling faces to notice. Gronz watches the boy stare with utter adoration and longing at the small holo, heart aching as he prays to whatever powers be that his own son will never have to endure such pain.

“Th…thank you. Thank you, Gronz. Thank you.” The boy breathes in disbelief. With great effort, he tears his gaze from the holo to the soldier who looks startled. The boy had been listening after all! “I wish I could do more.” Gronz replies honestly, finding the sincere and overwhelming gratitude in the boy’s face disproportionate to the gesture.

“This was all that was left. I’m sorry.” He adds sadly, eyes lowering as the boy’s face contorts, fighting back the pain and failing. The sergeant places a large hand on the child’s shoulder, trying to comfort him as he wipes angrily at his cheeks.

“What do I do?” His voice is barely above a whisper, yet the misery in it unsettles the man. Casting away decorum, he sits beside the child and wraps his arm around his trembling shoulders pulling him to his armored chest. Slowly the boy melts into the embrace, his hands still wrapped tightly over the holo that he brings to his chest as if to protect it.

“Everything’s gone…what do I do now?” Alexsandr asks, a dazed and lost look on his pale face as he looks to the soldier beside him with a near crazed desperation. The man had been kind to him, rescued him from where he’d been trapped, held him as he’d fallen apart, and even brought him the only thing remaining of his family. Perhaps, he could give him a reason not to reach out for that medical machine’s wiring; a reason to keep going.

Gronz’s expression softens as he looks at the boy waiting on pins and needles for direction, for help. “You have no other family?” He asks, already guessing the answer. The boy’s miserable head shake confirms what he’d innately already known. The kid’s alone in the galaxy now. A heavy sigh escapes the soldier, fighting the urge to bring the boy back to his own home. He can hardly feed his own family, let alone an orphan! The answer comes to him and a confident expression falls over his weathered face.

“You can enlist as a cadet. The Republic will teach you how to help those in need, protect those who can’t protect themselves, and keep order and balance in the galaxy. They’ll take care of you, teach you all you need to know and in return, you can serve a higher good.” The conviction in his tone is persuading but nowhere near as much as his actions.

Alexsandr nods absently as he considers the notion. His own life no longer has meaning, there is no one left in this galaxy that needs or loves him. But Gronz had been a steady and grounding presence for him throughout this nightmare. If he can be that support to another suffering being, then won’t his own life have purpose?

That’s worth staying alive for. Yes. He’ll help bring peace and security to a troubled galaxy. He’ll dedicate his life to protect, serve, and help others. He’ll be the good that his father would want to see! He’ll make them proud! ********

“Sir?”

It takes a few long moments for the voice to register, the agent’s eyes blinking rapidly as he snaps back to the present. Quickly he turns toward the hesitant soldier beside him. “Sorry, sir. Incoming notification, the Grand Admiral says it’s time sensitive.” The young man says dutifully, a wary look of concern in his gaze. “Thank you.” He responds curtly, taking the offered data pad before turning back to the large window before him.

Golden eyes gaze out on the seemingly endless abyss of space, the stars shining brightly in the vast expanse of velvet darkness. No matter how many times he gazes upon it, it will never cease to amaze him. ‘I wonder if Holly would feel the same’. The intrusive thought makes his breath catch.

It’d been years since he’d lost himself in those memories. But between the surgery on his old wound and the brotherly, protective instinct the Mandalorian had provoked in him, it only makes sense that they would resurface now.

His heart twists sadly, the pain of loss only slightly dulled but still as potent. Whoever uttered ‘time heals all’ is probably the most ignorant being in all the universe. He curses under his breath before turning to inspect Thrawn’s notification.” ********

Chapter 20: Loving from a Distance

Chapter Text

The city streets are deathly quiet save for the constant thumping of his troopers marching and the rhythmic stomping of nearby walkers. The night is brighter than usual with the full lothal moon softly illuminating the normally dark alleys. Not an ideal night to make a quick getaway. But he’s not worried about the rebels he’s become so fond of. They’re probably long gone not only from the city but from the planet, safely on their way to whatever secret base he’s sure they’ve established.

A yawn struggles to break free but he merely shakes his head beneath his helmet to stifle it, forcing himself to at least seem focused. Barking a few orders, he watches one squadron of troopers obediently head to the northeast part of the city before leading the remaining soldiers down the opposite street. A completely futile exercise in his opinion but Pryce had demanded he take immediate action and if he’s honest with himself, he’s relieved for an excuse to escape those terrifyingly piercing red eyes!

For the millionth time, the chiss’ words repeat in his mind regarding the ‘mole’ residing amongst them. There’s little chance he’d spoken directly to him out of coincidence, especially with how potent the question was. But Kallus had covered his tracks quite well, even suffered a few broken ribs thanks to Bridger’s ‘help’ with making his report convincing. He rolls his eyes at the memory of the boy’s gleeful expression before he’d hurled him through the thick glass of the projector screen.

But Thrawn is known for being keen and thorough, often spotting what others miss. There’s a good chance that he suspects him but without hard evidence, he won’t be able to act on those suspicions. Which means he’ll just have to work more cautiously and come up with smarter ways to keep his cover. A heaviness weighs on his heart, knowing the chiss’ intelligence is superior to his own. But he’ll persist. He’s never backed down from a challenge and isn’t going to change that now.

Kallus sighs quietly and pointedly ignores the pain as the movement shifts his battered ribs. It’s not the first time he’d been injured, certainly won’t be the last. As golden eyes catch movement to his right, he turns his head instantly toward the disturbance, praying that it isn’t those reckless rebels. A local rhodian jumps back slightly, large dark eyes filled with fear and hatred before he closes his door on the imperials marching down the street.

If only Kallus could tell him that he has no intention of hurting him; that he’s actually working to help him! The desire fades as quickly as it’d risen. The civilian would believe it anyway. With all he’s personally done to this planet, to these citizens, they have every right to loath him. He sharply turns the corner, hearing the soldiers behind him obediently following suite.

In one of the windows, he spots a man with a bright white head of hair above an equally light mustache. For a moment, his heart stops, his own eyes widening before his rational brain reasons that it’s a completely different man than the one from the factory earlier. A shiver runs through his body as he tears his gaze away. Against his will, the horrific memory of that poor man’s gruesome death plays yet again in his mind. His stomach clenches against the vile deed he’d witnessed just hours ago.

Thrawn murdered that man and Pryce had grinned like a fat lothcat who’d caught a mouse. Neither had flinched nor shown any sign of regret or remorse. They’d even called it a ‘demonstration’ and Pryce had the audacity to praise Thrawn for his ‘ingenuity’! It wasn’t a punishment, it was cold-blooded murder!

Even when he believed in the Empire and what he was fighting for, he’d never relished bloodshed and execution. He found it quite repulsive honestly. Necessary at times, yes, but not once did he ever enjoy it. The thought that those are the types of beings in positions of power within the Empire is truly unsettling. All the more reason why it must be taken down.

Turning another corner, he finds it ironic for him to be having these thoughts while leading imperial soldiers through the city streets. If only Pryce knew, she’d probably have a conniption fit until blood poured from her abnormally large nose. It takes all his training to keep from snickering at the thought. Perhaps one day he’ll see the expression she’ll make when she learns he’s the spy.

An odd longing fills his chest as he scans the rooftops, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rebels he knows most certainly aren’t on Lothal anymore. It takes him a few moments to understand why he’s feeling such a thing. Companionship and camaraderie. That must be it. He no longer belongs to the Empire, he belongs to the rebellion, so naturally he wants to join those he’s fighting with. The explanation feels incomplete though and he takes a few minutes to contemplate that.

Has he come to view them as friends?? The thought makes him uneasy. He’d not had a friend since he was a child. To have a group of them. No. Zeb, yeah, he seems to view him that way. Sabine…actually, they did seem to form a connection on the senator’s transport. And Kanan did crack a few jokes with him in the medical facility while the Bridger looked at him with concern. Wait…are they his friends?!

The notion makes his stomach flutter in a strange way, an eagerness and longing pulling in his chest against something that feels very much like terror. Even if they don’t actually view him as a friend, he considers them as much. Their ‘friendship’ means more to him than he can even describe, more than he can ever hope to repay.

Knowing they’re ok and that they care, at the very least care whether he dies or not, is a comfort to him in the nightmare that is his current life. Being surrounded by such evil and cruel beings every single day is only made bearable knowing that he’s not alone in this mess, that there are a few beings that support him, that want him to succeed. The admission makes his golden eyes water.

‘Kriffing cool night air, bothering my eyes!’

They really are honorable, noble beings that crew. Probably the best in the galaxy! A small smile lingers on his lips as the thinks of the Ghost Crew and wonders what they’re doing now to save the galaxy. *******

“FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!!!” Sabine chants eagerly, egging on the livid lasat rampaging through the cargo hold after the young padawan and cackling droid.

A loud crash is followed by a whine and a nervous yelp from Ezra as Zeb nearly pounces on him. The teen practically flings himself over the fallen crates, dodging those massive arms as if his life depended on it. And with how angry the lasat appears, it may very well be!!

Chopper takes the opportunity to jab his electro mech into Zeb’s thigh sending a surge through that massive frame. The murderous growl that rumbles through the lasat’s throat makes the hairs on Ezra’s neck raise. He hasn’t seen his bunkmate this angry since Chopper had removed the bolts from his bed!

“It isn’t my fault!” He lies, raising his hands placatingly before scurrying under the fallen crates, barely missing the lasat’s fist.

“Tell that to my fists!” Zeb shouts angrily, his mighty limbs punching wildly at the nimble yet wide-eyed teen.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” Hera thunders over the railing, glowering down at the chaos in the cargo hold below.

“HE STARTED IT!!!!” Zeb and Ezra shout in unison as Chopper cackles to himself.

“I don’t care who started what, I’m ending it!! Ezra, jedi practice NOW! Zeb, get to the phantom and work on fixing the core navigator.” The captain commands in a tone neither warrior has the guts to argue. “Sabine…you help Zeb. You know better than to encourage this.” She adds, turning her glare to the young teen who grimaces apologetically.

Before Zeb can do any physical harm to him, Ezra scurries out of reach up the ladder and into his master’s room without even knocking. Sabine shakes her head at him before turning to her giant lumbering friend who’s nursing a dark and brooding expression. “Come on Big Guy, let’s get to work.” She pats his shoulder, eyebrows raising with how incredibly tense his muscles are. It’s like slapping a reinforced permacrete wall!

She silently follows him to the phantom, deciding to keep her mouth shut until he’s cooled off, which takes far longer than she’d expected. After an hour and a half of quietly tinkering with the navigational system she finally dares a glance at the still frowning lasat. “Zeb, what’s up?” She asks gently, watching him intently. His large ear flickers toward her but his eyes remain on the circuitry in front of him, his hands never ceasing in their work.

“Nothin’. Bad mood.” He growls shortly. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it but she knows he has a soft spot for her. “Well that much is obvious.” She teases lightly, pulling a sideways sneer from her friend. “I haven’t seen you get that upset with Ezra since he first joined us. What’s going on? Do I have to beat him up for you?”

The offer makes one corner of his mouth twitch upward briefly. He sighs heavily, his massive shoulders sagging.

“What was the kid thinking throwing Kal around like that? He was just tortured for kriff’s sake! And he goes on about it bragging like it was the funniest thing he’d ever done!” Zeb growls, his gruff voice deepening with irritation. His brows furrow, teeth baring slightly as his large hands unconsciously ball into fists.

“Zeb, it’s been months now since Syran. Kal looked and acted totally fine when I saw him. He even said he was good!” Sabine argues cautiously, keeping her tone gentle and light to avoid upsetting him further. Zeb’s ears flatten slightly as his eyes lower to the ground, still looking sour.

“It’s dumb of Ezra to brag about it but he’s just annoying like that. Kal’s a tough one, I’m sure it wasn’t nearly as bad as Ezra made it sound. You know he likes to exaggerate things.” She placates, smiling when she sees his expression lighten a fraction.

“Yeah, yer probably right. Kid always makes things sound better ‘n they were.” Zeb continues rewiring the navigational circuits, looking slightly less annoyed. They fall into a comfortable silence for a few long moments until the Mandalorian decides to press the point.

“You’re worried about Kal.” Sabine states plainly, no hint of teasing in her tone. Zeb stares at her for a few long moments, examining her expression closely.

“Course I am! He’s my friend. Things are gettin’ hot with that Thrawn guy in the mix. Don’t want Kal gettin’ in over his head.” He admits frankly, leaving out the sleepless nights filled with worry and longing for the agent to be with them safe on the Ghost…maybe even in his arms.

“We’re all worried about him, Zeb. But he’s a smart guy. If he’s in over his head, he’ll know and will ask for an extraction, or figure out how to do it himself. Give him some credit. He’s more resilient and resourceful than you think.” She encourages, confident in the agent’s skills and that he’ll do what’s best for himself. Zeb on the other hand, isn’t so convinced of the latter.

“Next time I run into him, I’m pullin’ him out.” He states seriously, the determination in his expression leaving no room for debate. “Well, I’m on board with that too!” Sabine says happily. She’s rather looking forward to the day the agent finally joins them. The fun her and Ezra will have teasing him and watching Zeb swoon over his crush will be epic!

“In the meantime, try not to worry so much Big Guy. Kal’s probably in a cushy office, sipping some, café, totally safe!” She says encouragingly with a confident grin as she elbows his massive bicep. ******

‘KRIFF KRIFF KRIFF KRIFF KRIFF!!!!’

His throat is raw from panting, his muscles screaming for relief as he forces them to run faster than his legs can manage down the winding corridor of his destroyer. Another shrill screech from the alien creature barreling through his ship echoes through the halls, making it sound as if it’s closing in from all directions. Seeing the security doors beginning to close ahead, Kallus forces himself to run faster, hurling himself through each shrinking diamond shaped hole even with the creatures’ tentacles licking at his feet.

He jumps over the last hurdle, folding into himself as the doorway nearly shuts upon him. Kallus lands gracelessly, stumbling forward as a serpentine tentacle thrusts toward him. The creature down the corridor screeches in pain as its limb is severed by the door and falls to the floor with a sickening squelch. Rows of fangs line the tentacle that writhes and wiggles on the metal ground, searching for prey to return to a mouth it’s no longer connected to.

His nose wrinkles at the ghastly sight but he ignores it. In the red flashing emergency lights, he presses his back against the wall and allows himself to slide down to the floor resting his elbows on his knees as he catches his breath. His normally perfectly slicked back hair now disheveled slightly from the fight, a few strands falling into his face.

“Agent Kallus, sir. The beast has been contained. Orders, sir?” A soldier’s voice rings from the comm in his pocket, sounding muffled beneath the fabric. The creature rams itself into the doors barricading it, wailing in fury and hunger. Kallus ignores it, allowing his eyes to close as his head falls back against the cold metal wall. “Agent Kallus, sir?” He repeats flatly, unbothered by whether the agent is alive or not.

“Contact central command and notify them of the incident. Request immediate assistance to remove the beast and to get treatment for the injured.” He commands calmly, his voice firm and unwavering despite the ordeal. “Very good, sir.” The soldier replies shortly.

‘So warm.’ Kallus thinks darkly, rolling his eyes at the typical imperial behavior. The better he gets to know the rebels the more ridiculous imperial life seems to him. How distasteful it is to have no care for or connection with anyone. It’s at complete odds with the close-knit, loving rebels. At odds with human nature!!

The agent glares at the door as the beast thunders against it, screeching madly. “Oh shut the kriff up!” He growls irritably. For a few long minutes, he remains on the ground. Undignified, yes, but he really doesn’t care at the moment. That beast had wrought carnage on his ship, slaughtering dozens of soldiers within a minute of escaping the cargo hold.

Golden eyes close tightly shut, his face contorting with pain as he laments the many lives that ended within the last half hour. He reflects upon his own reactions and decisions, trying to decipher if there was anything different that could have been done. Deciding he had honestly done all he could have, he sighs and lets his head hang.

Who could’ve planted that creature within the supply shipment they’d received? He’d had rebels steal his supply shipments in the past but never had they tampered with it! Certainly not the rebels he is working with. They have standards and principles. Gerrera’s cell isn’t active in this sector. That means that the creature was most likely smuggled onto his ship by those that either prepared or delivered the shipment…the locals.

He sighs heavily. This won’t end well for them. Whoever planned this attack hadn’t thought of the repercussions that their planet would face. And with Thrawn watching his every move and meticulously scouring each of his reports, he can’t even bend the truth for the civilians.

Perhaps he should warn the rebels that the sector will soon host more imperial presence. A slight smile crosses his face as he thinks about Zeb’s expression if he learns what’d happened today. Would he, like Sabine had mused, throw him over his shoulder and drag him to the Ghost? He fights off a grin at the thought, wishing he’d just do it already!

The lasat is such an intimidating and powerful being. Surely those massive muscles could easily lift his impressive weight over his shoulder. Shaking his head, he tries to rid it of thoughts of the imposing warrior he respects so much. *******

“Karabast! Shut it, ya glorified trash can!” Zeb growls in frustration, swatting at the astromech who keeps chittering at him in binary. “You know I don’t understand you!” He adds irritably, pulling fruitlessly at the jar stuck around his thick wrist.

A second thought hits him that makes his ears lower slightly. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” A low growl rumbles weakly in his throat as the droid chuckles as if laughing at him.

“Shut it!” He snaps, turning his wrist to try another angle which results in the same outcome as all his other attempts. Green eyes dart nervously around the common area, praying to the ashla that the kids won’t wander in on him in such a state. He’d known he shouldn’t force his large hand into the small opening, but the cookie just looked so good.

“Should’ve tilted the kriffin’ jar.” He reprimands himself, his deep voice low as he wiggles his hand wildly.

“What’s going on Big Guy?” Kanan’s calm voice greets with mild humor, the mask over his eyes hiding half his expression. Zeb’s ears lower a fraction, but relief floods his chest. At least it’s his friend that’d found him like this and not the kids! “Hey, Kanan! I uh…haha…have a bit of a problem.” He says sheepishly, forcing a few laughs.

“Mwraaap mrapp mrawwap wappp.” Chopper adds, pulling a small smirk from the jedi who shakes his head. “Sounds like quite the predicament.” He muses in a friendly way.

“Yeah well…can ya help?” Zeb asks awkwardly, feeling rather embarrassed. “Course.” Kanan says with a smile, grabbing the jar tightly and twisting as Zeb maneuvers and wiggles his wrist. After a few long moments the lasat breathes a sigh of relief as his hand is freed from the confines of the jar.

“Thanks, Mate. Owe ya one!” He states gratefully, rubbing his wrist idly as his friend sets the jar on the counter. “Don’t mention it.” Kanan dismisses with a grin, using the force to free two cookies from the jar before handing one to his friend. “Our secret.” He adds mischievously, tapping his cookie to Zeb’s before taking a bite. *******

Unamused green eyes stare at the bunk above him, hearing the teen turning over yet again. His large ears, much more sensitive than a human’s, pick up every sigh and movement from his bunkmate, a fact the kid has yet to grasp. Zeb blinks slowly, patience wearing thin but he bites back all remarks knowing the boy’s had a rough week. Besides, he knows his own snoring has kept his roommate from sleep on multiple occasions so he’s not really in a place to complain.

Hearing the teen settle for a few moments, he eases slightly in hopes that he’ll stay there at least long enough for Zeb to fall asleep. He lets his mind roam to his favorite agent, wondering what his favorite sleeping position is and if it’s compatible with his own. Would they compromise and find a position where their bodies could rest together? Would he let Zeb wrap his arms around him and hold him close through the night?

Would he freeze at the intimate contact? How long would it take for him to melt into the embrace? He smiles to himself at the musings, allowing himself to get lost in the fantasy. Would Kallus roll toward him, their bodies flush together and wrap his own arms around Zeb’s torso? Would he rest his face on his chest, bury it in the soft fur there? What sound would he make? A soft moan? A happy moan? A content sigh?

The bunk above creeks angrily as the teen practically tosses himself onto his other side, apparently aggravated with his inability to sleep. Zeb frowns deeply. Every time he gets to the good bits, the kid has to pull him back to reality. He growls quietly, closing his eyes and crossing his arms. Ezra huffs loudly and repositions yet again. Just then, their door slides open and a slender silhouette slinks into the room.

Right on time, Zeb thinks sadly. He quietly moves over a bit to give the Mandalorian room as she sneaks into his bunk beside him. Neither say a word as she settles beside him, snuggling into the warmth of his soft fur and the comfort of his presence. He wraps a strong arm around her small shoulders feeling her sigh quietly, the tension leaving her muscles as she does. A sad smile lingers on his lips, happy that he can give her refuge yet saddened that she needs it.

Ever since that horn-headed sith monster had forced Ezra to go to that witch planet, the Mandalorian hadn’t been the same. He’d listened in horror as they’d explained what happened, how their bodies had been possessed by evil spirits. She’d even cracked a few jokes about it but he knows her too well, the experience had deeply unsettled her. Every night since, she’s crawled into his bed, seeking his safety to ward off the haunting nightmares plaguing her.

His heart aches as he feels her shiver against him, her breath a bit ragged as if she were holding back tears. He squeezes her gently, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head just as his mother used to do to him as a small kit. They don’t need to say anything. That’s one of the beautiful things about their relationship. They just know, they understand each other, and their mere presence is enough.

A few moments later, her breathing levels out. He feels her shift slightly and he’s momentarily shocked as he feels her furless cheek rubbing against his. A broad smile crosses his features as he relishes the lasat gesture of affection. It’s the first time he’d been on the receiving end since his home world had been destroyed. His eyes tear up with emotion and he squeezes her tightly until she pats his arm in warning. Huffing a quiet laugh, he eases up and lets her snuggle into a more comfortable sleeping position.

A soft sigh escapes him. In the morning, he’ll tell Hera the kids need to be grounded for a few missions. Give them time to recover from all that’s happened. It’s clearly too much for them to process right now and they need a chance to recoup before stepping into something possibly much worse. *********

Chapter 21: Rescuing Fulcrum

Chapter Text

Zeb’s large green eyes roam once more to Sabine’s closed door, feeling both guilty and offended. He knew he was doing the right thing telling Hera that the teen needed time to recover and was struggling worse than she’d let on. He’d also known she’d probably be upset with him but he hadn’t expected her to react like this! She’d locked herself in her room, refusing to talk to anyone for days. Any time she’d creep out for rations, she’d ignore his attempts to talk, last time even glaring at him with such malice it made his heart ache.

Completely unfair! He’s only looking out for her! And it’s not like she’ll never be on a mission again or is suspended for months! She’s only sitting out a few missions, that’s it! And Ezra is too so it’s not like they’re singling her out. He sighs heavily, ears drooping with defeat as his large green eyes lower to the cold metal floor beneath his toes. The clone beside him elbows his arm good-naturedly, offering him a warm smile.

“She’s not angry at you, she’s upset because she’s struggling and thinks she shouldn’t be. I’ve been around plenty of mandalorians in my time and she’s as stubborn as they come! But she loves you. She won’t stay mad long.” Rex encourages, frowning slightly as Zeb grunts a short, unconvinced ‘yeah’. The clone thinks for a moment before grinning and switching tactics.

“Just get into a life-or-death situation and she’ll forget all about it!” He suggests lightly, the idea humorous more so because it would in fact work! The joke pulls a short laugh from the lasat who grins at him gratefully.

“Guys, ready the Ghost for docking. Our intelligence agent is here.” Hera’s voice calls from the co*ckpit. Rex stands and stretches slowly as Ezra and Zeb count the loud cracks from his weathered spine. “Wow you got 7 this time, old man!” The teen taunts playfully.

“You just wait, kid, you’ll get there one day!” Rex chides lightly, taking it in stride. “In ‘bout 50 years.” Zeb counters playfully, elbowing the old clone amiably as they make for the docking ramp to greet their guest. Ezra tails them, curious to see who the team is working with. Rebel intelligence has never sent an agent to help them on a mission.

The docking doors slide open and a brown-haired woman in her mid-twenties calmly walks through the enclosed ramp into the ship, her posture rigid and disciplined. Keeping her head held high, she nods in greeting, her voice confident and strong as she utters a polite ‘good to see you again’. It takes Ezra a few long moments to recognize the woman, last time they’d seen her she’d been a shell of a woman, broken and terrified.

“Sw…Swain?!” He utters in disbelief, blue eyes wide as they take in the healthy and strong being in front of him so completely different from the one they’d rescued months ago. “Bridger.” She says shortly, a small smile on her lips.

“You look well!” Zeb adds dumbly, just as shocked as the kid at his side. “It’s amazing what a little distance from the Empire will do to a person.” She responds flatly, her words making the lasat’s stomach twist with worry for his agent still working behind enemy lines.

“Shall we?” She urges politely, coaxing them from their stupor. Her naturally commanding demeanor reminds Zeb of Kallus and a warm feeling spreads in his chest as the woman leads them toward the common area of their ship. Something the golden furred human would no doubt do.

Hera and Kanan are there waiting and greet Swain with better concealed shock than their crewmates. “It’s good to see you, Swain.” Hera says in a friendly tone, her smile reaching her brilliant green eyes. “I wish it were under better circ*mstances, but we have duties that need to be tended to.” Swain says respectfully, her arms behind her back in a commanding stance Zeb has seen Kallus take many times. Did she learn that from him?

Hera nods, waiting for the Intelligence agent to elaborate and explain the details of their mission. All she was told was that high level command required some kind of urgent extraction and that it was General Draven that had requested it. She’d never even spoken to the mysterious general, which made the mission all the more intriguing to her.

Swain takes a deep breath, steadying herself before beginning. Yet another gesture that Zeb had seen Kallus do many times.

“General Draven investigated the Fulcrum agent whose been relaying faulty information to the rebellion. It appears that the Empire has known of their defection for quite some time now and has been using them as a pawn to sabotage our efforts. The agent has been…detained.” She pauses and allows the room to soak in the grave meaning of her words.

Some poor agent is being tortured by the Empire for trying to aid the rebellion. Rumors of the various torture methods utilized by the Empire on defectors had reached the Ghost, each more gruesome and terrifying than the last. Zeb can’t help but think of Kallus, dread pooling in his stomach as that pull in his chest begs him to go drag him back to the Ghost.

“Even though they are low level ISB their training means they can withstand interrogation, but the Empire has new methods of extracting information on the hardest cases.” Swain explains in a snippet tone devoid of emotion. “Like the cries of those beings.” Hera states thoughtfully, pinching her chin between her thumb and forefinger as she remembers when Kallus had threatened that homeless man many months ago.

“That is one of the newly developed methods, yes.” Swain responds with a nod. The agent eyes the twi’lek for a long moment, considering the woman and how she’d learned of those cries.
“This particular fulcrum agent doesn’t know much about the rebellion but what they do know could be detrimental to our efforts.” The weighted note in the way she says ‘particular’ makes the fur on Zeb’s back stand on end.

“It is imperative that we retrieve the agent or if retrieval is not possible…terminate them.” The indifference in Swain’s words makes the Ghost crew tense, finding it offsetting and distasteful. “Those are General Draven’s orders.” Swain adds coolly, picking up on their discomfort. The notion makes Hera’s skin crawl. Is that really how the mysterious General does things?

The fur on Zeb’s body stands on end, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “We’ll get him out alive. Not ‘terminatin’ anyone! We ain’t the Empire here!” He presses firmly, sharp fangs barring subconsciously. The agent looks at him with mild confusion before her expression schools to tight neutrality. Her piercing gaze falls to the captain who’s as unsettled by the notion as the lasat.
“We’ll extract the Fulcrum agent and get them to safety. What’s the plan?” The twi’lek asks firmly, standing up even taller than before. ******

“I still don’t see why I can’t come along! You know we could always use another pair of hands. Besides, I’m a jedi!” Ezra complains for the fifth time in 6 minutes. “You’re a padawan not a jedi.” Kanan corrects flatly and he doesn’t need his vision to detect the teen’s scowl. “Hera, why can’t I go?” He whines, trying to give the twi’lek his best lothpuppy eyes.

“Because I said so and that’s the end of it young man. If you want to help so bad, go help Zeb ready the cargo hold.” She commands firmly, giving him a useless job simply to rid her co*ckpit of his whining. “You sure you’re gonna be ok alone here with him and his bellyaching?” Kanan teases gently, his soft smile calming her nerves.

“At the moment, I kinda wish he’d follow Sabine’s lead. But we’ll be fine, love. Just make sure you get that fulcrum agent out safely, ok?” She urges more seriously, her heart weighing heavy since Swain relayed General Draven’s cold orders. “I’ll do my best.” The jedi says warmly, kissing her cheek affectionately before leaving her to her duties.

He makes his way down to the common area where Ezra and Swain are talking quietly. “In short, I wanted to thank you Bridger. Your words and perspective before helped me to redefine what’d happened. I still don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him but I…I don’t hate him.” Swain says in a hushed almost sheepish voice.

Her eyes flick to the teen then the floor then the jedi approaching. She clears her throat and stands straighter, immediately becoming the perfect soldier ready for action. “Are we ready?” She asks Kanan, her voice stern and strong once more, no hint of the humility and vulnerability that’d been present moments ago.

“We are.”

She turns swiftly on her heel toward the cargo hold where Rex and Zeb wait for the looming stealth mission. Kanan places a warm hand on his padawan’s shoulder, lingering a moment before following the intelligence officer with an ominous feeling in his chest. It was a good call on Zeb and Hera’s part to keep the kids grounded from this one. It already feels like they’re about to walk into something they shouldn’t. Well, more so than usual.

They wait in silence, listening to the ship as it maneuvers closer to it’s destination. Zeb’s claws itch with anticipation, expecting to have to jump to the guns any moment to fight off an onslaught of imps. The attack never comes yet the unease lingers, making the fur on his arms raise. He glances to the jedi at his side, wondering if he’s getting the same foreboding feeling. Kanan calmly nods once in the lasat’s direction in confirmation.

The Ghost silently connects to the Imperial outpost floating in the orbit of Nassan’s largest moon. To their relief, they’ve not been detected thanks to good intel from Swain’s department combined with Hera’s impeccable skill.

They quietly sneak into the outpost, finding that their intel had been as correct as it was unexpected. The facility hosts very few sentient beings, run predominantly by droids which are far easier to evade. The crew stealthily avoid the few troopers marching through the silent corridors, the click of their boots echoing eerily down the halls.

“Must be murder workin’ here. The Republic had a few posts like this back in the day. The clones stationed there were bored out of their minds!” Rex muses quietly, elbowing Zeb’s massive shoulder good-naturedly. “Don’t let you guard down; it could be a trap.” Swain warns in a hushed tone, her body bracing for attack.

Zeb’s ears flutter slightly as he watches her, her movements and focused expression so similar to Kallus’. He can’t help how that makes him soften towards the soldier. A pain shoots through his chest as a thought hits him. Would their orders be the same if it were his Fulcrum that had been captured? Would they be ordered to execute him if extraction wasn’t possible? The thought makes his stomach lurch sickly and he shakes his head to rid it of the terrible notion.

Kanan’s head tilts toward his friend, feeling Zeb’s sudden pain and overwhelming dread. “You ok Big Guy?” He whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He knows how well lasat respond to physical touch and isn’t surprised when Zeb’s massive muscles instantly relax. “Yeah, just need to focus.” He dismisses gruffly, feeling ruffled and forcing himself to stay present.

They follow Swain as she weaves through the maze of dimly lit corridors, her blaster at the ready, her eyes frantically scanning each hallway for signs of threat. In all honesty, it is a miracle the woman is able to even function let alone willingly infiltrate an Imperial base after what the Empire had done to her. Zeb can’t help but awe as he watches her, realizing how much strength and sheer determination that must have required.

With laser-like focus Swain dashes down a hallway, pressing her back into the wall and scans the corridors before beckoning her accomplices to follow. They line up against the wall around her, each bracing for a fight that still hasn’t come. “This should be his cell but…” She says uncertainly, her brows furrowing slightly. “But this isn’t a cell.” Kanan finishes for her, making the fur on Zeb’s neck stand on end.

“This might be a trap. Be on your toes.” Swain says gravely, the dark expression on her face reinforcing the gravity of their situation. The feeling that something’s just not right hasn’t let up and it’s apparent from their expressions that they all feel it. The lasat takes a steadying breath as the agent taps the console and the door slides open.

She enters the room first, scanning the perimeter for threats with her blaster at the ready. Rex instinctively mirrors her actions, moving to the opposite side of the room. Zeb follows suite, stepping into the dark room full of beeping and humming machines which seems rather eerie for some reason. This room feels…ominous. The fur on his body rises as his subconscious picks up on some unseen threat that his green eyes scan rapidly for. His gut tightens, telling him something is definitely not right.

It's only until he backs into Swain that he realizes why. A quiet ‘sorry’ dies in his throat as he sees her terrified expression, her tan skin as white as a death sheet. He turns to see what she’s staring at, the blood in his veins freezing instantly at the garish sight. What’s left of a young human man floats inside a liquid-filled tube, with thick wires and circuitry running through him, connecting along his spine and temples.

He appears to have been practically torn apart; his legs cut off at the pelvis and arms reduced to stumps of different lengths. The wires installed deep in his temples hum and the whites of his eyes snap back and forth as he mumbles incoherently as if remembering something unpleasant or trapped within some nightmare. Beside the tube, words and images flash through the screens the wires port to, as if extracting memories and information from the poor being.

Zeb can only gasp and stare at the horrendous sight, his chest tightening with alarmed revulsion at the horrific torture. There’s barely a body left to save much less a coherent mind within it.

“Just like Echo.” Rex breathes, eyes wide with a haunted terror Zeb’s never seen them hold before. Kanan can feel his friend rapidly unraveling and he places a grounding hand on the old clone’s shoulder trying to pry him back to the present before his PTSD takes too strong a hold. “Stay with me buddy.” He urges quietly, trying desperately to keep control of his own emotions.

The man in the tube twitches violently, seeming to be in intense pain in a half-conscious state. Zeb’s breathing comes in harsh huffs, wanting to help the poor soul but not knowing what in the galaxy could be done for him at this point, he’s too far gone. Before he can decide what to do a blast pierces the horrified silence followed by a loud crack as the tube breaks.

Swain’s body is tense with terror, her arm frozen in place with her blaster raised as she watches what is left of the poor fulcrum agent go limp, the single blast between his eyes putting him out of his agony. As the liquid begins to leak through the thick glass an alarm pierces the silence of the facility and red lights flash through the room.

“Time to go!” The jedi announces firmly, pulling Rex with him toward the door.

In a horrified daze, they follow Kanan as he leads them through the winding corridors, fighting off the few soldiers and sentry droids standing between them and the Ghost. Zeb’s mind is severely frazzled from the heinous sight of the poor agent, making it hard to focus on the situation at hand. He tries to force himself to stay present but he’s too deeply unsettled by what he’s just seen and the implications it may have for Kallus’ future.

Despite them disobeying orders, Zeb is deeply relieved to see both Ezra and Sabine at the Ghost’s entrance, providing cover fire for the dazed crew as they slip into the safety of the ship. “Told ya you should’ve let us come!” Ezra chides triumphantly, his smirk falling as soon as he spots the state they’re in.

Once inside, the massive lasat’s back falls against the wall in the cargo hold. Sabine’s brows furrow deeply as she catches his terrified expression. She looks to the others and finds varying looks of horror and pale skin making her stomach twist. The cargo door latches shut as the Ghost’s engine hums into gear.

Seeing that the adults need space, Sabine elbows Ezra before he can press them with ‘what happened!?’ urging him to man the guns with her and Kanan. Without a word, Rex dazedly marches to the common room to sit alone with his thoughts leaving the lasat and the agent alone in the cargo hold.

Swain comes beside Zeb, leaning heavily against the wall and staring blankly ahead while the image of that poor man lingers in her mind’s eye. They remain there for a long time, both panting not only from the quick escape but from sheer terror. After a long while, the blasting of the guns ceases, the Ghost jerks into hyperspace, and the hum of the ship fills the silence.

“You need to get him out. Alexsandr. Get him out.” Swain says quietly, shaking her head as her eyes tear up. It takes a long moment for Zeb to register her words, his ears twitching in her direction as if trying to hear her better. “Who?” He asks vacantly, brows knitting as he side-eyes the agent.

“Kallus. Alexsandr Kallus. Get him out.” Her voice is shaking and unsettled, making the fur on his body stand on end. “Before that…before they do…that...” She squeezes her eyes shut tightly and takes a few deep breaths before starting once more. “I don’t want him to end up like that.” The raw emotion in her tone adds immediate urgency to the statement, filling him with mad determination

He nods incoherently as his mind spins rapidly with the notion. She’s right. That fulcrum was a low level ISB agent and the Empire did That to him for defecting. What would they do to a high-level agent defector like Kallus? The thought sends a shiver through his body, the knot in his stomach twisting painfully. They’ve got to get him out!
Forcing himself to stand tall, he leaves the dazed agent and climbs the ladder. ******

The twi’lek hears her friend’s heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway as if on cue. She sighs and looks to Kanan before the co*ckpit door slides open. “We’ve gotta get him out!! Right now! I can’t let that happen to Kal! He’s not safe anymore, we’ve gotta get him out!!” Zeb demands frantically, the panicked urgency in his eyes making her heart ache.

“Zeb, you’ve suffered a huge shock, you’re not thinking rationally. I need you to try to calm down and then we can discuss what needs to happen.” Hera soothes gently, watching with unease as the giant lasat begins irritably pacing the small co*ckpit like a caged animal. The blotched and wandering hyperspace lights cast odd shadows over his pained expression.

“You’re not listening to me Hera!! He’s in danger! I can’t let that happen to him! We’ve got to go get him!” He urges, fangs baring as he pleads with his captain. “Zeb, I understand you’re worried…” Hera presses gently, recoiling slightly as her friend rounds on her with an irate expression.

“I can’t let him end up torn apart floating in a tube, Hera!! I have to get him out now! I’ll do it myself! Just let me take the Phantom!” He bellows, angry tears welling in his eyes as he stares at his friend with an unhinged desperation she hadn’t seen since they’d rescued him from the rubble on lasan. For a long moment, it steals her breath.

“Zeb, the kids…” She warns quietly, hoping his deep concern for them can snap him back to reality. His ears twitch downward for a moment as he realizes he’d shouted and prays to the ashla the kids hadn’t heard what had happened to that agent.

“Zeb, we’re concerned about Kallus too and we’re Not going to let that happen to him.” Kanan soothes, cautiously placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He doesn’t need the force to know the turmoil and pain that’s churning in the lasat. “Take a few deep breathes with me buddy, try to calm down so we can talk rationally.” He adds encouragingly, using the force to add more umph to his request.

Zeb begrudgingly nods, the pounding of his heart nearly painful in his chest. He closes his large eyes and balls his fists but after a few long moments he’s able to relax a fraction and begin to think clearly.

“Kallus knows what he’s doing. There’s not been a single issue with any of the intel he’s given us. He’s not in any immediate danger, Zeb, so even if we try to coerce him to leave he probably won’t! He’s doing incredible good where he is right now and he’s not going to abandon that when there’s no tangible threat. If we try to get messages to him to convince him to leave it’ll put him in danger! The best thing we can do for him at the moment is to trust him.” Kanan reasons gently, feeling his friend’s crushing disappointment.

Everything about the lasat seems to whither. His massive shoulders dropping along with his head and ears. Large green eyes stare at the cold metal floor beneath him in defeat. He can’t argue Kanan’s reasoning but still wants to. It doesn’t sit right with him that he can’t protect Kallus the way he wants to. That the human would choose not to let him keep him safe.

“Kallus is no fool; he’ll know something is up long before we do and he’ll ask us to extract him. Trust him Zeb.” He adds firmly, squeezing his massive shoulder for good measure. Zeb stays planted to the spot for a few long moments, considering the jedi’s words and conceding that it does ring true. He’d let his emotions get the better of him, clouding his judgement. The skin of his cheeks beneath his fur burns slightly, feeling embarrassed for his outburst. Surely his friends both suspect his feelings for Kallus now.

“Sorry.” He mumbles softly, eyes lingering on the floor as he shifts his feet. “Don’t be sorry! We know you just want to protect him, Zeb. And I promise, we’ll get him out safely. Just when he’s ready…not this very second.” Hera says in her gentle motherly voice. Her eyes shimmer with concern and affection as she looks at the lasat’s dejected expression.

She can’t help but pull him into a hug, hating seeing him so put out. Zeb pats the twi’lek’s small back muttering a quiet ‘thanks’ as she slowly releases him. One of Hera’s hands comes to the side of his face, making him meet her piercing eyes. “He’ll be ok Zeb, I promise. Go get some rest, ok?” Finding the promise and tender gesture reassuring, he nods and quietly lumbers to his bunk. *******

It'd been hours since they’d met Swain’s transport at the rendezvous point, the agent looking shaken and pale as she’d marched off the Ghost. Hours since Kanan had invited Rex to his room to do some jedi meditation practices to soothe his PTSD. And hours longer still since Zeb had disappeared into his room after losing his wits in the co*ckpit. She hadn’t been able to hear everything but she’d heard enough and is thankful she’d been held back from the mission after all, though she’d never admit it.

Her eyes wander from the painting she’s pretending to work on in her room toward the lasat’s closed door. Sabine sighs defeatedly as she sets the paint can down and crosses the hallway to her friend’s room. “Zeb…it’s me. Can I come in?” She asks, hoping he won’t shoo her away for being so catty with him the last few days.

A frown tugs at her lips as the moments drag on but relief floods her chest as she hears a muffled ‘Come in.” A soft sigh escapes her again as she steps into the dimly lit room filled with the scent of teenage boy, fur, and whisky. Instead of the warm smile she’d hoped to see, she’s greeted instead with the massive lasat’s back as he lays on his bunk facing the wall. She waits a few long moments for him to say something, her shoulders sagging slightly when he remains silent.

“Ezra’s wrong you know, his bunk smells way worse than yours!” She teases weakly, hoping to break the dreary mood lingering in the room. Zeb’s ear swivels in her direction before turning back once more, a soft grunt of a forced laugh his only response. She sighs quietly, scanning the ground for the words to say. Saying sorry is never easy, especially for a stubborn Mandalorian!

“Zeb…you were right. I needed to be grounded for a bit. I’m sorry for acting how I did.” The words are tight and forced yet warm and guilted. Zeb’s ear swivels again once more, his sensitive hearing picking up all her movements and sighs. “It’s alright. Jus glad you’re ok.” He growls softly, sounding truly miserable. Her heart aches for her friend and she quietly sits on his bunk, her side pressing against his back.

With a sigh, she wraps her arm around his chest and rests her cheek on his bicep. As her other hand pets the soft fur on his upper arm, she can feel his muscles relaxing into the affectionate embrace. Sabine watches his shadowed profile as she wracks her mind for what to say. It’s clear he’s distraught about what’d happened to that agent and worried sick that Kal will end up in a similar state. But there’s nothing they can do but wait! Which is the worst!

Deciding words won’t help, she softly hums a lullaby her own mother used to sing to her when she was a young child. A small smile plays on her lips as her friend’s ear swivels and twitches at the soft melody, feeling his muscles relaxing further in her embrace. She’d never hummed this to him before. Serenaded him with Shyriiwook until she’d lost her voice, naturally! But never had she shared this personal song with anyone on the Ghost.

Somehow, he can sense the importance of the gesture and a soft growly hum escapes him as a small smile lingers on his lips. She pushes away the painful thoughts of her home world and family as she hums and pets Zeb’s fur soothingly. Now is not the time to get emotional over her own problems and past nor to consider that dreaded dark saber in Kanan’s room. Right now, she’s supposed to be strong for her friend.

Chapter 22: A Broken Ghost

Chapter Text

The thrusters of the ship ease up as it lands gracefully on the platform, the engine’s hum drowned completely by the torrential rain thundering upon the Ghost’s exterior. Zeb looks out the co*ckpit window at the maelstrom raging around them, blurring the maintenance shop into a dark silhouette that takes on an ominous air in this environment.

“‘Continuous rain’, wow! Intelligence really won the understatement of the year award!” Ezra grumbles, crossing his arms and leaning back as he glares out the canopy. The teen had been short-tempered and glum since Sabine had elected to remain on Mandalore to aide her family.

Zeb sighs sadly, the Ghost had felt incomplete ever since. Everyone was obviously happy for her to have her family back and proud of her for taking on such a daring and daunting task but it’s hard not having her with them, with their family.

“Well, just be thankful you don’t have to do the repairs. Our contact here is a rebel sympathizer that’s done miracles to the command ships and has agreed to fix up the Ghost for us.” Hera soothes calmly, relieved to get the help her precious ship has been begging for. “Good. I’m going to my bunk.” The teen grumbles in response, looking as miserable as the weather outside. Hera rolls her eyes at the teen’s back and shares a knowing look with Zeb.

“If you don’t need me then I’m goin’ for a drink.” He states firmly, needing some respite from Ezra’s melancholy. “Just be careful out there.” The twi’lek warns, concern in her dazzlingly green eyes. “He’ll be fine.” Kanan assures calmly, placing a warm hand on her shoulder and leading her from the co*ckpit to meet their contact.

“Be careful.” He whispers conspiratorially over his shoulder, pulling an amused grin from the lasat. “Don’ worry ‘bout me!” Zeb says confidently, rising and stretching before lumbering from the ship. The platform is encircled with a series of tunnels connecting it to the covered ‘streets’ and marketplaces filled with vendors and bars. The savory scent of soup warms the rather frigid area, giving the planet the impression of possibly being hospitable.

He takes a moment to look around and take in his surroundings. Though the architecture is shabby it serves its purpose in shielding the low set, crouching buildings from the never-ending torrential rain. Thick metal canopies hover over the buildings and structures, extending far beyond their limits to keep the rain from pummeling the sides of the city. But the sides are open, allowing the view of the rain pouring down beyond the city limits.

What a peculiar, soggy place. Why not completely enclose the city? Keep it temperature controlled with artificial lighting and heat? Why allow the continual storm to be a part of the city? He shakes his head, not knowing the reasons nor really caring to. So long as he’s not staying here permanently, it doesn’t matter to him. The lasat scans the street, the string lights above the vendors giving a welcoming air despite the shady looking beings lurking in the alley ways and side streets.

Ordering a bowl of soup, he continues down the street in search of a bar to his liking. The broth warms his belly, making him smile and sigh with the small comfort as he slowly lumbers through the crowd. To not get jostled while sipping his meal, he sticks to the outer side of the street, keeping his ears perked for any sign of threat each time he passes a darkened alley.

“Garazeb Orellios! What the kriff are you doing here?!” A familiar voice suddenly hisses nearly in a whisper. The lasat nearly jumps from his fur as he spots the human standing inches away from his side, his blonde hair covered by the hood of his black shirt.

“Karabast! Kal! Don’t do that!” He hisses back, frowning at the soup he’d spilt on the ground. Realizing who he’s talking to, his ears perk up and expression softens as he looks to the human. A warmth spreads through his broad chest at the sight of the man and it’s all he can do to not pull him into a strong embrace and demand he return to the Ghost with him immediately.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks instead, the eagerness in his eyes and twitching of his ears making the human’s stomach flutter. It’s too much to handle seeing the lasat so happy to see him with care written all over his highly expressive face.

Kallus shakes his head to keep himself focused then pulls the hulking lasat by the elbow into the narrow alley with him. There’s barely enough room for the two of them to stand facing one another and the close proximity makes Zeb’s heart race with excitement.

“I asked you first.” Kallus presses firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and willing his heart to stop fluttering like that. Zeb smirks at the agent’s forced irritation, knowing he’s not really upset with him. The fact that he can read him so well makes him feel a strange mix of both pride and honor, like he’s been made privy to some secret.

“Gettin’ repairs done on the ship. We have a mission for an important transport and we need her in top condition.” Zeb answers shortly without worry, giving him all the intel he himself has. “What’re you doin’ here?” He repeats with a bit of a grin, flashing his white fangs. Kallus sighs before answering “I’m undercover investigating possible rebel activity in the city”.

They share an amused look, finding the irony rather humorous.

“How long are you here?” He asks flatly with a small smile lingering on his lips that Zeb finds positively intoxicating. “Not sure. Lemme ask.” With a swift movement, he grabs his comm and quietly requests a planetside timeframe. Kanan’s serene voice notifies him moments later that the repairs should take another 2 hours but that they’ll be leaving in the morning once everyone’s rested. The jedi adds a quiet ‘be careful and have fun’ before signaling out.

“Plenty of time for a drink.” Zeb shrugs, grinning mischievously at the human who can’t help the smile growing on his face. The agent gives him a calculating look as he mulls over the offer, finding it too enticing to refuse.

“Not on the main street. This way.” Kallus says authoritatively, pulling at the lasat’s elbow to follow him down the damp and dark alley. The brief contact sends a thrill of delight through his massive frame and Zeb obediently follows, trusting the man fully as he navigates expertly through the unsavory parts of the city. Large green eyes study the human’s movements and posture, his body emanating a confident dominance and power that keeps the unsavory characters at bay, none wanting to test the man.

Zeb nods politely at the scantily clad twi’lek and theelin prostitutes blowing kisses to them as they pass, promising in coy tones to warm them up and show them a good time. In the dim light, he could swear Kallus’ cheeks are a shade darker but can’t be sure. The human stops briefly in front of a shady looking establishment before the door slides open.

Smoke and the scent of alcohol bombard the lasat’s enhanced sense of smell, making his nose wrinkle for a moment. Without hesitation, he follows Kallus into the dark bar, settling at a table in the most remote corner closest to the window where they can see the downpour past the city limits.

Smart. The dark corner is the most secluded, giving them the most privacy and the proximity to the window will allow the rain to drown their conversation from potential eavesdroppers. Zeb can’t help but smile in appreciation of the human’s wit. He really is brilliant! And handsome. And strong. Karabast!

His stomach flutters as he watches Kallus gracefully slide into the booth before quickly following suite. The pull in his chest argues for him to get closer to the human, close enough that their sides touch but his common sense tells him that isn’t appropriate. He compromises and scoots a bit closer, keeping a few inches between their bodies wherein he can still feel the heat of the man beside him.

As they settle in, a pretty waitress saunters over to take their order, smirking knowingly at the pair before making her way to the bar. They sit in silence until she returns, placing the glasses and large bottle between them. She turns with a suggestive smile on her lips, leaving them alone with their privacy. Zeb pours the drinks, tapping the glasses together before they sip.

An odd silence falls between them and Zeb struggles against all the things he wants to say, none of which he feels confident enough to utter for fear of rejection. He takes a few sips from his glass and searches for a safe topic. Conversation with Kallus hadn’t felt so strained since Bahryn! Realizing his companion is still silent as well, he dares a glance and follows the human’s golden gaze out the window.

“Nice weather huh?” Zeb says sarcastically, looking out the window at the maelstrom beyond. “I rather like the rain. Not all the time like this place but I find it soothing.” Kallus admits softly, gazing at the storm with clear appreciation. The lasat stares at the human’s profile, finding him absolutely enthralling. ‘Mn’ he urges softly, the sound deep and rumbling almost like thunder which makes one corner of Kallus’ mouth twitch upward.

“Mn. I grew up in the middle level of Coruscant. It’s like a ship down there, the light, temperature, atmosphere, everything is artificial.” He explains languidly, looking impossibly relaxed as he sips his drink. Zeb’s ears twitch with surprise, he’d always thought Kallus would be from a wealthy, upper-class family, the son of some rich politician or businessman. The thought of him growing up deep in a giant underground city makes his chest tighten.

“The first time I’d ever seen rain was when I enlisted as a cadet and was transferred to the academy topside. I remember that night like it was yesterday. I’d woken with great fright to the rumbling of the thunder. When I realized what it was, I couldn’t stop watching from the small window above my bunk. I sat there the entire night watching the rain fall over the city. Its constant rhythm was soothing and melancholy, it was like the planet was expressing how I felt…what I couldn’t put into words.”

Kallus suddenly blinks a few times as if coming back to the present. With a sheepish expression, he glances at his companion, smiling briefly before taking a sip. “It’s silly.” He dismisses quickly, shaking his head. “No, it’s not.” Zeb presses firmly with a sincere look that leaves the human without words. Kallus takes another large sip instead, unwilling to continue his story for some reason. Zeb doesn’t press him though, if he wants to share why he’d felt melancholy that night then he’ll be here to listen.

The lasat softly clears his throat, deciding it’s only fair for him to open up a bit as well. “Back on lasan, we’d have a monsoon season every 3 years. It’d be a lot like this actually! Terrible storms for weeks on end. It was hard on the lasat but necessary for the crops and ecosystem. I was only 2 when I lived through my first monsoon season. It nearly scared the fur off me!” He adds with a laugh, shaking his head at his younger self.

Kallus’ eyes light up as he imagines a tiny 2-year-old Zeb, finding the image far too adorable for him to entertain! His stomach knots with guilt as he remembers his own part he’d played in destroying lasan, knowing he doesn’t deserve to be privy to what Zeb is sharing! But the lasat’s expression is gentle and longing as he continues, leaving Kallus to bite his tongue and refill his glass.

“I woke up in the middle of the night when it first began. The walls of the house shook and the lightning kept blinding me in the nursery. I ran as fast as ma legs could carry me to my Gran’s room.” The adoring, longing look on his face makes Kallus wince, hoping his Gran hadn’t been killed in the purge!

He takes a large sip, hoping to counteract the intense conflict raging within. The image of a tiny Zeb rushing to the safety of his grandmother makes his chest warm with adoration, yet the memory of his own actions on that planet makes his stomach churn painfully with guilt. He doesn’t deserve this; Zeb is too good for him and yet he wants so badly to be good enough for him!

“I was so young, I didn’t really understand what was goin’ on, so no one could calm me down! My Gran had to hold me for ‘bout two months straight! Cousins never let me hear the end of it.” He laughs and takes another sip, oblivious to his companion’s inner turmoil. “Do you have any…Kal?” Zeb asks, ears flattening as he sees the odd expression on the human’s face.

Kallus opens and closes his mouth a few times, wanting to say something but everything he comes up with sounds so bland. “Kal don’t.” Zeb says firmly, inching closer and placing a large hand on his forearm.

“I told you, what happened is over for me…moved on. But I…I wanna share my culture…my past with you. Not to make you feel bad but because…it’s a part of me…a part I’ve been ignoring for a long time because it hurt. But now…Kal, you helped me heal a bit. Because I know you didn’t mean for any of it to happen…I’ve been able to see things differently. And…and you’re important to me. Really. You mean a lot to me and I want you to know all of me.” He says honestly, startling himself with his own bold proclamations.

Kallus stares at him in shock, mulling over his words unable to comprehend them fully. “I…I don’t deserve…” he starts weakly, shaking his head. Zeb squeezes his forearm tightly, giving him a piercing look.

“Don’ matter what we deserve. You’re important to me and I want you to know these things.” The sincerity in those green eyes makes that tug in Kallus’ chest flare uncontrollably. It’s all he can do not to dive into that broad chest and wrap himself around him like a toddler desperate for affection.

Instead, he nods slowly, golden eyes shimmering in the dim light. “Ok.” He breathes softly, his voice just above a whisper. The sound would’ve been lost if not for the lasat’s enhanced senses. They stare into each other’s eyes for a few long moments, feeling a strong connection with the being in front of them. It’s surreal. They’d been at each other’s throats for so long but now…now it’s like the most important thing to do is to get closer to one another.

The lasat’s ears suddenly twitch, remembering they’re still in a crowded bar filled with seedy characters. His eyes narrow as he looks around the place, worried their intimate moment had been seen. Thankful for the temporary distraction yet saddened by it as well, Kallus takes another sip to steady himself.

He blinks a few times, realizing he’d drank a bit more than he’d intended far quicker than he should have. But he’s with Zeb and Zeb just proclaimed that he’s special to him and wants to share everything with him. Everything. His mind freezes as he considers what exactly the lasat might have meant by ‘everything’.

He takes a deep breath to calm his frazzled nerves, feeling giddy with anticipation as the lasat returns his gaze to him. “No one’s lookin’ at anyone else.” Zeb notes with confusion, watching Kallus refill their glasses. “Of course not.” He muses, grinning at the look on the lasat’s face. It’s adorable when one ear twitches like that!

“It’s a place of discretion with rooms to rent, workers to rent, and um…gloryholes and the like.” He clears his throat as if embarrassed by the idea. “People come here to order what they want without anyone knowing. Paying notice to other patrons will quickly get you kicked out, so it’s best to ignore everyone else.” He adds in a very proper tone and Zeb notices that he sits up a bit straighter.

Looking around the dimly lit bar, he spots a discreet hallway lined with doors each with payment consoles on the sides. On the other side of the room, he spots two more hallways offering private rooms for private matters. He nods his head and returns his attention to his companion, hoping the staff won’t kick him out for taking a peak around.

“Ahhhhh. An you know this place how then?” He teases, raising his brows as the agent’s cheeks flush deeply.

Kallus fixes him with a stern look but the blush on his cheeks ruins the effect. The lasat chuckles deeply, holding his stomach with mirth at having gotten a rise from him. “It is my job to keep tabs on the seediest of places where rebels might meet or take refuge.” He says in a snippet tone, displeased with the insinuation.

“Like how these two rebels are doin?” Zeb offers playfully, elbowing his stiff companion good naturedly. Kallus can’t help the conspiratorial grin that crosses his face at the term, finding it quite a compliment.

“Exactly.” His grin widens above the rim of his glass, taking a slow sip as their eyes meet which does things to Zeb. A warmth spreads in the lasat’s stomach as he watches the agent’s lips, wishing he could dive in and claim them. What would they feel like against his own?

Unconsciously, his tongue slides over his large bottom lip before he tears his gaze from the human. The simple gesture makes Kallus’ cheeks warm with excitement and he notices with slight alarm that his pants are a bit tighter than they were earlier.

“You know, I wouldn’t judge you if you had used the ‘facilities’ here.” Zeb muses amiably, an impish grin lingering on his lips as the human gives him an incredulous look that he finds adorable. Taking a sip, he shrugs and explains. “For how strict and sterile the Empire is and how it pits its officers against each other, you must’ve been desperate for intimacy. It’s an efficient way to get a bit.”

Kallus stares at him for a long moment, trying to determine if it is indeed a trap. “That is a problem that the Empire has tried, unsuccessfully, to fix.” He says gingerly, keeping a close eye on his companion’s expression. Zeb’s eyebrows raise with interest, urging him to continue. Kallus clears his throat and swirls the whisky around in his glass.

“They provide select upper-level officers ‘night workers’ in designated special rooms in certain establishments with hidden exits. No one can see you go in or out.” He explains succinctly, an admonishing look on his face telling his distaste. The thought makes Zeb’s stomach twist slightly and he fights to sound calm as he asks, “You ever taken advantage of that offer?”. His fur raises as he waits for the answer, praying to the ashla that he hadn’t!

“No, not that! I can’t be with someone who isn’t actually willing.” Kallus says quickly, shaking his head at the thought. Zeb lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and takes another sip. Feeling emboldened from the whisky and aroused by the conversation, Kallus glances sideways to the handsome lasat before admitting, “But I have used the rented rooms.”

Instantly regretting it, his cheeks flush deeply and he takes a large sip to avoid Zeb’s shocked expression. Large green eyes study the agent’s profile, finding the pink on his cheeks positively endearing.
“Agent Kallus, you used a rented room to hook up with a stranger?” Zeb teases, feeling both excited and jealous by the idea. Who was the lucky soul he’d met in that room? What species and gender? What he wouldn’t give to see what they got to see.

“It’s impossible really, for someone like me to meet a stranger at a bar.” Kallus presses as if defending himself, clearly embarrassed with himself. Zeb’s brows furrow at the statement and he shakes his head at the handsome human.

“What d’ya mean? With those golden eyes, you could pick up any gal!” His playful tone holds a bit of coyness, and he can’t help but press his shoulder against Kallus’ for a bit longer than necessary. The mildly flirtatious gesture makes the agent’s heart skip a beat and his clouded mind struggles against the desire to admit what kind of being he’d actually been trying to pick up.

“Thank you but what I mean is, there’s little time to make the…pleasantries necessary as well as act upon them. I’m not free to have any longstanding relations. So, the rooms are most efficient.” He ends, looking rather awkward and avoiding Zeb’s eyes. Picking up on his discomfort, he nods knowingly.

“Yeah, they are. I’ve used ‘em before too.” Zeb assures casually before taking a sip and reveling the human’s stunned expression.

“Really?!” Kallus asks dumbly, golden eyes wide as he scans Zeb’s face for any hint of a lie. The disbelief on the human’s face makes his cheeks warm under his fur and his ears lower a fraction with embarrassment.

“Yeah.” He shrugs, feeling ashamed for the admission even though Kallus had admitted to doing the same. He’d only wanted to make him feel better and yet somehow Kallus is making him feel shamed instead!

“But…you’re so…charismatic and handsome and funny. I wouldn’t think you’d need to use them.” Kallus says before he can question whether he should, too dumbfounded to over think as he normally does. Zeb’s ears twitch upward and his expression brightens.

“Charismatic and handsome huh?” He repeats coyly raising his brows flirtatiously as Kallus rolls his eyes. “And funny” he adds with a half sneer half mischievous smirk that makes Zeb’s stomach flutter. A deep low chuckle reverberates through his chest as he watches the agent take a sip, looking slightly shy for some reason.

“Well, like you said, they’re efficient when you don’t have time and aren’t stayin in the same place long.” Zeb shrugs casually, feeling a bit tipsy from the drink and possible flirting that is happening. He steals a sideways glance at the handsome human by his side, close enough that he can feel his body heat.

Emboldened by his compliments and desperate to act upon the desires he’d been nursing for so long, he takes a deep breath before adding, “would be nice to have someone join the crew that could be a mate though.” The statement makes Kallus’ stomach flutter, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest but he schools his expression and comments coolly, “That would make things easier I supposed.”

Desperate to explore the topic more and ascertain clear answers, with forced calm he adds, “What kind of person would you want to join the crew as a romantic partner?” The agent’s casual and collected exterior is at stark odds with the utter turmoil churning through his body as he waits anxiously for the lasat’s answer.

One of Zeb’s ears twitch upward, and he takes a long sip to give him the confidence to keep going. With forced nonchalance, he slowly responds “I don’ know, someone interesting, strong, brave, someone I can talk to easily, someone I know will have my back. Someone willing to do what’s right no matter how hard it is.”

He pointedly avoids the agent’s gaze and desperately hopes that the vague hinting answer won’t scare him off. What if the human isn’t interested in him after all?? He seems to be flirting and had even called him ‘handsome’ but that may have just been him being nice.

Kallus’ heart skips a beat, and he can feel his muscles both tensing and relaxing all at once. He’d worried Zeb would want someone funny, lighthearted, and extroverted. Is Zeb purposefully describing him? His stomach warms with excitement and that tug in his chest practically radiates ‘yes!!’.

“I see. And what would they look like?” He asks in a cool and coy tone, flashing a suggestive look at the lasat before taking a sip. Zeb’s ears flutter at the small gesture, knowing with almost near certainty that the human is actually flirting with him. A delighted grin spreads across his face and he takes his time pretending to think the question over.

“Depends on the being, I guess. I find all sorts of species attractive. Always been partial to ladies, but I’ve recently found I like certain males.” He ‘accidentally’ brushes the back of his hand against Kallus’ as he grabs his glass, making the agent tremble slightly. Kallus is overly aware of how tight his pants have become with those words and he fights the urge to throw himself on the lasat.

“So, if a male trandoshan was real brave, interesting, and easy to talk to…” Kallus teases lightly, smirking as his companion scowls at him.

“Not inta scales! Or bug kinds. I like fur an skin.” Zeb says forcefully, shaking his head at the suggestion. Perhaps Kallus hadn’t caught on after all or worse…perhaps he isn’t interested! His ears lower a fraction with the thought and he takes another sip as he braces himself.

Kallus chuckles quietly before asking “So, if a human male, whose company you enjoy joined you, you’d be open to a romantic relationship with him?” His deep voice is coy and those golden eyes shimmer with excitement as he looks slightly up toward the muscular lasat.

Zeb gives him a smoldering look that makes him almost drop the glass he’d raised alluringly to his lips.

“If it was the right one, yeah.” He says seriously, pinning him with a look that makes his stomach flip with terror and excitement. The bulge in Kallus’ throat bobs slightly as he swallows, nerves tingling throughout his body as his gaze locks with those beautiful green orbs.

“I see. And how…would one know if they were the ‘right’ one?” He asks with forced calm, inching slightly closer without breaking eye contact. Adrenaline courses through his body as Zeb mirrors his movement, the space between them slowly closing centimeter by excruciating centimeter. Zeb’s lips are merely an inch away and his breath is warm on the agent’s face as he says, “Come back with me”.

Kallus’ golden eyes glisten in the dim light with such relief and unknown emotions, his heart breaking and warming at the same time as it fills with both immeasurable relief and crushing disappointment. He opens and closes his mouth as he struggles against himself. There is still too much good that he can do. He can’t go with him yet.

But if Zeb kisses him now as he so desperately hopes he will, he’s not sure he’ll have the strength to leave him again. “Zeb…” he breathes quietly, gazing deeply into those enchantingly green eyes as if trying to explain all this to him. The tug in his chest pulls him in, urging him to close the gap between their bodies and Zeb can’t help but submit. Without hesitating any longer, he dives down to bring their lips together, his large hands snaking slowly around the agent who tenses with the sudden contact.

Kallus’ mind freezes as he feels Zeb’s lips against his own, a moment later he can feel himself melting against him. He reaches up to run a hand through the long fur lining his jaw as the other hand grabs at the front of his jumpsuit pulling him closer. He turns his head a fraction and presses his lips against the lasat’s as a low growly moan rumbles in his throat.

That tug in his chest burns with a warmth that spreads through his limbs, assuring him this is where he’s meant to be. This is home. Here with Zeb, this is the home he’s been searching for for so long.
Zeb’s heart pounds rapidly in his chest, racing with excitement, relief, and unbridled delight. All worries about having misread Kallus’ intentions dissipate as he kisses him back, assuring him that he does feel the same after all! He brushes the fur on Kallus’ cheek as he repositions and dives back for another lingering kiss.

He can’t help but pull the lasat closer, desperate to feel as close to him as possible. Zeb’s muscular arms wrap tightly around him in response, pulling him nearly into his lap as the kiss deepens with their need. Kallus’ hand sneaks to the back of Zeb’s head, locking it in place as he licks at his large bottom lip.

Zeb parts his lips, allowing the agent’s tongue to slip into his mouth. A low moan escapes him as their tongues caress and massage against one another, exploring each other’s mouths deeply and passionately. He can feel his slit opening with need and he’s about to press the human down onto his back when he remembers they’re in a booth…in a public place…

As if burnt, he withdraws his tongue from the agent’s mouth and pulls away in time to catch a few of the workers eyeing them with interest. “Karabast” he breathes quietly, turning back to Kallus and finding a confused almost hurt expression in those golden eyes. “Rented room?” Zeb asks gruffly, feeling himself half unsheathed already.

Kallus inhales sharply at the suggestion before biting his bottom lip and nodding quickly. He can’t help but chuckle at the man’s enthusiasm which makes him feel invincible. He dives down and gently bites the human’s ear, noting with great delight how it makes his body tremble uncontrollably. “After you.” He breathes against Kallus’ ear before licking his soft lobe which earns a low moan from the agent.

Pulling back, Kallus fixes him with a fierce look of passion before grabbing his wrist to lead him down the narrow hallway to the furthest room possible. He only lets his lover go when he stops before the payment console to enter his credits. Unable to control himself, Zeb wraps his arms around Kallus pulling his backside against him tightly.

Feeling that hardening member already unsheathing and pressing against his buttocks, Kallus can’t help but moan and press back, his body writhing with need. Stunned by the intense reaction, Zeb nibbles and licks on the human’s neck, grinning as he nearly unravels. “Zeb!” Kallus breathes desperately, forgetting where they are and what he’s supposed to be doing; all he can feel is that thick member grinding between his cheeks and the rippling muscles of the hulking lasat pulling him closer.

That toned behind rubbing sensually against his hardened member makes Zeb all but lose control and he can’t help but thrust against his lover while his hands roam up and down his chest and hips. “Ah!” Kallus whimpers quietly, one arm wrapping behind to pull the lasat’s body even closer against his own as his head falls back against the broad shoulder behind him.

The sound of a glass snapping down sharply brings Kallus’ lust filled mind to its senses and he quickly finishes with the console as Zeb bites at his neck and gropes his chest and stomach. Desperate with need, he pulls his lover into the rented room before locking it securely. “Zeb.” He breathes but the lasat dives on him, silencing him with a passionate kiss so intense that it takes his breath away.

Without parting lips, they claw at each other’s clothing, tearing it frantically from their bodies in a mad rush to get as close as possible. Mind racing wildly, Kallus pulls away from the kiss and runs his hands up and down the longer fur of that broad striped chest before him, reveling in how soft it feels against his fingers.

“Zeb, I’m not going to last long.” He admits, feeling himself throbbing powerfully against the confines of his pants. Thick fingers gently brush up and down his back and sides as Zeb kisses his bare shoulder and neck, enjoying how smooth the human’s skin feels.

“It’s alright, I won’t either.” Zeb growls in his deep, gruff voice as his claws tenderly caress his bare stomach down toward the agent’s belt. He pauses as he brushes run over uneven skin, the feeling of scar tissue causing him alarm. Large green eyes widen as they take in the long deep scars running across his abdomen as if he’d been gutted by some three fingered…He freezes for a moment before comparing the marks to his own claws, his heart clenching with worry.

“Onderon.” Kallus breathes quietly, his voice quivering slightly as his hand covers the lasat’s against his stomach, hiding the ghastly scar from his lover’s view. “Not Lasan.” He clarifies meekly with guilt heavy in his tone. Zeb meets his gaze, feeling painfully protective of the man as he recalls the story of Saw’s lasat mercenary. He pulls the agent into his arms holding him tightly as he rubs his cheek against Kallus’.

“I’ll never let somethin’ like that happen to you again, Kal.” He promises tenderly, pulling back just enough to tenderly claim Kallus’ lips. The honest oath sends a shiver of emotion through the human and he can’t help but tremble and cling to the lasat as that tug in his chest pounds happily. Releasing his lips, Zeb rests his forehead against his mate’s, his green eyes roaming down to the scar.

He pauses for a moment as he sees the large bulge between the human’s thighs then rubs the length of it gently with his large hand. “Ah!” Kallus moans, hands clinging to those massive biceps to keep him steady against the pleasure. Zeb grins as he holds the human tightly and works the clothed member up and down, playing with pressure to see what gets the most satisfying reaction.

“Like that huh?” His voice is low and gruff, playful yet seductive as he watches his mate squirm under his touch. “Yes! Ah, please!” He breathes as his golden eyes flutter closed, his hips bucking into that warm, large hand. In response, Zeb slowly licks the side of his neck, enjoying how it makes the human tremble as he unfastens his pants.

He runs his claws down the toned sides of the agent, his fingers sinking below the thin fabric of his undershorts that he guides down his muscular thighs. With unabashed interest, he gazes down at his lover’s member, growling with desire as he looks at a human male’s genitalia for the first time. He licks his lips and pulls Kallus closer before wrapping one large hand around the throbbing pink co*ck not all that unlike his own.

“AH!” Kallus moans loudly, eyes fluttering closed as his lover slowly strokes him. “Ka…karabast, Zeb!!” He groans as his hips begin thrusting into the touch, the large hand stimulating both the shaft and head all at once. Zeb licks and nibbles his throat as Kallus’ head falls back, nearly making the human cum on the spot.

Kallus forces himself to focus before the lasat completely takes control and pulls away. Disappointed as his mate’s co*ck slips from his hand, Zeb’s growl turns to interest as Kallus tugs down the remaining part of his jumpsuit. His golden eyes widen as he takes in the beautiful sight of that large, thick member; deep, dark purple with ridges running down the sides and bottom almost like stripes, already slick and throbbing. The biggest he’s ever seen but he’s sure his body can manage.

Zeb’s stomach knots for a moment as the human stares at his unsheathed co*ck, hoping it’s to his liking. He gasps quietly as Kallus suddenly drops to his knees before him and wraps his lips around his member with an almost desperate urgency. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his lover expertly sucks his throbbing co*ck, his head bobbing back and forth in sync with the hand rubbing the length of the shaft.

Kallus moans softly at the slightly sweet taste of the slick coating his lover’s co*ck, finding it absolutely delicious. One of Kallus’ hands slide across Zeb’s hip back behind him, cupping his muscular buttocks and forcing his hips into his face. He bites his lower lip as the human squeezes the ample flesh of his ass in a way he’d done many times to his female partners but had never been on the receiving end.

A deep groan rumbles in his chest as the agent takes him in further than he’d expected he could; further than any female had taken him and forces his hips not to thrust so as not to choke his mate. His claws roam through Kallus’s gold hair, caressing him adoringly as he enthusiastically sucks his co*ck with an unabashed hunger he’d not expected of the disciplined man. “Kal…Kal!!!” He groans in warning, feeling his balls tightening with his nearing org*sm.

Gasping slightly, Kallus pulls back and wipes at his mouth, staring at the co*ck in his face before glancing sheepishly up to his lover. For some reason, the sight warms the lasat’s heart and he pulls the human up and into his arms. Their hips grind gently against each other, feeling their co*cks sliding between their bodies as their lips find each other once more.

“I’ve never been with a male.” Zeb confesses quietly, feeling it important for his partner to know before they get too into things. Golden eyes full of desire meet those green orbs. “It’s alright. I have.” Kallus’ voice is deep and velvety with a coyness that sends a shiver down Zeb’s spine. He feels a fresh wave of slick coating his already dripping member sliding against his mate’s.

“How…how do we…” Zeb asks in a timid tone, enjoying the friction but needing more. With a mischievous look, Kallus guides him to the bed and pushes him gently to lay on his back. For a moment, he stares at the lasat with an adoring gaze, soaking in the beautiful sight of those bare muscles and thick, slightly upward-curved co*ck standing tall and ready for him. Licking his lips, he climbs on top and straddles his hips.

Zeb stares at Kallus’ thick, red member as Kallus slicks his own fingers. He runs his claws gently along the length of his lover’s co*ck which twitches strongly upward before flopping down against his furry, striped belly. Kallus’ brows furrow for a moment before a groan escapes him. A surge of arousal flows down to Zeb’s member as he realizes what his mate is doing atop him; stretching himself to accommodate him.

Without moving the human on him, he sits up as best as he can to nibble and bite at the sensitive skin around his pink nipples and muscular chest earning breathy moans and whimpers. Unable to control himself, he idly strokes the human’s co*ck poking at his belly and grins as he feels Kallus tremble. It’s oddly satisfying touching anothers member and knowing whose it belongs to sends a thrill of excitement through him.

Kallus’ hips writhe as he quickly penetrates and stretches himself, desperate for his lover to take him, to feel Zeb inside him, claiming him for his own, to be as close as possible. He gasps and moans as he thrusts back on his own fingers, feeling Zeb’s slick co*ck tapping against the thick flesh of his ass, ready and eager for entry. Seeing his lover in such an unraveled, desperate state nearly sends Zeb off the deep end, finding the sight too beautiful to handle. He bites the agent’s neck roughly as he strokes his member, brushing his thumb over the tip and earning a loud whimper.

“Zeb…I need you.” He breathes, golden eyes burning like embers and wild with lust. He moans as he removes his own fingers and grabs the slick throbbing co*ck behind him. Kallus pauses for a moment to look into those beautiful eyes, sharing a look of adoration and vulnerability before kissing the lasat deeply.

Zeb’s large hand wraps behind Kallus’ head, pulling him closer as he slides his tongue in. But it’s a brief kiss, almost a reassurance that it’s not just lust but something deeper, something more. Zeb groans with pleasure as the human expertly guides his large co*ck between those beautiful cheeks against his entrance and slowly lowers down with a loud moan. Kallus’ head falls back as the tip of Zeb’s co*ck stretches him wide open.

Zeb’s eyes roll in his head at the tightness around his member, his vision blurring with pleasure as he fights to watch his lover above him. Slowly and with gasping movements, Kallus lowers down, taking Zeb in inch by inch until he feels like he’ll be torn apart. As he sits on his mate’s hips, his body trembles, his hands resting on that broad chest below him to keep him steady. Golden eyes open a fraction to gaze at the handsome lasat beneath him whose straining with all his might to keep himself from thrusting.

“Karabast! Kal! You feel so…feel so good!” Zeb moans breathily, forcing himself to remain still to let his partner adjust, to not hurt him. Kallus’ brows furrow as he gingerly moves his hips, gasping and whimpering at the size of the member inside him. Seeing him in such a state, Zeb strokes his softening co*ck and caresses his chest and stomach. Feeling those clawed hands gently touching him and roaming across his body, even over that dreadful scar on his belly sends a thrill of excitement through Kallus.

A soft moan escapes him as his hips thrust gently into his lover’s hand, feeling his muscles relaxing around that massive member buried deep inside. Slowly, he gingerly moves up and down, gaining confidence as he rides his lover. A deep moan reverberates in Zeb’s chest as he moves within that tight hole, pleasure radiating through his thighs and stomach. Strong hands wrap around the human’s waist, keeping him steady as he hops and writhes.

Kallus whimpers each time that massive co*ck rubs against his prostate, his own hardened member slapping against his lover’s stomach, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

“Ahhhhhh, Kal!! Kal, kara…karabast, I’m not gonna…” He gasps with eyes rolling in his head, his face contorting as if trying to hold on. Seeing him nearing his limit, Kallus moans loudly in response and strokes his own member as his hips move wildly. The sight of the disheveled agent touching himself sends him over the edge and his massive muscles tense as blinding pleasure overcomes him. Hearing Zeb calling his name and moaning is too much to handle and he madly rides him and strokes himself as he unravels into pure pleasure.

Kallus keeps writhing as his org*sm slowly fades, the feeling of his lover moving inside him too good to release just yet. When he finally open his eyes, all he sees are giant green eyes staring lovingly at him, watching his movements as if hypnotized. “Hey there.” Zeb greets playfully, grinning toothily and moaning with pleasure as he gently thrusts into his mate. Too tired to tired to even roll his eyes, Kallus snorts at the bland greeting before collapsing onto his lover’s broad chest.

Muscular, furry arms wrap tightly around him, holding him securely in place. The lasat’s body is warm and the fur sticks to his own sweaty skin but it doesn’t matter, neither does the mess he’d made that’s smeared between them. All that matters is that he’s here with Zeb who’s holding him close. He wraps his own arms around Zeb as best as he can and snuggles into the crook of his neck, feeling his facial fur brush against him as Zeb rubs his cheek against him. Scenting him. The thought makes him smile as he begins drifting to sleep.

The feeling of Zeb’s member sliding from him jolts him back to consciousness and his eyes flutter open as he looks drearily around. “Mornin’.” Zeb’s voice is gravelly and low, positively the most beautiful things he’s ever heard and a smile tugs at his lips. “I’m sorry.” Kallus mumbles quietly, rubbing his eyes. “Don’ be. I’ve jus’ been enjoyin’ the view.”

Zeb’s toothy smile is so full of affection and openness that it makes Kallus’ heart swell with a love that he can’t bring himself to voice. “Must’a been tired.” The lasat presses, repositioning his mate more comfortably beside him before pulling him into his chest. “Mn. I’ve not been sleeping well.” Kallus confirms as he nuzzles his face into the soft fur of his lover’s chest. “Thas not good. How long?” Zeb’s gruff voice is heavy with care.

“Bahryn.”

Large green eyes study his mate’s profile, feeling worried by the casual way he’d uttered the name. Had he really not slept well since the ice moon? That’s nearly a year ago! Then again, the life of a spy isn’t one of luxury. He must have been operating under torturous stress. “Ok then. Let’s get ya back to the Ghost.” Zeb proposes easily, as if it’s the most natural thing to do.

The statement makes the agent’s head pop up enough to look at his lover’s face. “You can sleep in my bunk with me. Have the best sleep ye’ve had in years!” Zeb says lightly, wiggling his brows suggestively. Kallus exhales a soft laugh as he looks at the adorable yet powerful being, finding him absolutely perfect. He has to say no but with that longing and hopeful expression…

Kallus jerks suddenly as if shocked, a sharp beeping from a comm on his discarded belt signaling an urgent notification. Cursing his luck, he reluctantly tears his body from Zeb’s to retrieve the darned device. ‘Sir, we’ve located the rebel ship ‘ghost’. Naval support is mobilizing now. Sending coordinates to the docking bay.’

Kallus’ eyes go wide, his warm skin turning white as he turns back to Zeb whose ears flatten against his head. “Negative, lieutenant!” He says with a bit too much urgency. Clearing his throat, he recomposes and explains “the ship is empty. I’ve located the rebels in the center market and require assistance apprehending them. Meet me at these coordinates.”

“Confirmed. Sending troopers immediately, Sir.” Without wasting a moment, Kallus madly dresses himself in a frantic rush. He’s pulling on his boots when he realizes that Zeb hasn’t moved.

“Zeb, get dressed! Your family needs you!” Kallus presses, giving the lasat a stern look when he remains stubbornly still. “Zeb.” He presses firmly in an urgent tone. “Come with me.” Zeb commands, his deep voice firm and unwavering. The words send an excited thrill through the agent which is doubled when the towering lasat stands before him wearing only a look of pure longing and adoration.

“Kal, come with me.” He repeats more softly bringing his large hands to his mate’s cheeks, forcing him to look into his eyes that are filled with a deep yearning. The concern in those beautiful green eyes makes Kallus’ stomach flutter, that tug in his chest begging him to accept the offer. He sighs and closes his eyes. He won’t be able to say no if he keeps looking at them!

“Zeb, I have to help you and your family off world. If I go with you, you’ll all be captured.” His voice wavers with emotion despite his forced calm and it makes Zeb’s heart ache for him. His ears lower for a moment, knowing that his words are true. Even though he wants to come with him to the Ghost, to safety, he’s choosing to protect him and his family, putting them before himself. A deep pride and respect spreads through his chest as he gazes at the man that fills him with such affection.

Without hesitating, he dives down and presses his lips against Kallus’. For a moment, he can feel the agent freeze at the sudden intimate contact. But then he melts against his lips, gently pressing back. Everything in Zeb cries for him to stay there with the human, to pull him into his arms and drag him back to the Ghost with him. But his family is in danger and he has to get them out. Urgency alone forces him to break the kiss.

Kallus’ eyes flutter open and he stares at the lasat for a long moment before flashing a sad smile. “Next time.” He breathes, feeling his heart breaking; knowing there might not be a ‘next time’. Zeb’s head co*cks to the side as he pulls his jumpsuit over his massive frame, an inquisitive look on his handsome face.

“Next time, I’ll come with you.” Kallus clarifies slowly, sheepishly as if unsure. “Promise.” He adds more boldly, meeting his mate’s eyes. To his relief, those green orbs are filled with delight. Zeb can’t help but pull him in for one last kiss that lingers, borrowing time neither of them have. “Go!” Kallus urges, hating that they have to part yet again.

Zeb looks over his shoulder as he reaches the door, taking one last look at his mate and feeling that odd tug in his chest aching dully. A moment later, Kallus stands alone feeling everything and nothing all at once. Looking in the mirror, he fixes his hair and repositions the hood of his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he slips from the room and into the night. *******

Chapter 23: Losing Everything pt.1

Chapter Text

‘Ashes and fire will usher in the new beginning.’ The mystics had repeated the prophecy for hundreds of years, believing it to be true despite its delay in coming to pass. They’d even created an annual ritual to induce the ‘new beginning’ during the new year’s celebration. It was meant as a promise of a new more prosperous chapter but sounded more like a curse or a warning. Which is why, like Garazeb, many decided to simply ignore it; chalk it up to loony old ladies getting off on the brief attention it’d get them.

But the prophecy whispers in his dazed mind as he stares in utter disbelief at the waves of thick smoke billowing across the red sky. Fire rages ferociously as far as he can see. The city, the farmlands and pastures beyond, and the lush forests in the distance, everything set ablaze. With a thunderous sound, the palace he’d dedicated his life to protecting collapses before him. The symbol of their power, their honor, their nobility reduced to rubble.

Ashes are lifted by the warm breeze, dancing around him as if teasing and catching in his fur. He wonders for a moment if it’s ashes of the crops, the buildings, or the innumerable lasat that’d been blasted by those horrifying weapons. Tears blur his vision as he stares at the burning city he’s supposed to protect. The image of the lifeless bodies of the royal family lingers in his mind making his heart clench with unbearable guilt. They’d trusted him and he’d failed them when they needed him most.

Massive ships linger above the wreckage, floating over the ruined planet as fire licks at its bellies just out of reach. Bile rises in his throat as he glares at the cursed ships that open fire on the already decimated city. This isn’t war, this is annihilation! They’re wiping out his entire race as well as their planet. And all he can do is watch. Not since he was a newborn kit had he been so powerless.

Rage boils in his veins, coursing powerfully through his body. But it’s not just the Empire he’s enraged by, it’s his own failure. Never before had he failed so completely and it was his people who’d suffered for it. His people, those he’d taken an oath to protect. Those that are fleeing for their lives as walkers gun them down. Blood trickles down his forehead from where he’d hit his head in the first explosion, matting in his fur. But he doesn’t feel it.

“Captain, we have to go!” A deep voice full of fear urges behind him.

‘I don’t deserve to be called that’. He can’t tear his gaze from the devastation before him, his limbs impossibly heavy with despair. He fought until the end and it wasn’t enough. What’s the point in fighting now? He can’t save anyone.

“Captain!” The voice is coupled with a strong hand wrapping around Garazeb’s bicep. That strong hand tugs urgently but can’t move the massive lasat rooted to the spot.

Over the roaring of the fires, he hears cries of agony that seem to seep into his very being. To the left of the city a group of civilian lasat run through the burning pastures, shrieking in pain as troopers open fire with those monstrous weapons. Tears roll down his cheeks as he watches them writhe in agony as their bodies slowly disintegrate. Not a merciful death nor an honorable one.

An anguished groan escapes him as he struggles against his innate desire to protect them. But it’s too late. The distance is too great and they’re already dying. The same scene unfolds in all directions as he stands on a hill outside the city limits. He shakes his head, in utter disbelief. He’d never believed much in the ashla but he finds himself praying to it desperately to let him wake from this horrendous nightmare.

‘This can’t be real.’

Terror surges in his chest as he looks at the carnage around him, death and destruction waiting in all directions. He gasps as he remembers that voice that’d urged him moments ago, turning only to find the forest. Unable to move him, the few surviving honor guards had been forced to leave without him. A stabbing pain streaks through his chest.

He wants to run after them, to join his brothers, but his body won’t move. Trembling, he stares at the darkening forest, breath coming in heaving sighs as tears stream down his face. Another deafening explosion thrusts him forward into the ground, making his head swim yet again.

Survival instincts urge him to get up, to run. But he’s given all he can. There’s no hope. No escape. Defeat weighs his body down as his vision darkens.

Better just to die. ******

A lovely female voice breaks the silence enveloping him in the dark void of death. It’s comforting, almost motherly in tone though he can’t make out what’s being said. He feels his ears twitch, finding it odd that he can feel his body at all. Aren’t you supposed to leave it behind when you die? Become a floating, bodiless, invisible spirit?

A deeper more masculine voice interrupts the quiet making him grimace slightly. His fangs bare for a moment. That’s not right. He shouldn’t feel his fangs. How much of his body is he still attached to?! Can he not even die properly?!

With great effort he tries moving his claws and toes, finding to his dismay that he can feel his extremities. But then wouldn’t that mean…

‘Karabast! I’m still alive!’

A growl rumbles in his throat at the realization. But if he hadn’t died then what happened? All at once, his groggy mind recalls the all-consuming destruction around him, the screams of the lasat echoing through his being. With a sharp gasp of terror, his eyes snap open with a violent jolt, adrenaline coursing through his battered body.

“Hey, easy there, big guy!” A human male enters his vision. In the blink of an eye, Garazeb springs from the table and hurls the armorless storm trooper across the room with all his might. The human groans as he hits the wall and slumps to the floor in a daze. A threatening growl escapes Garazeb, his limbs trembling with frantic energy and fear as he rushes toward the fallen trooper, ready to rip him apart.

An orange astromech hurls itself in his path, an electrified arm jabbing roughly into his thigh. A pained howl rips at his dry throat as electric currents seize his massive muscles. Seeing red, Garazeb grabs the mech by its head, lifting it high above him before slamming it down into the metal floor. His ears swivel as he hears a voice crying out behind him, shouting something above the astromechs binary cries.

Snarling, he glares over his shoulder at a green skinned twi’lek wearing an anxious expression as she stares at him. She raises her slim hands placatingly and he realizes that it’s her voice that’d he’d heard before. Garazeb’s face softens a fraction as it hits him; the Empire doesn’t employ nonhumans…

Massive muscles relax a fraction before he feels a sudden jab in his neck. His green eyes narrow with anger as they land on the human in front of him, who’d somehow snuck up on him. A growl rumbles in his throat, fangs baring as he feels his body going limp. The room swims before him and he feels the human supporting him, keeping him from crashing to the floor. But why?

Darkness creeps into the corners of his blurred vision as he’s helped to lay down on something. A table? A bunk? Medical bed? He’s not sure. Whatever drug they’d injected into him makes him feel like the room is spinning. Garazeb’s ears twitch, brows furrowing for a moment and a weak growl rumbles in his throat as he fights to stay awake.

“Figured one probably wouldn’t be enough for this guy.” The human says lightly. Another quick prick on the side of his throat is followed by a warmth that spreads through his muscles and claims his consciousness.

He studies the hulking lasat’s face for a long moment before confirming he’s out. A heavy exhale leaves him as he wills his own muscles to relax. That’d been a close one. Throughout his life he’d faced many giant beings but usually they’re a lot slower, easier to dodge. That crash against the wall had him seeing stars long enough that the lasat could’ve landed a lethal blow had it not been for Chop.

“Are you ok?” The twi’lek’s gentle voice is strained with concern. “I’ll be fine.” He assures confidently. His desire to have her believe their guest is a good fit for the team outweighs his desire to have her dote upon his injuries.

“What happened?!” She asks more seriously, eyes narrowing as he simply shrugs.

“He caught me off guard. Didn’t expect he could move that fast. Pretty impressive actually.” There’s an amused note in the human’s voice that makes her frown.

“Kanan, he threw you across the room like a ragdoll.”

“I startled him.” Kanan shrugs nonchalantly before turning to the droid. “Chop are you ok?”

The astromech angrily chirps something in binary that makes her eyes roll again. “He’s complaining, so he’s fine.” She muses as Kanan helps the droid up and checks over his metallic frame.

“No, Chop, we’re not throwing him out the airlock!” Kanan says firmly, shaking his head at the livid astromech. Surely the grudge-holding droid will never let the lasat live this one down! But it’s no matter. The force had led them to him and Kanan’s sure he’s supposed to be a part of their growing team.

“Hera, we need to check his injuries.” He notes with a hint of worry. The droid mumbles irritably in binary, bringing its small arms to its sides. “Not you! You don’t have any injuries Chop.” He counters, shaking his head at the resentful droid that continues cursing.

Cautiously, Hera approaches the hulking lasat, watching his expression closely for any sign of waking. She’s not sure she could take a blow like Kanan had. She gently inspects the bandages on his head, noting with relief that his injury hadn’t reopened. They’re running low on medical supplies as it is, they really can’t afford to keep dressing the same wound again and again.

“What I meant, was that Rahash is the ship’s doctor. He should tend to this. Where is he anyway?” Kanan asks in a snippet tone, the newest crewmember having made a home under his tan skin. Something about the aloof, cold-tempered belugan just doesn’t sit right with him.

“I leave for 5 minutes and you destroy my med bay.” The belugan chastises indifferently from the doorway, steam rising languidly from the cup of tea in his hands. “Your med bay?” Kanan counters irritably, finding the word rather presumptuous. He glances at Hera who shakes her head. It’s not worth fighting over trivialities.

With a heavy sigh, the belugan sets down his tea before taking Hera’s place at the lasat’s bedside. He works unhurriedly with an indifferent disposition. “What do you think doctor?” Hera urges hopefully, eyeing the purple, furry being with a saddened expression. The poor man had already been through so much.

“I think his worst injuries aren’t physical.” Rahash says lazily, turning to his tea after checking the remaining bandages. “It’s to be expected that he’d be traumatized by what happened on his planet. We can work through that with him.” Kanan says confidently earning a mocking huff from the doctor.

“I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“Obviously.” The human shoots the belugan a pointed look, eyes burning with words unspoken for Hera’s sake. “Hera and I can manage that. We’ve both been through it, we can help him.”

Another huff leaves the belugan at the human’s words. “Ok, Rahash, thank you for your opinion. We’ll leave him in your care for now.” Hera commands firmly, not wanting yet another fight to break out in her med bay.

“Leave me your blaster.” Rahash says languidly, startling the two.

“If it wakes and lashes out again.” He clarifies, sounding far too at ease with the notion of shooting his patient.

Kanan forces himself to leave the room before he really does throw the man out the airlock. At first, the doctor had seemed to be an ok fit for the crew and Hera had her hopes set high for him. While other females were eager to start their own families, his lover was desperate to create a solid crew that could take on the Empire as a unified force to be reckoned with. And so Kanan had agreed to give the doctor a chance.

But after a while, the belugan’s true colors and disposition started becoming apparent, disappointing Hera greatly which only made Kanan despise him even more.

“Notify us when he shows signs of waking. Kanan will take it from there.” He hears Hera say curtly behind him. *******

Fire burns around him, closing in on all sides. Death and destruction surround him. Flames swell from windows of the homes and buildings of his city, billowing smoke while ashes dance on the wind. Screams pierce the air, their cries reverberating deep in his very bones. Calls for help assault his ears but his limbs are too heavy, he can’t move! Desperate to protect, he tries with all his might to run toward the palace where the royal family are calling his name!

The faster he tries to run the slower he goes until it feels like he’s caught in quick sand, keeping him pinned within the chaos of the burning city. He cries out in frustration, his fangs baring as he struggles against the invisible constraints. With a deep growl of pain, he watches the palace explode, the once pristine walls collapsing and crushing the poor lasat still inside.

“No!!!!” He growls angrily, stomach twisting with agony. A crowd of lasat rush toward him all wearing frantic, terrified expressions. “Help! They’re coming!” They chant desperately, running as fast as they can from the troopers marching after them. “No! Scatter! Get out of the way!!” He shouts, arms thrashing about as he urges them to take cover.

No one listens. Agonized shouts tear through his heart as he watches them slowly turn to ashes before him, begging for him to save them as they writhe. Tears stream down his face as he stares at their remains, ashes blowing with the wind. The troopers laugh as they surround him, weapons raising as they ready to take fire. A surge of terror and rage courses through his body, forcing him to spring to action and somehow, he breaks free from whatever invisible force had trapped him.

Eyes snapping open, he instantly jumps out of the way, trying desperately to escape that horrific death. A single human comes into his vision. Survival instincts urge him to act without hesitating and so he dives upon the lone soldier. After landing a few powerful blows, he’s taken aback when the human kicks him hard enough in the stomach to wind him.

“Easy now! I’m not going to hurt you! You’re safe!” The human says, holding his hands up placatingly while the rest of his body drops into a defensive stance. Nothing makes sense. Where is the city? Where are the other troopers? Where are the cries of the dying? Where is the fire?

His heart throbs wildly in his massive chest as he gasps for air, his green eyes frantically scanning the dimly lit room for the threat that he knows is there! “Easy big guy, it’s ok! It’s gonna be alright.” The human soothes cautiously, still bracing for an attack. His ears swivel instantly, catching the sound of a door sliding open and he pounces before looking. A stunned belugan comes into view as his arm swings downward but his fist somehow doesn’t collide.

His brows furrow together as his body is dragged backward by some invisible force that makes his stomach twist with terror. It’s just like his dream! He can’t move, can’t run, can’t escape! He tries desperately to break free, breath coming in heaving gasps as fear overcomes him. He can hear someone’s voice but can’t make out what they’re saying. All at once, the strength drains from his muscles and he sinks to the ground as his vision goes black.

“Why did you drug him?!” Kanan shouts, glaring at the doctor with unbridled anger. “He was attacking me.” Rahash snaps coldly, panic yet to settle. “I had it under control!” Kanan argues heatedly.
“That is what you call control?” The comment rubs the jedi the wrong way and it’s all he can do not to punch the man in the beak. Instead, he barks to help him get the lasat back on the med bed.
“What happened?” Hera asks urgently, watching the two struggle under the sleeping lasat’s weight.

“Big Guy here had a nightmare. He lashed out when he woke but I had him calming down until this one barged in and drugged him again!” Kanan snaps, giving the affronted belugan a reprimanding look. “It attacked me. I drugged him in self-defense.” Rahash reasons angrily. “IT?” Kanan snaps, eyebrows raising.

“OK that’s enough both of you!” Hera shouts, having had enough of the two’s bickering. “Rahash, look over the patient for any new injuries. Kanan, how many sedatives do we have left?” The men begrudgingly comply, going to opposite sides of the room.

“Not enough left for another dose.” Kanan states. “Next time he wakes, I’m going to have to calm the big guy down myself Without interference.” Hera nods, her nerves flaring at the idea. But she trusts Kanan’s abilities. If anyone can calm this hulking, berserk lasat, it’s him.

“What do you think doctor?” She asks, turning to the belugan.

“I think he’s damaged beyond repair.”

“What?!” Hera and Kanan say in unison, eyes widening. The doctor hadn’t said anything about massive physical injury! Kanan’s heart sinks as he remembers the powerful kick he’d struck to lasat’s stomach. Had he accidentally worsened some internal injury!?

“Mentally, emotionally. I think the trauma of what he’s been through has broken his mind. He’s stuck there.” Rahash says with a cold indifference as he looks with disdain at the lasat. “We should’ve left him there to die with his people.” He adds, unsettling his companions who stare at him in shock.

“His body will but it’s unlikely he’ll heal mentally. This monstrous brute will be a burden on society and all who are unlucky enough to cross paths with it. We should drop him back where we found him.” Rahash states uncaringly, turning on his heel and marching from the med bay.

The door slides shut, leaving the two in stunned silence.

A pitiful groaning whimper escapes the lasat on the bed whose head twitches side to side as if having a nightmare. Hera slowly approaches, watching his troubled expression with great sympathy. His brows furrow as he frowns and moans, looking like he’s in pain. Carefully, she pets the uninjured side of his head in a soothing, motherly way.

A sad smile pulls at her lips as the comforting gesture seems to soothe the lasat who stills after a few moments. “Rahash is wrong.” Kanan says firmly. “He’ll heal. He can get through this. I know it.”
She mulls over his words as she studies the sleeping lasat’s face, wondering if he really is damaged beyond repair. It’s true that Kanan had lost everything and eventually healed. But that took years. And he’s a jedi so that must have given him an advantage.

“Hera, I can feel it. The force led us to him, the only survivor left we could find! There’s a reason it brought us together.” Kanan urges, believing it fully. For years now, he’d been slowly opening himself up to the force under Hera’s encouragement. He’d spent so long pushing it away that at first, he was afraid to trust it again, almost like it’d seek revenge for being abandoned. But now it’s different. Now he knows he can rely on it.

“Ok. One more try. If he hurts you again though…Kanan…” Hera agrees, voice lowering with worry. She doesn’t want to hurt the injured and lost lasat. But she doesn’t want her lover to be hurt by him either. “I’m more worried about Rahash.” Kanan veers, glaring daggers at the door the doctor had disappeared behind.

Hera places a comforting hand on the lasat’s broad chest right over his heart, looking at him with intense sympathy before turning to the human. “On that, we can both agree.” The seriousness in her tone assures him that his captain is about to make a very important decision. *********

A soft rhythmic beeping urges him to consciousness. To find where that disturbance is coming from and how to stop it. Slowly his eyes begin to flutter open, a soft groan rumbling in his throat as he starts to stretch and move.

“Easy big guy, don’t wanna startle you.” A lowered male voice soothes, the sudden sound making his fur stand on end. Fear and anger fill his chest as his head snaps to the speaker, green eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“It’s ok, I just wanna talk.” The young human soothes, the odd motion of his hand catching Garazeb’s attention but he can feel his fury ebbing slowly, strangely.

“Where…Where’s ma borifle.” He slurs groggily, eyes snapping around to locate his prized weapon that’d become synonymous with his very life. “Your weapon is safe in the other room. We just didn’t want you accidentally hurting yourself or anyone else. You’ve been out of it for a while.”

“Cause ya keep druggin’ me!” His voice is deep and gruff, made even rougher from prolonged sleep and yelling.

“Cause you keep attacking us.” Kanan reasons with a touch of playfulness, showing he’s not harboring any hard feelings.

Garazeb tries to move but his limbs feel painfully heavy. “Just try to relax, ok? We’re trying to help you. Like I said, you’re safe now.” The strange movement of the human’s hand raises Garazeb’s suspicions. Is that some kind of signal to someone? And why is he feeling calm all the sudden? Is it the drugs messing with his head?

“Safe.” Garazeb huffs mockingly, knowing there isn’t anywhere safe for a lasat in the galaxy anymore. As far as he knows, the human’s trafficking him to sell to a slaver or as some kind of warrior in those death rings people bet on.

With great effort, Garazeb forces his muscles to work just enough to sit up.

“Lasan…it’s gone.” He states gruffly rather than asking, holding his breath as he waits for the human to confirm.

“I’m afraid so.” Kanan says sadly. To his credit, the brash looking young man does seem honestly sorry about it.

But he still doesn’t trust him. The human pours two cups of what looks like water and hands him one. He waits until the man drinks, watching him closely before taking a small sip himself. Tastes clean. No chemicals. Guess if they wanted to drug him they’d just use the sedatives they’ve been using. Unless they ran out.

“Why?” he demands shortly.

“Why what?”

“Why were you there? On Lasan. What were ye doin’?” Garazeb asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion as he watches the human’s expression closely, trying to determine what his real motives are.
“Looking for survivors. We found you and pulled you out before the Empire…”

“Before the Empire finished me off? Would’a been kinder to let them.” The dark words unsettle the jedi who feels a fresh wave of empathy for the lasat. He’d once harbored the same resentful death wish after losing his master. He’d uttered similar phrases during those days but in hindsight, he hadn’t truly wanted it. He’d just wanted to be free from the suffering.

“You don’t mean that.”

“How do you know what I mean?!” Garazeb’s temper flares dangerously as he turns to the human. He’s so tall and slim, he’s sure he can crush his spine with a single well-placed kick. What human can hold their own against a lasat?! Is that why they were wiped out?! Because they were too powerful to live?!

“I’m sorry.” The human says solemnly. Because he’s scared? He doesn’t smell the scent of fear. The human’s eyes are full of confidence yet softened at the moment, no fear present. Perhaps he really is sorry?

“Weren’t scavenging on Lasan?” His voice lowers menacingly, eyes narrowing at the human who slowly blinks and shakes his head. “Never been my gig!” He dismisses with an almost smug playfulness that’s both mildly irritating and amusing.

He eyes him closely, a feral sort of uncertainty in his gaze which is to be expected of someone whose home world had just been destroyed. “Anymore?” His gruff voice demands shortly.
“Water?” Kanan guesses at random.

“Survivors!” Garazeb snaps, his fangs flashing briefly along with his short and fiery temper. The human’s expression darkens slightly, confidence replaced by remorse.

“No. We searched as long as we could. It took a while to get you loaded up after we found you, at that time the Empire was almost on top of us.” The lasat’s ears fall as his gaze lowers to the floor, heart aching painfully with loss.

‘Am I the last of my kind?’ He holds the question in, not wanting to show any weakness in front of this stranger.

“We saw a few wookie ships leaving the atmosphere when we arrived. They might have rescued more survivors.” Kanan offers weakly after the lasat remains quiet.
Garazeb nods noncommittally but doesn’t dare try to hope. He’s lost everything. Even his hope.

“My name’s Kanan, by the way.” The human says in a friendly tone, a soft smile on his face. Garazeb meets his gaze and nods slowly, unable to smile. Probably won’t ever be able to smile again.

“Garazeb. Ma name’s Garazeb.”
*******

The landing gear groan and hiss as the Ghost touches down smoothly. Garazeb stares ahead at the metal wall of the cargo hold, feeling nothing. An emptiness had settled in his chest, almost like a black hole sucking everything in only to crush it within the void.

Light footsteps down the hallway perk his ears and he turns just a fraction to see his rescuers approach both wearing concerned expressions.

“Are you sure you want to be dropped off here? There are planets in this system that are actually hospitable.” Hera urges, almost pleads, her eyes full of distraught as she looks at him. Garazeb shakes his head firmly, wanting nothing more than the hostility of this dreaded, ruined city.

“No need.” He says shortly, having lost the desire to care for himself. After failing his planet, his people, he doesn’t deserve a nice life. Doesn’t even deserve to be alive.

“You sure you won’t stay? We’re down a crew member and could use an extra hand.” Kanan offers amiably for the millionth time. After parting ways with Rahash, they really could use the help! And even though he’s been short and closed off with them, he’s come to really like the lasat. There’s much more to him and he wants to help him through this.

“Sorry.” Garazeb grunts, unable to look them in the eyes. The young couple are kind and eager to help and it’s enticing to stay with them. But he can’t get attached again. Can’t risk failing them too. It’s best for him to just leave now.

A small hand rests gently on his massive bicep, squeezing his arm comfortingly. He sighs before meeting the twi’lek’s worried gaze.

“You know this planet is basically a death sentence, right?” Hera can’t help but say, praying that she can somehow change his stubborn mind. Her words are double edged, and it makes him feel guilty for all the trouble they’d gone through to save his life. Only for him to throw it away anyway. He sighs, that remorse paling pathetically to the crushing guilt he feels for failing his people.

“Thank you.” Zeb says gruffly instead, turning and lumbering down the landing ramp. “Garazeb! If you change your mind, you know how to contact us.” Kanan says loudly to the lasat’s back, nodding once as Garazeb nods over his shoulder.

He sighs sadly as the lasat walks down the darkening streets of the terrible city hosting the largest array of fighting rings in the outer rim. But he trusts the force. Trusts that Garazeb has to go through his own healing journey just like he’d done when he’d lost his master.

Hera sighs heavily, eyes shimmering with tears that she holds back. She feels painfully torn for leaving him here but it’d been his wish and she’d done all she could to convince him otherwise.

“I felt through the force that he’s our next specter. Trust me Hera, we’ll see him again.” He insists, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders as he leads her back into the ship.
*******

A heavy sigh escapes him as he watches the bartender pour another shot into the glass. The liquid is strong, pungent, and horrid to taste. It’s a punishment. And he takes it without grimacing, slamming the glass back down on the bar and staring with deadened eyes at the kel dor serving him. A gentle hand caresses his back as a rough looking theelin settles beside him with a seductive grin.

“If you win, we can have more of that together at my place.” She suggests coyly, squeezing her cleavage together with her arms as she licks her lip. Though she’s probably in her thirties, she looks much older from spice use and living in such an abominable city. But her face is still rather pretty and her mildly starved frame could distract him for a few hours.

Garazeb grunts and nods, knowing she won’t be able to break the all-consuming numbness within him. The void inside is like a parasite; an ever-present leech sucking all emotion and feeling from existence.

The fighting bell rings loudly above the roar of the belligerent crowd packed in the dingy building, signaling its time. Throwing back yet another shot, he stands to his full height, towering above the howling patrons demanding entertainment. “Don’t die.” The theelin requests coyly, winking at him as he lumbers toward the ring.

As the crowd parts for him, some cheering for his death, some cheering for his survival, he feels nothing. Large green eyes stare at the massive besalisk at the opposite side of the ring, cracking all four knuckles as he waits patiently. They lock eyes, both seeing the same desire for release reflected. Neither has anything to live for. Neither honestly wants to live.

‘Please kill me’. It’s the unspoken request between all opponents in this ring.

They crave death but they won’t go easily. Their survival instincts, at complete odds with their hearts, demand they fight with everything they have for the chance to live. It’s complex and bizarre and would confuse anyone who has something left to live for. But it’s Zeb’s reality. And there’s only one way to escape.

The bell rings again, signaling the start of the match. The crowd impatiently howls at them to get to it but they ignore the onlookers. It’s another unspoken reality between those who step into this ring. Time slows in the face of death and as both parties near what may be their last breathes, they savor each moment.

As they pace around one another, sizing each other up, Zeb wonders if this being is the blessed one that will finally take him down. Release him from the torment of living.

The crowd howls madly as they exchange blows, feeling their opponent out and searching for their weakness. The besalisk is powerful, its large muscular arms landing incredible hits that would crush a smaller being. A smile tugs at Zeb’s lips as he feels his rib crack, wondering if death is finally going to meet him. His fangs bare as he lashes in retaliation, making the besalisk stumble backward.

He’s not strong enough to defeat him.

The realization enrages Zeb, having felt the smallest glimmer of hope moments ago. Having allowed himself to hope that he’ll be released tonight. With a guttural cry, he dives on his opponent, thrashing and tearing madly at his body with unbridled fury. In a blind rage, he doesn’t hear the crowd’s cries, his focus solely on the opponent fighting for their life.

A debilitating punch sends the besalisk crumbling to the ground, eyes spinning as a smile pulls at his lips. Death is near.

Zeb pounces on the man, intoxicated with fury he punches again and again. He’s shouting and growling like a feral beast as he thrashes the man, seeing only Lasan and his people crying out for help as they disintegrate. He doesn’t notice the blood matting on the fur of his face, arms, and hands. Doesn’t feel the tears streaming down his face. Doesn’t hear the crowd beginning to unsettle, their
bloodthirst satisfied by the gruesome scene.

The energy in his body lessens and his punches slow until he’s left gasping for air straddling the remains of the besalisk beaten to a bloody, unrecognizable form. Warm blood drips from his hands, running in streams down his forearms.

Sickened by himself, he forces his body to stand as the crowd parts widely for him. Expressionless face covered in blood, he returns to the bar and throws back another shot while the theelin shrinks away, too terrified of him to make good on her deal.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing does. ************

Chapter 24: Losing Everything pt.2

Chapter Text

The stars outside the canopy blur into lines before becoming numerous dots across the galaxy as they exit hyperspace. The dismal red planet before her makes her stomach churn with dread. The place is terrible enough on its own, known as the planet ‘where lost souls go to die’. It’s bad enough she’d had to deliver a lost soul here months ago but returning to it with this mission is almost too much for her to handle.

She tries her best not to think about the hopeless, broken lasat with agonized, deadened eyes, her heart clenching at the memory of him. Over the years, she’d lost many colleagues, acquaintances, and friends but none in such a way. None of them had seemed to have died before death actually claimed them. She’d tried everything she could but he wouldn’t be dissuaded and so she’d hand delivered possibly the only lasat left in the galaxy to his imminent death.

Exhaling, she forces her mind to focus on the mission instead.

“Everything ok?” Kanan’s calm voice soothes her frazzled emotions. Looking over her shoulder, she watches as he takes his spot in the copilot’s chair. “Just thinking about the mission.” Hera half lies, not wanting to discuss the real reason for the tightness in her chest.

“Mn. It is pretty sickening that the Empire would use the planet to smuggle beings through the system. But usually, you’d be excited by the chance to take down such an operation.” He notes, reading her like the back of his hand.

They’d been partners for 3 years now, meaning there isn’t much they can hide from one another. She sighs as if deflating, brilliant green eyes lowering to the console without really seeing the buttons there.

“I’m worried what we’ll find…if…we find Garazeb.” She admits sadly. She knows full well the average life span of beings with a death wish in that city is only a few weeks, a month tops! And if he’s alive, what state would he be in?

“I have a feeling we’ll see him again.” Kanan says simply, knowing it’s not enough. “And…I have a good feeling about it.” He adds with a reassuring smile.

The droid plugged into the port chimes something begrudging in binary, pulling an eye roll from the jedi. “Yes, Chop, we Do want to see him again!”
*********

The setting sun casts long shadows down the winding alleys of the city, making it hard to see clearly. But lasat vision is exceptional, all their senses are. ‘Not their…mine’. The correction would have depressed him months ago. Now he only feels numb.

Numb not just to sadness but to everything. Pain, pleasure, fear, death. Nothing makes him feel anything anymore.

Despite that young couple’s attempts, Garazeb Orrellios, Captain of the High Honor Guard, died on Lasan along with his people. The lasat lumbering toward the fighting ring is already dead inside. He’s just waiting for his body to catch up.

The beings in the street scurry away from the massive lasat, having heard and seen what the man can do in the ring. He doesn’t care enough to make it clear he’d only take the life of empty beings willing to fight to the death, beings like him who are already dead inside. Or imperials. But they don’t come around these types of dangerous hell holes.

The high-pitched sound of a child’s cry snaps him from his dismal thoughts and his ears perk up to locate the source. ‘There shouldn’t be kits here. Not in this hell hole. It’s not safe!’ Worry pools in his belly, the first thing he’d felt in months. For a moment, he stands startled by the sudden feeling. Turning away from the fighting ring, he searches the alleys for the kit, following the muffled cries deep into the boisterous city.

Darkness shrouds the streets quickly as the sun sets, it’ll be another 3 hours before the moon will rise and offer its meager light but it’s no problem for him. Neither are the dangerous locals who slink into the shadows as he approaches. The sound is softer now but close.

“Keep it quiet!” A cold voice snaps harshly sounding a bit muffled as if the speaker is wearing a helmet. Peeking around a corner, Zeb spots the kit swaddled in a tattered old blanket in the arms of its terrified mother. His eyes grow wide, ears flattening down with hatred as he sees two storm troopers marching behind the woman, pushing her with their weapons. Fangs baring, he growls deeply as his fur rises with rage.

The woman obediently follows a line of anxious beings in binders into a decrepit looking building with the storm troopers in tow. ‘What in the world is going on here??’ The lasat has to know what the imps are doing with those beings. Why are they here? What are their intentions for those beings, that kit?

Deciding to chase answers instead of simply barging in the front door, he easily scales the side of the building using his sharp claws. Slipping over the side of the roof, he sneaks down the emergency ladder inside. Keeping to the shadows, he silently sneaks through the large building, taking in the many crates and containers. At first glance, it looks like an old storage facility. But the numerous storm troopers patrolling the exits and hallways suggest there’s more to it.

Hearing voices approaching, he ducks his massive frame behind a stack of supply crates. “Everything is on schedule, sir. Once the prisoners are properly secured, we can begin their transfer.” A proper and rigid-looking young human announces proudly in that annoying imperial accent.

“Very good lieutenant. See to it they arrive safely at the Experimental Unit. They need test subjects in good health.”

The fur on Zeb’s body raises as a growl rumbles deeply in his throat. They’re using these beings as test subjects in some scientific experiment!! Does the Empire have any respect or concern for any living beings in this galaxy?! Not only are they perfectly comfortable with destroying worlds that refuse to submit to their tyranny but they’ll kidnap families to experiment on them. Even kits! They won’t spare even the most innocent of beings that ought to be protected and nurtured!

His ears twitch as they pick up the soft sound of the small child sniffling across the room. This isn’t right! Someone has to stop these monsters! Someone has to stand up to them and protect those who can’t protect themselves! Rage boils under his fur, his vision going red with fury as his massive hands ball into fists.
************

Creeping behind a pillar closest to the large cargo container, Kanan draws his blaster and peeks around the corner. Four troopers snap at the bound hostages, brandishing their weapons as they coerce them into the container. ‘They’re transporting them but where to?’ The thought unsettles him and he rapidly tries to come up with a plan, knowing he has limited time to get the hostages out.

With all the troopers patrolling the walkways above and guarding the exits, he’ll need a distraction. He strokes his beard as he considers his options, hoping Hera is wrapping up her end of the plan. A terrified cry pulls him from his thoughts and he looks up in time to see a young officer catapulting toward him. He ducks as the imp’s body collides with the post he’s hiding behind. With a final huff, the man’s limp body collapses to the ground unmoving.

Eyes widen as he hears a feral roar across the building and sees a hulking lasat punching the commanding officer out cold. Storm troopers from around the building all turn to the lasat that looks to be on a murderous rampage.

Kanan’s mouth drops as he sees the lasat grab the unconscious commander by his leg and swing him at the oncoming troopers, using his body as a makeshift weapon! He can’t help the huff of an awed laugh that escapes his lips at the near comical yet mildly terrifying sight.

Not the distraction he’d had in mind but the one he needed!

Seizing the opportunity, he jumps from behind the pillar, blaster aimed at the two remaining troopers guarding the shaken hostages. “Hey guys!” He greets pleasantly as the men turn with confusion before he shoots them down. “Everyone, get to that exit and file into the alley outside. Wait for us there and we’ll get you to safety!” He commands quickly, directing them to the exit and providing cover fire.

After the hostages are secured outside, he turns his attention to the rampaging lasat reeking utter chaos through the building. The remaining troopers ignore the jedi completely as they try uselessly to take the powerful lasat down.

“Stop that monster!”

Kanan picks off a few shooters, pride and awe filling his chest as the lasat destroys a group of 6 troopers in two powerful blows. He’d heard stories of incredible feats of lasat strength but seeing it in person makes it all the more impressive! Garazeb truly is a marvel!

“Garazeb! This way!” He shouts, waving the snarling lasat toward him. But it seems he won’t be satisfied until he’s crushed the helmet of every last trooper in the facility.

Garazeb barrels into the last wave of troopers between he and Kanan, smashing helmets together and tossing the grown men as if they were rag dolls. “Garazeb come on!!” He urges, picking off the few troopers pinned to the walls as far from the lasat as they can get.

Looking around the facility with ears swiveling, he slowly realizes he’s run out of opponents. But his thirst for revenge isn’t even close to being slated! With a disappointed snarl, he submits and follows the human to the exit hoping there’ll be more Imps outside for him to smash.

Already leading the hostages down the street, Hera’s eyes widen as she turns back and sees the familiar lasat following Kanan. He’d made it after all! But why in the world is he here during their operation?! Kanan catches her eye and she can’t help but smile at the ‘I told you so’ look on his smug face.

Turning back to the duty at hand, she sneaks through the city alleys in near complete darkness as the small moon of the planet struggles to rise.

“Thanks for the help back there, Big Guy!” Kanan says amiably to the lasat at his side whose eyes narrow at the friendly nickname. “Don’ mention it.” He growls shortly. Borifle at the ready, he scans the alleys and rooftops above for any imperial presence as he escorts the hostages to wherever Hera is leading them.

“You know, the offer to join us still stands. We do this kinda stuff all the time and we could really use a hand taking out bucket heads.” The human’s words make his ears twitch upward, the offer thoroughly enticing. Every punch and blow he’d given to those troopers felt like justice for his people. After months of existing with crushing numbness, that justice breathed new life into him.
With a small grin, Kanan side eyes his companion as they turn the corner to the landing pad, seeing the lasat’s mind working things out.

Taking bites out of the Empire, leaving them limping with pain sounds wonderful. But doing it solo is probably best. After all, attachment is dangerous and he’s not ready to care about anyone, not sure he’ll ever be able to again! He’d lost everyone he’d ever known and loved and the agony had nearly killed him…had turned him into a mere shell of who he’d been.

Ignoring the grin the human shoots him, he watches the hostages file urgently onto the ship as he mulls over his options. He stands guard outside the Ghost’s landing ramp, keeping watch with his borifle at the ready until all the beings are safe inside the ship. Taking one last look over his shoulder at the kit in its mother’s arms, he turns and lumbers down the ramp.

“Garazeb! Where are you going?”

The twi’lek’s voice is soft, lovely, and full of concern making Garazeb’s ears lower. He doesn’t want to disappoint her again, but he also doesn’t want to get attached.

“Someone’s gotta destroy that place.” He growls, standing taller with a defiance and drive she’d not yet witnessed in him. It’s almost like the lost soul she’d left here had finally found a purpose to fulfill, a reason to fight. The thought brings a smile to her face, hope burning in her chest.

“That’s very noble of you. But I’ve already got it covered.” She says with a conspiratorial grin as the lasat turns to look at her with a quizzical expression. His ears twitch upward as he gazes at the detonation activator in her outstretched palm. “Care to do the honors?”

The warm smile she gives him brings a lopsided, toothy grin to his face as he takes the offered activator, pausing only a moment before firmly pressing the button. The city rumbles with the explosion as thick clouds of smoke rise above the decrepit buildings. The sight stirs the intense pain buried deep inside him, reminding him of Lasan. For a moment, it feels as if he were back there watching his world burn. The pain he’d dulled returns in fresh waves, demanding to be felt.

Only this time, it doesn’t leach his strength. This time, there is hope. This time, there is something he can do. He isn’t powerless anymore and he has a reason to keep going. Not for his own people. He’d failed them and nothing can fix that. But there are other beings in the galaxy being oppressed and threatened by the Empire. Other worlds that can be saved and families to be spared. He stares at the awful city, tears in his eyes and a newfound purpose throbbing in his heart.

“Let’s go.” Hera says gently, a small hand resting on his massive shoulder. With a determined nod, he turns and follows her onto the ship. He’ll risk attachment if it allows him to fulfill his purpose, if it allows him to hurt the Empire. ********

Large green eyes stare blankly at the bunk above him, idly counting the bolts securing it in place. After confirming the bolts numbers, he looks around the dimly lit nearly barren room with an odd feeling in his chest. His room. It still doesn’t feel quite real.

He hadn’t wanted to form any attachment with the young couple but they’ve grown on him over the last few weeks. Both are supportive and kind in their own ways, giving him as much space as he desires between missions. His lips curl upward as he thinks of their last blow against the Empire.

The void he’d harbored in his chest is still present only smaller in size, taking less and less every day and allowing him to feel things other than crushing numbness. He’d even smiled last night as he and Kanan had a drink together in the common area. The bold young man really does have some funny stories!

But nothing makes him feel more joy, more complete, more fulfilled, than busting bucket heads and landing blows against the Empire. Every Imp he takes down chips away at the tyrannical system’s armor. Every small victory over the Empire fills Garazeb with a happiness he’d never thought he’d feel again.

His smile dampens, wishing they were on their way to another mission. Why had he listened to Hera? He could’ve said ‘no’ when she’d asked if he wanted to return to Lasan, see it for himself, ‘face his demons’ as she’d put it. She’d made a good point that perhaps he’d find something of sentimental value, a family holo or something of the like. The idea is tempting but his stomach knots painfully at the idea of returning.

What will he see? How will it affect him? Will the crushing numbness consume him once more? A shiver runs through his body at the memory of who he’d become and what he’d done after Lasan. He’s not a broken shell anymore. He’d fought fang and claw to become a ghost of himself, of who he used to be. He doesn’t want to lose progress and relapse. He’s not sure he’d be able to come back from that dreaded state a second time.

Unable to tolerate the silence and solitude of his room any longer, he lumbers into the hallway toward the common area.

“Mwaap mwaaaap mwap mwap!” The astromech grumbles irritably, smacking his metal arm sharply against the lasat’s shin without warning. “AH!!! What was that for?!” He growls angrily, glaring at the chuckling droid as it zips down the hall toward the safety of the co*ckpit.

“Yeah, pretty sure you’re permanently on Chop’s bad side, Big Guy.” Kanan says with a smile as the lasat settles on the opposite side of the couch, rubbing his shin and glaring down the hall. “Yeah, well I’m sure he’s permanently on my bad side.”

A low chuckle escapes the young human before he takes a sip of his drink. Playful expression turning serious, Kanan looks the newest member over as he chooses his words.

“You’re nervous.”

Garazeb’s ear swivels before he turns to look at the human, eyes narrowing a fraction. There’s something about the young human that he can’t quite pin down. Some odd sense of deep wisdom or unnatural knowing. It’s not the first time Kanan had seemed privy to Garazeb’s unspoken feelings. Lasat are very expressive beings but he hadn’t displayed anything but irritation toward the belligerent droid.

As if reading his mind, Kanan smiles amiably, head co*cking slightly to the side as he shrugs. Perhaps he’s been showing his nerves over the last day or two? Or perhaps the human is a bit more intelligent than he’d given him credit for. They are still getting to know one another after all. Garazeb sighs heavily, bringing his gaze to the dejark table instead.

“Yeah well…last time I left there I turned into a monster. I jus’…I’m just worried what it’ll do to me now.” The admission feels strange and his fur ruffles with discomfort. He’d never been one to speak openly about feelings, finding the vulnerability unsettling. But for some reason, he likes talking with Kanan. Like he’s safe ground.

“Valid concerns. But this time, you’re not alone Big Guy.” The sentiment is touching yet Garazeb can’t help the doubts creeping around it. Would the couple really want to keep him around if he became that murderous beast once more? Would they have the patience for him to work through it or would they kick him out, drop him off at another fighting ring? How can they help him if they don’t understand what he’s going through?

“I actually know what it’s like to lose everything.” Kanan lets the admission sink in before continuing. The lasat’s green eyes swivel toward him, a cautious disbelief in them. Is that why he feels such kinship with the human? They’ve both experienced debilitating loss? The sincerity in Kanan’s eyes makes his heart both warm with compassion and ache with understanding.

“I don’t like the person I became but I had to process the loss my way. After a while, after I met Hera, I started to feel like I was living again not just surviving. There was a point when the pain resurfaced for me, almost overwhelming me. I was tempted into habits and thought patterns I’d developed early on. But Hera helped me to stay true to who I wanted to be, who I really was. She helped me work through it and if you’d let us, we’d like to help you with that part too.”

Garazeb’s eyes widen as they meet Kanan’s, fear slowly ebbing as a warmth spreads through his chest. Not only do they understand the overwhelming agony of loss and the pain of healing but they want to help him through it. It’s an ugly road yet they’re willing to walk it with him. They owe him nothing! They don’t have to do any of this!

But as he’s seen, they’re good people with the rarest kind of hearts in the galaxy. Truly these two are worth fighting for! They’re willing to suffer with him and so he’ll reciprocate. He’ll fight by their sides and have their backs no matter what happens! Unwavering loyalty is all he has to offer.

He nods slowly, green eyes glistening with emotion.

“Welcome to the family, Garazeb.” Kanan says warmly with a broad smile on his handsome face. Clearing his throat, the lasat looks down to the ground, to the human, then back again.
“Zeb.” He says quickly, ears twitching.

“Hm?” Kanan hums confusedly. Is he speaking the native language of Lasan? Is that some important or sentimental lasat term?

“Ma name…You can call me Zeb.” He clarifies, feeling an odd fluttering in his stomach. No one other than his family and closest friends had ever called him that. These two are the closest thing to family he now has and he’s already come to view them as such so they might as well call him that as well.

“Zeb…hm…I like it.” Hera muses from the doorway, smiling encouragingly at their newest member. The air between the group is heavy with sentiment until Zeb exhales deeply, unable to entertain it any longer. He sits up taller, a nervous yet determined look on his face as he turns to the captain.

“We here?” Zeb asks gruffly, looking anxious which makes Hera’s heart clench. It was her idea to come back here after all! “We are.” Her voice is as soothing and caring as her expression.

“You can go slow, Zeb. We’re in no rush so take as much time as you need.” She adds, resting a small hand on his giant shoulder and giving it a squeeze. ********

His eyes narrow as he looks out on his ruined home world, thick layers of ash covering the ground as far as the eye can see. Thick dark clouds of airborne debris shield the planet from its suns upsetting its weather cycles and assuring nothing will grow for many lifetimes. Taking a deep breath, he steps out upon Lasan, disrupting ashes with each footfall. The question of whether it’s plant or lasat ashes causing a dismal feeling to settle in his stomach.

‘Better than the numbness.’

From the ramp, Hera watches as her friend lumbers through the ruins of the city her eyes tearing up with the destruction. ‘It must have been beautiful once’ she thinks sadly. Now the charred and broken buildings are all collapsed, the lands covered in soot painting the planet in a dreary grey. Mind roaming to Ryloth, her heart aching with fear that her home world might end up like this one day. She shakes her head, pushing the thought away.

Taking deep breaths like Kanan had shown him to keep his emotions steady, Zeb pauses outside his family’s home. Heart aching with agony, he stares at the collapsed roof, the family tree outside charred and barren. Swallowing hard, he forces his legs to bring him to the front door which he pries open with ease. Memories flood his mind as he looks around the familiar rooms and hallways bringing tears to his eyes that fall without his knowing.

The massive lasat ducks under fallen roof supports to enter his parents’ room, choking slightly at the burnt remains of the furniture. Every spot he looks for family treasures yields only charred bits of what once held sentiment. A shaking breath overcomes him as his vision blurs with pain. Is the ashla that cruel that it’d take all his loved ones as well as everything that could remind him of them! It’s as if the Empire not only killed them but wiped away all evidence they’d ever existed!

Closing his eyes tightly, he focuses on his breath as Kanan’s voice reminds him to. After regaining control, he moves to his cousin’s rooms then on to the common area. Nothing. All of it is gone. Everything he can think of that’d mean anything to him is destroyed.

His stomach twists with dread as he forces himself toward his precious Gran’s room, pausing outside to steady his breaking heart. Of all his family members, she was the one closest and dearest to him.
‘Please…please be kind to me. Please let there be Something left!’ He begs with eyes closed tightly shut, praying to a force he barely believes in out of desperation.

Slowly he opens his eyes, cautiously looking around the room until he finds it. The only thing seemingly untouched by the purge! He blinks a few times, unable to believe it hadn’t been harmed! Cautiously he crosses the room and gently runs his claws against it with great care as if afraid it might blow away at any moment.

A relieved huff of an exhale escapes through his smile, eyes tearing up as a frail hope warms his chest. ******

“He’s been gone a long time. Should we go after him?” Hera asks worriedly from the spot where she sits on the ramp. “You were the one who told him to take his time.” Kanan chides easily, arms crossed as he leans against the side of the Ghost.

“I know but…”

“But you’re worried. I know. He’ll be ok Hera.” He assures while nursing his own worries.

“mwap mwrrap mwwaap.” Chopper chatters in a snippet tone, shifting his weight side to side with unmistakable sass. “No, Chop, we’re not leaving him here!” Hera snaps firmly, shooting a reprimanding look to her feisty droid.

The wind picks up, carrying a flurry of ash that clouds their vision. Kanan squints through the murky atmosphere at a large form approaching from the ruins of the city. As the lasat draws closer his eyes widen as he sees the large chair he’s carrying, not the kind of ‘souvenir’ he’d expected him to return with.

Zeb’s ears twitch up and down as he looks around almost timidly, holding the twisted wooden chair with great care. “It…it was my Gran’s. It was all…all that was left.” He admits in a sheepish tone under the surprised expressions of the young couple. Clearly, they’d not expected him to come back with furniture. He hadn’t either to be honest but there wasn’t a family holo, picture, or book that had survived.

Recovering quickly, Hera stands with a warm expression on her face as she smiles at the lasat. “I think I know the perfect spot for it.” Zeb’s ears raise, a thankful smile tugging at his lips as he follows the couple back into the Ghost, grateful for their support.

After agreeing that Hera had indeed found the perfect spot where it fit like a glove, Kanan helps Zeb bolt the precious chair to the common area floor beside the couch.

“Gran passed a few years ago but this…we kept it polished for her. Lasat are…were…matriarchal. Gran was an important part of the family, the backbone really.” Zeb muses as he looks at the precious chair, remembering when he’d sit in her lap in that very spot while she’d tell him stories passed down for generations.

“And now she’s part of the Ghost…just like you.” Hera says gently. Her words loosen something within him, his eyes glistening with emotion as he processes it.

Belonging…it’d never been a problem on Lasan where everyone belonged to the community, to friends, to family. Even those who’d lost their family members were typically adopted into a household. Neighbors would invite them to their nightly family dinners and welcome them into their homes. He’d never felt alone on Lasan.

Outside of his home planet, he had been a wandering mess. A single insignificant lasat without a home, family, or kin. But now he belongs. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude spreads through his chest making his throat tighten with emotion.

Seeing his large shoulders shaking, Hera places her hand on it to comfort him.

With shocking speed for such a hulking being, he quickly turns and wraps his massive furry arms around the small twi’lek who jolts with surprise before melting into the embrace. She rubs circles on his back as he buries his face against her. Kanan exchanges a knowing smile with his lover before looking at the lasat with sympathy.

As dangerous and brutish as the man can be and despite the gruff and brusque disposition he puts on, Zeb certainly is a big softy, full of love and desperate for affection.
Slowly, his breathing evens out once more and he bashfully releases her.

“S…sorry ‘bout that.” Zeb mumbles, clearing his throat as he turns slightly away to hide the embarrassment on his face.

“Don’t be. I’m always here for you Zeb.” Hera says gently, her small hand squeezing his arm above the elbow. “We both are.” Kanan adds with a reassuring smile in his tone.

Head still lowered a fraction, Zeb turns slightly toward the couple, their warm understanding expressions soothing his unease. Acceptance, support, belonging. Never did he think he’d feel such things again. And yet here he is, receiving it in abundance from these two extraordinary beings.

His new family.