Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“All my days are spent,
All my cards are dealt,
Oh, the desolation grows” 

          -Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Fort Atlantic

 |-o-| Chapter 1 |-o-|

With every minute Kallus spent on the Ghost, he felt something inside of him relax, unclench. He still couldn’t believe his own luck that he’d managed to escape Thrawn’s Star Destroyer, let alone actually get picked up while his escape pod floated dangerously among the space battle between Imperial and Rebellion forces. How many stray shots had come dangerously close to ending him?

Now he stood refuge on the very ship he’d spent a portion of his Imperial career hunting. So far much of the crew had yet to acknowledge his presence. Hera, the captain, had nodded as she passed by on her way to the airlock. Zeb had been close behind her, and he didn’t nod so much as trip a bit as he walked by, and then given a feeble wave before seemingly questioning whether he should, turning the wave into a rub of his own neck as he ducked into the common room 

Kallus failed to stifle a small rush of disappointment as the Lasat proceeded to the other room, where he angled his back towards the hallway that Kallus was occupying with three other refugees from the battle on Atollon.

Kanan passed by going the other way, walking through the ship as if he could still see just as well as everyone else on board. When the former ISB agent hailed him, he didn’t even look startled or surprised.

“Thank you, for taking me in,” Kallus managed, though his throat felt mildly like it was trying to close up. He realized suddenly this was only the second time he had seen the blind Jedi without the mask on since his sight was taken from him. The first time had been when Kallus had revealed himself as Fulcrum. Now, just as then, it felt like the foggy eyes were looking right into Kallus’ soul.

Kanan reached out a hand, placing it gently on the shoulder of the black Imperial uniform Kallus was still wearing. “Thank you... for risking everything.” His voice was even and earnest, and he gave a congenial squeeze before withdrawing his hand and proceeding on through the automatic doors. 

They whooshed back closed behind Kallus’ shoulder, and the sound drew Zeb’s gaze. Those huge green orbs meeting with Kallus’ golden brown eyes. The look lasted just a couple seconds longer than one would expect before the Lasat seemed to remember he was meant to be paying attention to the conversation taking place before him.

Kallus stifled a small chuckle, then looked away to give the Spectres their rightful privacy. Instead, he refocused his mind on processing everything that had happened to him that day.

He thought fleetingly of the fact he’d left all his belongings behind, likely to be entered as evidence of some kind into Imperial archives. Only two possessions caused a particularly sharp pang of loss: his Lasat bo-rifle and the small glowing meteorite from the ice moon Bahryn where he had been stranded once with Zeb.

If Kallus was honest, the meteorite was the more important of the two items to him. He had planned on one day returning it to Zeb. A gesture that would first and foremost show that Kallus had been thinking of his encounter on Bahryn since it had happened, but also perhaps act as a token for the fact that Zeb was, in reality, massively crucial in the chain of events that led Kallus to become Fulcrum and eventually defect to the Rebellion.

Now the warm rock would end up in some file crate somewhere, it’s warmth lost to the Empire like so many things.

 “How you holding up?” 

Kallus started, he’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the meeting in the other room fizzle to an end, or Zeb breaking off from his crewmates and coming to check on him.

“I’m alive, which is one step better than I honestly thought I would be a few hours ago,” Kallus answered, nervously swiping away the tuft of hair that had escaped his slicked-back hair do and fallen into his face again.

Zeb’s ears drooped, a flash of something that looked like anger mixed with concern flickering across his face. “Has anyone checked you over yet?” he asked, eyes sweeping over Kallus’ black eye, busted lip and down to the laceration on his neck. “Lotta good it does escaping if you bleed out in the hallway.”

“There were others in greater need than myself,” Kallus answered, dropping his eyes away, folding his arms over himself defensively.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say something like that,” Zeb said, coming forward and sliding an arm around Kallus’ shoulders. “C’mon.”

He couldn’t have refused if he’d wanted to, the Lasat’s grip across his shoulders was firm as he steered them through the common room, past where Sabine appeared to be in a serious conversation with Hera, and into the hall that housed the crews’ private quarters.

The moment they stepped into the compartment, Kallus knew it was Zeb’s purely based on the smell. Despite his attempts to prevent it, after all his interactions with the Lasat, he’d memorized the scent that clung to his then-adversary’s fur.

“You can get out of that imp suit now,” Zeb said, over his shoulder as he stooped to get a med kit from one of the compartments under the bottom bunk.

Blushing slightly, Kallus began to shed the uniform that had been his only allowed clothing for so long, loosening the fasteners to his cuirass to remove it then setting about unbuttoning his tightly fitted black shirt. He was strangely comfortable doing so in front of Zeb. It would have been more difficult disrobing in front of some Rebellion medic.

“Karabast, they worked you over good before you got out,” Zeb’s voice made Kallus turn.

He was shirtless now, dark purple bruising splotched across his chest and sides. There was a chance he had bruised ribs, he was confident the pain would be worse if any were broken. 

“Courtesy of Grand Admiral Thrawn and his death troopers,” Kallus said, shrugging. 

“I swear, if I’m ever alone with that guy,” Zeb growled. “Here, sit down.” He pats the spot next to him on the edge of the bottom bunk, and Kallus complied, trying to ignore the strange fluttering nervousness building in his gut.

The Lasat began by tending to the black eye, forcing Kallus to hold his breath as Zeb’s face hovered so close to his. The injured man had no idea where to look as this occurred, so he found himself rolling his eyes up to look at the ceiling. 

“How’d you get caught anyway?” Zeb asked as he turned to retrieve a butterfly bacta bandage from the kit. “Your warning transmission was cut off, but we got the warning anyway.”

Kallus let out a ragged sigh. They thought he’d been trying to warn them about the attack on Atollon, none of them knew that wasn’t the case. His attempted warning caused the attack on Atollon. How were they ever to accept him once they knew?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” the Lasat asked. “Didn’t hurt ya did I?”

Kallus’ anguish must have shown on his face because some of it was being reflected in Zeb’s. 

“It’s not that,” Kallus said, then choked on his next word as the Lasat moved a hand down to his bare chest to check the bruising. The touch was surprisingly gentle, especially as Zeb began smoothing a balm over the dark splotches to help them heal. 

Zeb was highly expressive. When Kallus didn’t continue, the Lasat’s ears wilted and his eyes crinkled with concern. He kept looking up from his work to Kallus’ face. 

“Then what is it?” Zeb asked, swirling a clawed finger to indicate he needed Kallus to turn so that he could reach the bruising on the former Agent’s back. 

“The transmission,” Kallus began, turning as requested. “It wasn’t intended to warn you that Thrawn knew where the base was. Thrawn didn’t know your location until I sent that transmission.” He let out a shoulder sagging sigh with the admission, relieved he didn’t have to look at Zeb as he said it.

“What do you mean?” 

Another sigh, as Kallus felt the cooling comfort of the salve being spread across his back. “I was attempting to warn the rebellion that Thrawn was aware of the planned attack on the factories of Lothal,” he explained. “Thrawn followed me, blocked most of the message, and then utilized the trajectory to triangulate the base’s location. It’s... it’s my fault. Today was my fault.”

The hand on his back froze. “No it isn’t,” Zeb said gruffly. 

“Of course it is. After all I did to conceal its location I handed over the last clue Thrawn needed because I was sloppy,” Kallus said. Why didn’t I realize I was being followed? I could have cost us everything.”

A soft growl filled his ears, and for a moment he was confused as to where it came from. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and sent his stomach back into flutters. 

“Kal, look at me.”

Kal?!? he thought confusedly but did as he was told. 

“This wasn’t your fault,” Zeb said, his eyes boring into Kallus’. “Thrawn got the upper hand. It was bound to happen eventually. The man’s ruthless. He even scares Hera. Nobody scares Hera. Sure we took a hit, but it wasn’t a total loss because we got your warning.”

Kallus didn’t know what to say, he blinked and then let his eyes fall away from the Lasat’s face. 

“How bad is your leg?” Zeb asked. “Don’t think I didn’t catch the limp.”

“Well, it’s never been quite the same since Bahryn,” Kallus admitted. “But Thrawn got in a lucky kick.”

Another defensive growl from the Lasat. “Pants, off.”

Kallus nearly choked on his own tongue. He knew now was a really inopportune moment to realize that on some level he was attracted to Zeb. Between the gruff tone of his voice as he’d said it, and just what he’d demanded, the former ISB agent had to reign himself in from being turned on. 

Kallus stood with his back to the bunk as he slid off the straight black trousers. After this he was down to just his boxer briefs, feeling completely exposed in front of the Lasat. Kallus couldn’t tell if Zeb was angry at him along with the Chiss who had caused his injuries, so he stayed quiet while his leg was examined. 

“Your knee is dislocated,” Zeb said, after a while. “Putting it back in line is going to hurt.”

Kallus sighed. “What’s a little more pain today, I suppose.”

Zeb seemed to soften, the scowl in his face lessening. “I’ll give you something for pain after,” he said. “Have you seen this painting Sabine did.”

Kallus followed where the furry raised arm was pointing, and after a moment looking at the graffiti art, which appeared to depict Ezra Bridger falling from his bunk onto Zeb, a zing of searing pain shot through Kallus’ leg. It seemed the painting had been a distraction for the Lasat to jam the injured knee back into place. 

Kallus let out a strangled cry, falling back into the bunk. 

“Karabast, I’m sorry,” Zeb said, hands raised as he backed away. “I find not knowing when it’s coming helps.”

“It’s alright, had to be done,” Kallus said through pained breaths. He sat back up and gingerly moved his knee, it did move easier. 

Zeb fished out a bottle of pain pills from the med kit. “These’ll probably knock you out for a bit,” he said, tossing the bottle to his patient. “So you might as well get comfortable.”

Kallus was hesitant to lay down in what was clearly the Lasat’s bunk, but when Zeb returned with a blanket, he had little choice. He poured two tablets into his palm and swallowed them back before surrendering the bottle. Then he pulled his legs up into the bunk, and Zeb surprised him by unfurling the blanket and covering them for him. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you made it out safe,” the Lasat said, as he stowed the med supplies again. “I was… upset when you decided not to get out when Ezra tried to rescue you.”

There was a strange tone to it, a softness Kallus has never heard before. “Well, I’m here now,” Kallus said. “And I’m glad to see you. I... I’ve missed you since Bahryn.”

The medicine was quickly taking effect, Kallus couldn’t even believe he’d said that. He sank deeper into the bunk, scrunching his eyes closed to hide the look of surprise on the purple features of Zeb’s face. 

“Get some sleep, Kal,” he said. 

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” Kallus asked, tugging the blankets tighter around himself. 

“Got some crew business to take care of,” Zeb answered. “So if you wake up and I’m not, know that I’ll be back.”

|-o-|

Zeb waited until Kallus was asleep, those golden eyes he’d used to hate drifting close. The man was definitely a bit worse for wear, but he was here in one piece, which was better than Zeb had expected. The last time he’d seen Kallus in person had been on the ice moon, a place the Lasat wasn’t sure the imperial would escape once left behind.

When Zeb had started getting reports back from his fellow Spectres that not only was Kallus alive, but also helping his friends to escape, Zeb had been surprised.

But also hopeful.

Zeb had come to see more in Kallus after their time on Bahryn, but to see his words had actually swayed the ISB agent meant a lot more to Zeb than he could have anticipated.

And now the man was here, with the Rebellion, in the Lasat’s bunk.

Zeb realized he’d been watching Kallus sleep for a bit longer than perhaps he should have been, so he left, closing the cabin doors behind him.

Ezra was coming down the hall, looking only mildly worse for wear considering the events of the day 

“There you are, Hera’s been looking for you,” the young Jedi said. “I’m going to catch some sleep before the first drop out of hyperspace since it looks like I’m heading to Mandalore with Sabine.”

“I’ll go find her,” Zeb said. “Oh, and Kallus is asleep in my bunk, but don’t worry you won’t wake him.”

“Why’s he in there?” Ezra asked, stopping short of the cabin doors with a look that seemed to mingle surprise with disgust. 

“Had to put his knee back in line. Thrawn did a number on him before he got out,” Zeb explained. “The pain pills knocked him out so I figured I’d leave him be, and you should, too.”

Ezra shrugged. “Alright, alright,” he said. “I’m just going to be sleeping anyway.”

Then the young Jedi disappeared into their shared quarters. Zeb trudged down the hall. He didn’t meet anyone as he went, most of the refugee rebels had moved elsewhere now. He wasn’t sure where, perhaps the cargo hold. Zeb hoped there was a new base to go to, a new home to settle into. Otherwise, the Ghost was going to be crowded for a while.

Then again, if Ezra was going off to Mandalore, Kallus could easily share Zeb’s quarters with him.

The Lasat froze, blinking in surprise at his own thoughts. What was it about Kallus, a man whom Zeb had every right to hate, that instead, he trusted? He’d given the man his own bed, patched him up even tucked him in.

“Karabast, I’m losing it,” he chastised himself, before pushing forward.

Kanan and Hera were sitting together at the Dejarik table in the common area. They weren’t quite touching, but Kanan’s arm was stretched along the back of the orange curved bench, and the amount of space between them was minimal.

Zeb admired their restraint, after the close call that was Atollan he imagined they both were immensely relieved their significant other had made it through. He hoped he wasn’t keeping them from retiring to Hera’s cabin for some alone time.

“What a day,” Zeb said, sinking down onto one of the stools.

Kanan let out a huff of a laugh. “Tell me about it,” he said.

“Where’s Sabine?” Zeb asked. “Feel like I barely saw her. She gone already?" 

“She’s in her cabin packing up some things,” Hera answered. “Her mother has asked for assistance to free her husband from imperial custody.”

“Yeah, Ezra said he was going to Mandalore,” Zeb said. “That go for all of us?”

The couple exchanged looks, Hera sitting up from Kanan’s arm to lean over the game table. “Ezra and Kanan are going with Sabine, but we were wondering how you’d feel about staying with me instead?" 

“You mean to get the Ghost and all the rebels on board to Rebel Command?” Zeb asked. “Where is that, anyway?”

“Yavin-4,” Hera answered. “We’re making no less than three hyperspace jumps along the way, the others will disembark for Mandalore after one of those before we reach the Yavin system.”

Zeb was quiet for a moment, thinking. It was unusual for him to sit a mission out, and even more uncommon for the Spectres to literally go two different directions. Part of him wanted to point out that Hera and Rex could probably handle the move to the new base without him, but... Zeb glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the cabins.

“I know you’d probably prefer to go where the action is,” Kanan said. “And I’m sure you’d be an asset to us on Mandalore, but I’d be more comfortable if someone stayed with Hera.”

“Oh, what? I can’t handle myself?” Hera asked, but her tone was light and her question punctuated by a playful elbow jab to the Jedi’s side. She tossed a lek over her shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest in one of her classic moves.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” Zeb said immediately distracting both of them from their play fighting. “You’re right. Usually, I’d prefer the action, but we can’t leave Hera to corral all these extra people.”

Kanan had his mask off, which unfortunately allowed the Lasat to see the skeptical eyebrow raise. “Are you concerned about all the extra people, or a specific one?”

Karabast.

“You better not be pulling any Jedi mind reading tricks again,” Zeb said, taking his turn to cross his arms over his chest.

“Who?” Hera asked, perking up, her green eyes sliding from Zeb to Kanan. “Agent Kallus?”

“Not sure ‘Agent’ applies anymore,” Zeb replied, unsure why he was feeling so defensive.

“Where is our imperial friend now?” Kanan asked. “He thanked me for picking him up, and then I lost track of him.”

Zeb glared at the blind Jedi. Something told the Lasat that his friend knew precisely where Kallus was and just wanted to hear Zeb say it.

“I patched him up and gave him something for pain,” Zeb said. “And now he’s asleep in my bunk— oh shut it, you.” Kanan had not made it to the end of Zeb’s explanation before leaning in to whisper something conspiratorially to Hera.

Hera laughed, brushing Kanan off. “Ignore him, I think it’s nice,” Hera said. “You were, after all, the one who recruited him.”

“Accidentally!” Zeb crowed defensively.

“I don’t know about that,” Hera said, her lips curving into a soft smile. “So... you want to come with me to help Kallus settle into the rebellion?”

“Something like that I guess. I mean, I did recruit him, and someone may need to vouch for him,” Zeb said.

“Then I’m glad you can,” Kanan said. “All jokes aside, Zeb. You saved him from more than just freezing on a moon. You know that right?”

“Yeah,” Zeb said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do.”

Hera and Kanan retired after that, both patting him on the shoulder as they passed. Zeb didn’t turn all the way, just angled his head just enough to watch the couple as they slid arms around each other. Kanan planted a kiss on Hera’s forehead before they activated the doors to her compartment and disappeared inside.

Zeb felt an ache in his chest he couldn’t identify.

Chapter Text

“Every inch revealed,
As my heart is pierced,
Oh, my soul is now exposed.”

        - Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Fort Atlantic

|-o-| Chapter 2 |-o-|

Kallus blinked. The world around him was swimming and spinning. Where am I? he wondered.

“I’m going to need you to wake up and pay attention,” came a curt and familiar voice.

Thrawn? No, but I escaped... Kallus eyes came into focus to find he was still on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Chimaera, wrists in binders. It was a dream, a glorious hallucination that he was on the Ghost with Zeb. He should have known better. I’m still not free.

Inside, the agent was crumbling. He’d had foolish hopes that were coming apart.

“Why don’t you just kill me?” Kallus snapped, wilting in the grip of the troopers holding him up 

“Much too kind,” Thrawn said. “No, Agent Kallus, you are my guest of honor. I want you to have a front row seat to your friends’ destruction.”

As if on cue the Ghost flew across the field of vision beyond the bridge’s viewport, and Kallus was sure he saw someone distinctly purple and furry in one of the gunner domes. Kallus couldn’t breathe, watching as the ship wove in and out of the ensuing battle.

“Activate tractor beam,” Thrawn commanded. “Target the Ghost.”

The soft hum of the tractor beam warming up crescendoed and the Corellian freighter slowed and then stopped as the battle raged on around them.

“You’re bringing them in?” Kallus asked, incredulously.

“Don’t be foolish,” Thrawn said, giving the captive agent a smile that struck fear throughout him. “Fire at will.”

“No!” Kallus gasped, fighting against the troopers holding him. 

There was nothing he could do, as proton torpedoes ripped through the Ghost, blowing it to bits, and everyone on board along with it.

“Nooooo!!!”

Kallus sat upright in the bunk, confused and panicking. He clasped a hand to his bare chest, breathing hard.

“What? What is it?”

Zeb had been sitting slumped over at the small work table, clearly asleep before Kallus had woken him with a start.

“S-sorry,” Kallus breathed, only just realizing it had been a dream and he hadn’t been back with Thrawn at all. “Nightmare.”

He pulled himself up to sit in the bunk, trying to let his breathing even out. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

“S’okay, you’re safe,” Zeb said, rising from his seat to come to sit at the edge of the bunk.  

“To be quite honest, I’m more relieved to see you safe,” Kallus said. “I was back on the Chimaera and Thrawn made me watch as he blew the Ghost to bits.” He shuddered, pulling his knees up to his chest under the blanket.

Zeb, however, laughed. “To think there was a time you’d have been happy to see this ship destroyed,” he said, grinning. “Now it qualifies as a nightmare.”

Kallus had to give it to him, he was right. “Well, a lot of things have changed since Bahryn,” Kallus said, with a small smile. “Thanks... to you...”

Zeb’s eyes went wide, and then he looked away for a moment making Kallus think he’d said too much. The last thing he wanted was to push the Lasat away, in fact, he very much wanted the opposite.

“Yeah, well, you changed how I see some things on that ice moon, too,” Zeb said. 

Kallus perked up. “Really? How so?”

“Realized not everyone in the Empire’s a bad person,” Zeb said, turning his eyes back to meet Kallus’. “That some are good people, with good intentions, who’ve been fooled into thinking that the Empire is doing what’s right.”

“Until some trusting, noble Lasat comes along and pushes just the right way,” Kallus said. “You got me to ask myself the questions I was afraid to ask. Thank you.”

“S’nothing,” Zeb said, swallowing down a small lump forming in his throat. “You hungry? You’ve been asleep a while. We’ve dropped out of hyperspace twice, buncha the crew have already split off, but before he went Kanan left some clothing for you. So you don’t have to put back on that wretched uniform.”

“Now that you mention it, I could eat,” Kallus said, taking Zeb’s proffered hand to help him up from the bunk. “Perhaps a shower first, before putting on clean clothes.”

|-o-|

Zeb deposited Kallus at the refresher with a towel and the fresh clothing before heading to the galley to make them something to eat. He could have given the former imperial a rations bar easily, but Zeb had a feeling that was all Kallus had likely been eating for ages.

So Zeb set about making some waffles and brewing a pot of caf.

“Smells good in here,” Hera said, stepping into the galley, a DataPad in hand. “Making enough for two?”

“Three, actually,” Zeb said. “Kallus will be joining us.”

Hera didn’t comment, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw her eyebrows peak curiously as she poured herself some caf. She sat at the dining table, continuing to peruse whatever was on her DataPad while Zeb cooked waffles.

“How long are we expecting the others to be off on Mandalorian business?” Zeb asked, sliding the first plate of completed waffles in front of Hera.

“Likely weeks. Between recon, planning and actually enacting whatever plan,” Hera answered with a sigh. “But it was the right thing to do, they did come to our aid.”

“They saved our asses,” Zeb agreed, pouring batter into the waffle press and closing it.

“Doesn’t make it any easier being without Kanan,” Hera said, quietly.

“They’ll be back before you know it,” Zeb assured her. “Besides, we’ll be busy settling in.”

Hera sat up a little straighter. “That’s true,” she said, finally beginning it eat her waffles. “There’ll be no shortage of things to do.”

Kallus stepped tentatively into the room, his golden hair still wet from the shower. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Hera said, and Zeb could have hugged her for how fast she slid over at the table. “Join us.”

Zeb already had a plate of waffles ready, which he sat in front of the former imperial. “Caf?”

“Yes, thank you, Garazeb,” Kallus said, gazing down at the plate in surprise. “You meant real food.”

Hera laughed. “Zeb prefers to cook if we have the supplies,” she said. 

“Well, I get tired of ration bars,” Zeb said, providing Kallus with a ThermaJug of hot caf.

“I haven’t had real food in months,” Kallus said, digging eagerly into the waffles.

Hera and Zeb exchanged looks. It wasn’t necessarily surprising, feeding giant starships full of people with anything more complicated than rations would be difficult. Neither commented; instead, Zeb prepared his own food and caf before joining them at the table.

The Lasat eyed Kallus as he ate, took in how tight Kanan’s old green shirt was across the former agent’s muscled chest. There was no denying the man was in good shape. Zeb had been too concerned about the injuries to appreciate it when the former imperial had been shirtless in his bunk.

Now Zeb had to force himself to stop looking. Instead, he turned to Hera who had been watching him with an amused look on her face.

“How far are we from Rebel Command?” Zeb asked, dropping his eyes to his waffles.

“Not far now,” she answered. “A couple hours. They’re aware we’re coming, but the debrief will probably still be tedious. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Zeb asked. Hera shook her head in response. “You should nap after you’ve eaten, I’ll keep an eye on things.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but seemed to think better of it, nodding again.

“Out of curiosity, how intense of a debrief and interrogation will I be facing when we arrive?” Kallus asked, going from eating his waffles to rearranging them on his plate.

“I couldn’t say for sure,” Hera answered. “But I’ll be there and so will Zeb. We’ll tell them all you did. How many times you saved our people. How many good leads you gave us.”

Kallus nodded. “Thank you.” Then silence fell again. Eventually, Hera excused herself to go attempt that nap. Zeb cleaned up the dishes and then pulled the former imperial from his thoughts by asking if he’d like to go to the cockpit.

Zeb slid into Hera’s usual seat, checking a few things. The viewport was full of the intense blue swirls of hyperspace. 

“After the ice moon,” Zeb said, breaking the silence. “After you’d decided to become Fulcrum, did you ever think you’d make it here?”

“No,” Kallus answered, now seated himself in the co-pilot’s chair. “But I’m glad I did." 

“Yeah, me too.”

|-o-|

Zeb paced the hallway, resisting the urge to attempt to listen at the door. The debriefing/interrogation had been going on for hours, and Zeb had yet to be called in to make a statement. Hera had gone in and been in for a long while now. He trusted her to have Kallus’ back, but the longer time dragged, the more worried the Lasat became. 

And hungry. He was also hungry. So despite concern they’d call him in the moment he stepped away, Zeb went to fetch a ration bar from the Ghost. On impulse, he grabbed an extra before returning.

“There you are,” Hera said, as Zeb reached the hall he’d spent most of the day waiting in.

“Yeah, sorry, needed to use the ‘fresher and eat something,” Zeb said, looking past her to where. Kallus was now sitting on the bench looking both mentally and physically exhausted.

“When you weren’t here they decided to finally take a recess,” Hera answered Zeb’s unvoiced question. “Do you mind waiting with him so I can visit the refresher myself?”

“Yeah, you go,” Zeb said, his gaze never leaving Kallus though the human hadn’t once looked up at him.

Hera nudged the Lasat’s shoulder to get him to look her in the eye. With a pointed look, she managed to convey a lot about her worry over how this debrief was going and her concern with how Kallus was holding up through it.

Zeb nodded and shooed her off before sinking down to sit on the bench next to the former ISB agent.

“How’re you holding up?” Zeb asked. He received a noncommittal sound that was half sigh and half grunt. “Very eloquent.”

That earned him a muted chuckle from the human, who was usually very eloquent.

“Here, got ya something to eat,” Zeb said, offering up the extra ration bar. “You’ve been in there for hours.”

“I’m not hungry,” Kallus said, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, biceps straining the borrowed green shirt he was wearing.

“Don’t make me force feed it to you,” Zeb said, with a soft growl. “I know they’re putting ya through the wringer, but you need to eat.”

Kallus finally looked up, his golden eyes looked tired and searching as if trying to discern if this was genuine concern for his well being. Which, Zeb was just as surprised to discover, it was.

“Thanks,” Kallus said, at last, taking the bar and tearing it open. Zeb sat and watched as he tore a piece off with his bare fingers and popped it into his mouth.

“They haven’t put you in a cell or under armed guard,” Zeb said, leaning back, shoulders relaxing now that the human next to him was eating. “That’s got to be a good sign.”

Kallus shrugged, swallowing down a mouth full of the bar. “They did ask Captain Syndulla to watch me,” he said. “And then she made sure you were watching before she left, so...”

“I’m here to make sure you eat,” Zeb said. “I know you’re not going anywhere. You didn’t come this far to run away on us.”

“Thank you, Garazeb,” Kallus mumbled, his shoulders sagging, the tension going out of them as he leaned slightly on the Lasat’s shoulder to finish eating his ration bar.

Zeb found he didn’t mind at all. Hera turned back up with a jug of water, which Kallus did not resist as it was pushed into his hand.

“You ready?” Hera asked, pulling Zeb up by his forearm and hauling him a few feet from Kallus. “They’re not pulling any punches in there.”

“I figured,” Zeb said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kallus was quiet, but I could tell. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Draven’s been insufferable,” Hera said, with a sigh, rubbing her own shoulder. “We had to go over the events that led to his capture and escape what feels like a hundred times. And Kallus has already given his account of the events on that Geonosian moon, and Draven’s expecting your accounts to not match up.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Zeb asked, lowering his voice even further as members of Rebel command were returning now, filing back into the room behind the door.

“Did he really save you from a giant creature of some kind?” Hera asked.

“Yeah, he had a choice between walking away with everything he needed, or saving me,” Zeb said.

Hera’s expression softened, perhaps as a response to the earnestness in Zeb’s voice. “Why’d you never fully tell us?”

“That’s... complicated,” Zeb said. 

“Well, it better get less complicated. Fast,” Hera said before stepping away.

Zeb let out a sigh, watching as Hera took the now empty jug back from Kallus and then herded him back into the room with her.

Kallus glanced over his shoulder to Zeb, their eyes meeting for a moment, concern shown in the gaze. The Lasat tried to give what he hoped was a reassuring smile before looking away.

Mon Mothma had come for Zeb, her hands clasped behind her back, her robe like gown flowing in her wake. “Mr. Orrelios, are you ready?” she asked.

Zeb nodded, and she led the way into what was a sizable briefing room. Most of the maps and monitors were off at the moment, and the members of the high command were scattered among them, some sitting, others standing.

Kallus was sat along the round central holo-projector. He was gazing determinedly at the floor as Zeb was shown to a seat not far from him. Zeb recognized some faces among the onlookers, such as General Dodonna, but many were new people the Lasat had not had the chance to meet yet.

“I am General Draven,” a frowning, rough looking human said stepping forward. His face was stubbly, and he was donning all earth tones. Zeb was a terrible judge of human age, but he was certain this man was older than Kanan. Then again so was Kallus, but the Lasat wasn’t sure by how much. “Could you state your full name for the record.”

“Captain Garazeb Orrelios,” Zeb answered. “Of Phoenix Squadron’s Ghost team.”

“And how long have you been with the Rebellion?” 

“A few years,” Zeb answered, clearing his throat. “I’ve been on Hera— I mean Captain Syndulla’s crew for at least seven years, though for a large portion of that I was unaware of the larger rebellion.”

Draven nodded, turning dramatically. “And could you identify the person sitting to your left?”

Zeb had to try hard not to roll his eyes. Was this a trial? Then he realized he didn’t actually know Kallus’ first name 

“That is former ISB Agent Kallus,” Zeb said, turning to see Kallus shift in his seat. “Code name: Fulcrum.”

Draven scoffed, clearly not wanting the prestigious code name associated with the man before him. 

“Could you detail your interactions with Agent Kallus prior to him taking on the mantel of Fulcrum?”

The Lasat was not liking this line of questioning, he was quite sure all of the Ghost crews run-ins with the Empire were already documented. The only purpose of this was to remind the assembled, and Zeb, of Kallus’ previous transgressions.

“Couldn’t tell you more detail than I’m sure Captain Syndulla already gave you,” Zeb answered, after weighing his possible options. “Several run-ins as he and his team were focused around the Lothal Rebels, which was us.”

He glanced to Hera, who had a small, proud smile on her face.

Draven just stared for a minute, as if willing Zeb to say more. The Lasat simply stared right back until the next question was voiced.

“Very well. Could you tell us about the ‘run-in’ that led to you and the Agent crash landing on the Geonosian moon Bahryn?”

There it was: the real reason he was there.

“We, as in the Ghost team, went to Geonosis to investigate an unusually large orbital construction site around the planet,” Zeb began. “When we got there we found out via scans that the planet was now devoid of life when there should have been millions of Geonosians. So to investigate we docked on what we thought to be an abandoned imperial construction module.”

“Only it wasn’t abandoned, was it?” Draven interjected. 

Zeb had decided he didn’t like this general and he definitely didn’t need to be led through this story. He was about to say as much, but a glance in Kallus’ direction stilled the Lasat’s temper. The former imperial looked tired and nervous, and Zeb didn’t want to make things worse for him.

“No, imps were waiting for us,” Zeb confirmed. “A trap. During the scuffle, I was separated from my team as they fled. I told them to go because I was going to use an escape pod to get off the construction module.”

“Unfortunately you didn’t make it,” Draven said, more to the onlookers than anyone else.

Zeb was unable to prevent his own eye roll and was pleased when he realized Kallus had seen, their eyes meeting as for the first time that since Zeb had entered the room. The human gave a slight grin to the Lasat.

“Actually I did, I just wasn’t alone. The then Agent had pursued me all the way into the pod where our fight continued. Neither of us realized the damage we were doing to the pod itself until it was too late. In the end, the pod’s trajectory shifted away from the planet and instead we crashed on one of Geonosis’ moons. Kallus was injured in the crash. I was not.”

“Why, at that time, did you not incapacitate the ISB agent?” Draven asked.

“Because I don’t attack unarmed, already injured people,” Zeb growled. “I don’t work for the Empire.”

This seemed to shut Draven up, but the Lasat was sure it wouldn’t last long.

“Anyway, I had bigger problems: such as the sub-freezing temperatures and the broken pod transponder. If we had any hope of not freezing to death that is,” Zeb pressed on. “Plus we discovered we were sharing the cave we’d crashed into with a couple rather large creatures intent on eating us. We had to work together to survive.”

“According to Kallus’ testimony, you had to carry him out of the crash site?”

Zeb nodded. “Once I got the transponder working he pointed out that the signal was unlikely to make it through the layer of ice overhead. Coupling that with the fact that the beasts were sure to return-”

“Return? What drove them off to begin with?” Draven asked sharply.

“We’d driven the first of them away with fire from our bo-rifles,” Zeb answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Together.”

“And at no point did the Agent attempt to fire at you?” Mon Mothma had piped up, her voice gentle.

“Not once, and he had more than one opportunity,” Zeb said.

Murmurs broke out amongst the onlookers. Some looked skeptical, but many were looking swayed.

“In fact, in the last leg of the climb, I wouldnt’ve made it if he hadn’t given me the cover fire. He could’ve left me to be eaten,” Zeb said. “But, even when he was with the Empire, Kallus had more honor than that.”

The whispers turned to full-on talking, and Zeb, feeling eyes on him, turned to meet Kallus’ steady gaze. There was respect and gratefulness reflected in those golden eyes, and perhaps even a twinge of disbelief.

Draven was clearly still unconvinced, quieting the conversations. “None of this explains how you turned him to our side,” he barked. “Are we supposed to believe you all worked together to survive, and it just changed him?”

“It didn’t change him ‘cause he didn’t need changing,” Zeb growled. “The man thought he was on the right side. He thought what he was doing was for the right cause. When we made it to the surface, found ourselves somewhere to huddle for warmth, we got to talking. I told him to follow the questions to answers. I listened to him. We talked. We ended up coming to understand each other as people. That’s why when my crew turned up I let him stay behind.”

“You should have taken him into custody!”

“If I’d done that we would have never had a Fulcrum spy on the inside, and three of my crew might’ve been captured on separate occasions where Kallus was able to get them out.” Zeb was now standing face to face with Draven. “I get why it’s hard to trust an imp defector, but this one’s proven himself over months of Intel and assistance for the Phoenix Squadron.”

For a moment the Lasat and the man stared each other down until Mon Mothma stepped forward once more.

“Thank you, Captain Orrelios, for that impassioned testimony,” she said. “If you wouldn’t mind escorting Mr. Kallus outside so that we may deliberate.”

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 3 |-o-|

“In the ocean’s deep,
In the canyon’s steep, 
Walls of granite here I stand.
All my desperate calls,
Echo off the walls
Back & forth, then back again.”

        - Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Fort Atlantic

Kallus rose on knees that felt like jelly. He had never expected Zeb to speak so vehemently on his behalf. It had taken the former imperial’s breath away.

“You alright?” Zeb asked, once they were in the hall, the door closed behind them. “That Draven guy is an asshole.”

Kallus laughed, lowering himself down on the bench to wait. “You held your own better than I. Mind you, I was afraid of being too abrasive when I’m the one being judged,” he said, then he realized Zeb was staring at him. “What?”

“The only other time I’ve heard you laugh was when I was falling off walls in that ice cave,” Zeb said, with a lopsided grin. “You should do it more, it’s nice.”

Kallus felt warmth rising in his cheeks. He cleared his throat and chose his words carefully. “Well, provided I’m not moments from censure, I’m sure you’ll have plenty more chances to make me laugh.”

“I hope so.”

Zeb was smiling broadly now, and it was only making the blush rising on Kallus’ cheeks worse. He couldn't help but wonder what they looked like should someone pass by. A human and a Lasat simply looking and smiling at each other as if there was nothing, and no one, else in the galaxy.

“While we wait, I suppose I should take this opportunity to thank you,” Kallus said, brushing back his hair, which without product had become quite unruly by his own standards. “I don’t know what I’ve done to earn your loyalty but—”

“You don’t know what you’ve — Kal, seriously?” It was Zeb’s turn to laugh as he once again used a shortened version of Kallus’ name as if he’d done it a million times already. “You’ve saved the majority of my crew at one point or another.”

“A minor recompense for all I’ve done to your crew through the years,” Kallus said, with a sigh. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d wanted to stay far from me.”

“Well, that’s not what I want, so...” They tapered off to silence for a moment, Zeb sitting down next to him again, nudging the human with his shoulder gently, clearly still mindful of the injuries Kallus had sustained in his escape. “Something occurred to me in there though. Don’t know your first name. Now, I don’t mind calling you Kal, but thought it wouldn’t hurt to know your name.”

“Oh, it’s Alexsandr,” Kallus said, clearing his throat, gazing down at his own hands. “But I don’t mind you calling me Kal either. Can’t remember the last time anyone gave me a nickname.”

Zeb had a soft smile on his face, he scratched his facial hair and looked about to say something when the door opened.

Both men looked around to see Mon Mothma emerging. Kallus had expected a much longer deliberation, so he was surprised when she spoke.

“We’re ready for you to come back in, Mr. Kallus,” she said. “Mr. Orrelios you’re also welcome to—”

She was cut off as General Draven all but elbowed his way past her in the doorway. He looked disgruntled, shooting Kallus a scathing look before stalking away down the hall.

It took a moment for Mon Mothma to regain her composure. “As I was saying, gentlemen, you can come back in now.”

Hera was smiling as they entered, and Kallus relaxed. She waved Zeb over to stand with her as the former ISB agent was once again herded to stand before all the assembled members of Rebel High Command.

“Alexsandr Kallus,” Mon Mothma began, “I would like to formally welcome you to the Rebel Alliance, and after much debriefing, and deliberation, we have decided to grant you the ranking of Commander.”

“C-commander,” Kallus stammered. “Surely you can’t be serious.”

To think he’d spent most of the day wondering if he’d be locked in a cell by nightfall.

“Oh I’m always serious, Commander,” Mon Mothma said, extending a hand to shake his. “Welcome aboard.”

The other rebel officers were queuing up, shaking his hand on their way out.

“Welcome, Commander Kallus.”

“An honor to have you aboard, Commander.”

Hera and Zeb hung back. The Lasat looked as surprised as Kallus felt, but the smile on his purple lips was more welcoming than a thousand handshakes.

|-o-|

Zeb was elbow deep in wires, working on repairing a component in one of the old Y-Wings that had recently broken down on base and sweating in the afternoon heat to boot. He had thought Atollan was warm, but it was nothing compared to Yavin IV. At least he was beneath the ship, shadowed from the sun.

He’d just paused to wipe sweat from his brow when Hera snuck up on him.

“Hey, Zeb, got a second?”

Zeb startled, straightening up only to bang his head on the undercarriage with a resounding clang. “Karabast, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Thought you’d hear me coming,” Hera said, stifling a laugh. She rose up on her toes to check the top of his head. “I think you’ll survive.”

Ducking out from under the bird, Zeb wiped his hands with a rag. “Gonna take me longer than I figured to get this one running,” he started, but Hera waved him off. 

“Not here about the Y-Wing,” she said, lekku swaying as she shook her head. “Was just wondering when the last time you’d talked to Kallus was.”

They’d been on Yavin for a couple weeks now, and despite Zeb’s inexorable urge to check on the man constantly he’d convinced himself to give the former agent his space to settle in. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t seen him. The Lasat had made a point to flag down and greet Kallus whenever their paths crossed naturally around the base.

Zeb just hadn’t gone looking for him. Now that he thought about it, it had been a few days since he’d last seen him.

“Three, maybe four days ago,” Zeb said, tossing the rag down. “Ran into him outside one of those briefing rooms in the main temple. Why do you ask?”

“How did he look? Okay?”

Actually, he was looking excellent in a new jacket and with his hair loose for once, Zeb thought.

“Tired, maybe? I didn’t check that closely.”

Hera was frowning, clearly trying to decide if she should say more.

“Hera, what is it?”

“Just… something Rex said about him looking sick. That maybe he wasn’t sleeping? I don’t know I haven’t seen him myself. Didn’t know if you wanted to—”

Zeb was already securing his work site, putting his tools back into the box, a knot forming in his stomach.

  Stupid, stupid, idiot. Shoulda been checking on him all along.

“I’ll find him,” Zeb said, scooting past Hera without giving her a chance to say more. “Thanks, Hera.”

He tried the intelligence offices first, knowing Kallus had been issued a desk there. It took a while to locate it as the hulking Lasat waded through little cubicles filled with humans hunched over DataPads, or leaned close with others in whispered conversations. A few shot him dubious, suspicious looks which he ignored as he looked around for Kallus’ golden topped head.

In the end, Zeb found the cubicle, but it was empty. Kallus’ desk was neat and tidy, as he expected it would be. Clearly, everything had a place, and nothing was left out that shouldn’t be. The only thing the Lasat suspected was not regulation was that on the desk nameplate beside the name “A. Kallus” was scratched the Fulcrum symbol.

Zeb picked it up, grinning as he ran his thumb over the etching.

Renewed in his want to find the man, Zeb set down the nameplate and left the offices. It was nearly dinner time, so he decided to try the mess hall next. He tried not to worry that he may not find him. Rebel command had granted Kallus on-base quarters, but Zeb wasn’t sure where and thought it would be a bad idea for him to go door to door.

The mess hall was only just starting to get busy, Zeb was shuffling in among a flow of people headed for dinner, none of whom were the man he was looking for. Not to mention a quick scan of the tables where people were already eating was also a bust.

Zeb sighed and was about to turn to leave when he spotted Rex at a table with Wedge and Hobby.

“Zeb!” Rex greeted as the Lasat approached. “Join us, why don’t you?”

“Thanks, but I’m actually just in here looking for Commander Kallus,” Zeb said. “Seen him around?”

“Oh, you won’t find him in here,” Wedge said, and there was something about the kid's tone that served to solidify the knot in Zeb’s stomach.

“Why’s that?”

The two young pilots exchanged a look as if exchanging a silent question. Hobby’s mouth was full of some kind of leafy food, but he was nodding.

“Look, maybe it’s not my business,” Wedge said. “But seeing as I might not be here if Kallus hadn’t helped us escape — well, let’s just say the rumor is that Kallus never stops working. Not long enough to eat, barely long enough to sleep. Last time I saw him, he looked skinnier.”

“I was just saying something to Hera about this,” Rex said. “I guess that’s why you’re looking for him, eh?”

“But he wasn’t in his office,” Zeb said, “if he’s always working then where—” he broke off, remembering the file storage area down the hall from all those conference rooms. That’s why he’d run into him there that day.

Zeb was gone before any of the others could say another word, elbowing people entering the hall out of the way as he went.

He didn’t slow until he approached the door, which was propped open. Inside he could hear someone moving around and, once close enough, he saw that it was indeed Kallus shifting around boxes of flimsi.

Kallus hadn’t heard he had a visitor, allowing Zeb a moment to look. Kallus had taken off his jacket, and without it, Zeb could see just how much thinner he was. The tan shirt that had fit snugly when they’d arrived, and Kallus had traded out borrowed clothes for something properly fit, now hung off of him oddly. 

He did look sick, but the realization was settling heavily on Zeb. Kallus wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping.

Kallus was making himself sick.

Zeb inhaled a deep breath, stepping into the doorway.

“Knock. Knock.”

Kallus straightened up, surprised. “Zeb,” he said, his voice clipped, stressed. He looked sideways to where his jacket was hanging. “What… what are you doing here?”

“Hadn’t run into you in a couple days,” Zeb said, trying to keep it casual, calm. “Wanted to see how yeh were doing.”

“Fine. Fine. Just working on getting this place organized.”

He snatched his jacket up and slid it on before properly turning to look at Zeb. He was hiding his weight loss from the Lasat, but it did nothing to conceal the bags under his eyes or the pallor of his skin.

For a moment, Zeb struggled to figure out what to say. 'You look tired’ seemed like an ineffectual statement of fact, and this didn’t seem like a conversation to be had in this closet of a room packed with file cabinets and flimsi. Who even used flimsi anymore?

He needed to get Kallus out, away from work. More importantly, he needed to get him to eat something.

“Well, I just figured I’d come by, see if you wanted to go to dinner with me,” Zeb said, he could see Kallus’ whole mood seem to lift, “in the mess hall,” and then promptly come crashing right back down.

“Oh, um,” Kallus said, looking around to his boxes. “Usually, I would say yes, but I had a big lunch, and this project is important.”

“You’re lying.” Zeb was unable to keep the growl out of his voice, as he knew based on what the others had said there was no way Kallus had eaten a big lunch. Or lunch at all. “You’re just going to stand here and lie to me?”

Zeb felt his anger rising, and decided it would be smart to remove himself instead of letting it overflow, he made it to the door before it hit him that Kallus was trying to protect him. He was ashamed and wanted to hide what he was doing to himself from the Lasat.

He had also done absolutely nothing to stop Zeb from storming off.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Zeb asked, slumping against the frame of the door, his back still to Kallus. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Are you trying to kill yourself? Is that what you want?”

There was no answer, and then Zeb heard the sniffle. When he turned, Kallus was sinking down onto one of the boxes, his face in his hands, clearly crying. 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Zeb came forward, all thoughts of anger lost completely.

“Garazeb, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied,” Kallus murmured into his own hands. “I just knew you would worry, and you’ve already done enough for me. I…”

His words faltered as Zeb had fallen to his knees in front of the man and pulled him into a hug. Zeb wasn’t much for hugging usually, but thanks to his found family he’d become accustomed and grateful for the occasional use of a friendly squeeze to lift spirits. And if anyone needed their spirits lifted, it was clearly Kallus.

“I was already worried,” Zeb said. “Look, you don’t have to prove anything here. You don’t have to work yourself to literal death to make up for anything. You look like hell, Kal.”

Kallus laughed, and Zeb pulled back, bringing his hands to hunched shoulders. 

“I don’t have an explanation,” Kallus said, looking up to him from eyes heavily hooded due to tiredness, and moist from the tears he was attempting to swipe away.

“Well, You gotta eat, so come on,” Zeb said, rising again and holding out a hand. 

Kallus looked apprehensively at it. “Can we go eat on the Ghost?”

“Nope, all we’ve got left on the Ghost is ration bars, which I’m calling insufficient for this situation,” Zeb said. “It’s the mess or nothing. And nothing is no longer an option from you unless you want to be skin and bones.”

“And you’re going with me?”

“I said I came to ask you to eat dinner with me, didn’t I?”

“May I get myself cleaned up first?”

Zeb felt a part of the knot in his stomach unclench as Kallus took his hand, allowing himself to be hauled up onto his feet.

“Of course.”

|-o-|

Kallus tried not to take too long as he raked a brush through his unkempt hair and blotted at his eyes to cease looking like he’d cried his eyes out. Zeb was waiting just outside his quarters for him, and he didn’t want to keep the Lasat waiting too long.

Now that he was looking at himself in the mirror, he did look like hell. He hadn’t fully realized until he’d seen the sheer concern on Zeb’s face when he’d been looking at him. Kallus had no idea why the Lasat cared what happened to him, but right now it was filling him with a very welcome warmth.

Kallus liked Zeb very much. Each time he saw the Lasat only served to make him realize just how much. Enough that it scared Kallus.

He knew the affection could not ever be returned. Their history too dark and murky. But maybe, just maybe, they could scrounge a friendship out from the mud.

“You okay in there?” Zeb called through the door. “You better not be trying to back out because I’m not afraid to break down this door and drag you out.”

Kallus couldn’t help but smile at that, ceasing the examination of his own face and leaving. Zeb was leaned up against a wall in the hall, looking relieved.

“We both know you’re capable of carrying me, so I think I’ll save myself the embarrassment.” 

It was Zeb’s turn to laugh, as they set out across the base to the mess hall. Expecting further interrogation, Kallus kept quiet, but his fellow seemed to sense this, breaking the silence with a new topic instead.

“So how’s work been going? Settling in at the spy division alright?”

“It’s been a little slow going. I think the head of intelligence hasn’t warmed to me,” Kallus said. “Giving me menial jobs, like organizing all that flimsi. Not exactly glamorous work.”

“It’ll get better,” Zeb said. “Once they realize what an asset you could be if they let you.”

“We shall see. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can where they allow me to.”

“That’s the rebel spirit,” Zeb said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

There Zeb was, again saying nice things that flooded Kallus with the sensation of fluttering Mynocks. He could feel the warmth of blush rising in his cheeks and was grateful they were approaching the mess hall to keep Zeb from looking too closely at his face and noticing. Though the place also awoke a touch of dread in Kallus.

What he hadn’t shared with the Lasat was that he had actually tried, twice, to come to eat meals in the mess hall on his own and it had gone poorly. He’d always known his transition from ISB agent to spy to full-on rebel wouldn’t be smooth, but he hadn’t entirely been prepared for just how many people on base wouldn’t want him there.

In hindsight, Draven’s behavior at his debrief should have been a clue.

It was easier to face with Zeb so close by his side that their elbows kept brushing. There were still looks being given, sideways glances, but Kallus focused on Zeb who was pondering aloud what he wanted to eat from the cafeteria-style line they were slowly making their way through.

“You should try that stuff, with the red sauce. It’s spicy but tasty,” he was saying, oblivious to the animosity around the pair aimed squarely at Kallus. 

Next thing Kallus realized, Zeb was ordering for him,  plates were being loaded with larger than average meals for both the Lasat and himself. He started to argue when Zeb fixed him with a look.

“When was the last time you ate a full meal?” All of the former imperial’s objections died in his throat. “That’s what I thought. Now let's find us a table.”

Zeb was easily balancing the full tray on the palm of one hand while using his other to steer Kallus into the sea of tables, clearly sensing the hesitation. Once he found an empty one, he plopped down the tray, pulled out a chair and all but pushed Kallus down to sit.

Now that the food was in front of him, smelling far better than cafeteria food had any right to smell, he realized just how hungry he was. He nabbed the roll and tore into it with his teeth. 

Zeb was looking pleased with himself. He took a moment to watch the man eat before digging into his own meal. 

They ate in companionable silence, the din of the mess hall seemed to fade to the background as if it was really just only them. Kallus reveled in it, feeling content for the first time since that breakfast he’d eaten on the Ghost right after he’d escaped. 

He tried the dish Zeb had been raving about in line, which was a stewed vegetable thing with red sauce doled generously over it. He hummed, swallowing down the first bite. 

“You were right, this is tasty,” he said, scooping up more to eat. 

“Look, boys, the Agent’s got himself a friend.”

Kallus closed his eyes and let out a groan. He turned his head just enough to see them, the group of young rebels settling in at a nearby table. 

“Surprised anyone on this base would give that slimy worm the time of day, let alone share a meal with him.”

They were talking as if he wasn’t within earshot, and Kallus did as he had done the last time, ignored them. Zeb, on the other hand, wasn’t going to let this fly. He rose up from the table, showing just how tall and looming he actually was.

But it was when he growled the group really took notice. Kallus took notice too, only in a very different way. His core flooded with heat, seeming to thrum along with the tenor of the growl. It was meant to induce fear, but to Kallus, it was the opposite, and as the group of men all looked stricken all Kallus wanted to do was hug Zeb again.

They were able to eat the rest of their meal in peace. 

Later, as Zeb walked him back towards his quarters, he found himself walking very close to the Lasat. They didn’t discuss the hecklers, or much of anything really. Now that he had a full belly for the first time in days, the exhaustion was really hitting him. 

“Gonna get some sleep tonight, I bet,” Zeb said, grinning as he shot Kallus a sideways look. All Kallus could do was nod. “Good. Same time tomorrow?”

“What?”

Kallus was confused, as they made the turn down the hall his quarters resided on. Zeb looked amused, walking languidly alongside him, that alien gait becoming all the more familiar to the human.

“As fun as it sounds, I can’t be hanging around ya all day to make sure you eat,” he said. “But if we eat dinner together I can at least know you are eating ONE meal a day. So what do you say? Dinner tomorrow? And the day after? Hell, let's just say every evening we’re both on world?”

The blush was rising on Kallus cheeks again, he could feel its warmth licking along the line of his jaw. The notion was thrilling, even if he knew this was not anything romantic. 

“I suppose I can acquiesce to that.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” Zeb said, his grin sliding. “Look I’m just trying to be your friend if you don’t want—”

“Wait, I do,” Kallus said, a little too vehemently as he reached out to stop the Lasat from walking away. “What I mean to say, is I want that, too. Thank you, Garazeb.”

They stood for a moment, staring at each other, Kallus hand still on Zeb’s forearm, enjoying the feel of fur beneath his fingers. The fact Zeb wasn’t immediately pulling his arm away was surprising, but not unwelcome. In fact, he brought his own hand up, touching Kallus’ forearm and giving him a warm smile. 

“Good, then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Another beat of silence before they disengaged and went their separate ways. “Get some sleep will ya.”

“I will.”

Kallus knew this time, he would.

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 4 |-o-|

As it turned out, Zeb was right about one thing, the head of Intelligence would eventually come around to see Kallus’ usefulness. It started slow, trusting him with more and more essential tasks, many of which were a significant upgrade from shuffling flimsi around in that old dusty closet.

Today, he was reading through intercepted shipping manifests. From fuel to raw materials used for building, anything passing through their quadrant of space for the Empire would be documented somewhere in this data. For once, they hadn’t assigned him to find something specific; instead, they were trusting him to find anything they should be paying attention to.

They were trusting him to know what was important and what wasn’t without their guidance.

This was, of course, a big step for them, and Kallus was determined to prove they’d made the right decision in giving him the task.

Overall the shipping manifests in the latest batch of intercepted imperial data was pretty unremarkable. Kallus was flicking through them rapidly as he often did as a first step before digging in deeper. He saw weapons, fuel, foodstuff for rations, armor for troopers, all the usual things the Empire needed to keep their war machine rolling ever forward.

They were in order by date, painting a specific picture of the frequency and pattern of these replenishments. Which could help him figure out how big this installation on the receiving end was. Then he noticed the shipments of construction elements (DuraCrete, DuraSteel, etc.) seem to contain duplicate invoices. Same date. Same invoice number. 

The first one he saw he thought was perhaps an error, a glitch in the intercepted database, but, as he flipped through for his second pass, he noted that once every two weeks a construction invoice was duplicated.

Kallus began charting the invoices, opening up a separate program to check in each individual invoice, what was on it, who had authorized it, who had received it, how much it contained and of what variety of supplies. And, most importantly, which ones duplicated.

It wasn’t all the construction invoices, only ones authorized by the same person Orson Krennic. He knew the name, knew it because he was Thrawn’s competition somehow. Each duplicated invoice had his name all over it, and now that Kallus was taking a closer look they weren’t exact duplicates, in fact, they were—

“Hey.”

The former ISB agent nearly jumped out of his skin, barely managing to catch the DataPad before it clattered to the ground. 

Zeb, who had just stepped into the mouth of the little cubicle which Kallus was working from, held his hands out in penance, eyes wide. “Karabast, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, his already so large eyes wide in surprise. “Actually, didn’t think it was possible to startle ya, must have been really distracted.”

Kallus was regaining his breath, one hand on his chest, the other setting down the pad on his desk. “I was, yes. Easy to get lost in the data sometimes,” he said. “What brings you by?”

The Lasat laughed, body relaxing, leaning onto the frame of the cubicle. He was so tall this meant dropping an elbow on the top of the wall as if it had been built at just the right height to do so. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Actually, he didn’t, and it wasn’t until now as he looked around the intelligence offices that he realized just how late it had become. “Let me guess it’s dinner time.”

“It is,” Zeb said, nodding. “You’ve never stood me up before, thought I’d come to check on ya.”

“Oh, Zeb, I’m sorry I completely lost track of time,” Kallus said. “It’s these manifests there’s something strange about them, and I guess I got so invested in solving it I completely tuned out the world, but we can go.”

He was just reaching for his jacket when Zeb snatched it from the peg and held it away from him.

“Slow down, yeah?” He said, with a lopsided smirk. “Tell ya what, you keep at it, and I’ll go get us some food and bring it back here. And maybe I can help you crack it.”

“You… you don’t want to work during your dinner, it’s fine I can—.”

“Kal, you are fully aware that I can easily out-stubborn you, right? 'Sides, I’m curious now.”

For a couple moments they simply stared at each other, then Kallus conceded. “Very well, but are you certain you don’t want me to come along to get the food?”

“I don’t mind at all,” Zeb said. “I know what stuff you like by now, I’ll be back.”

The Lasat replaced the jacket on its peg and then disappeared the way he had arrived. Kallus couldn’t help but look after him for a minute, his stomach consumed with the fluttering he now associated so heavily with Zeb doing thoughtful things for him. 

He wasn’t gone long, just long enough for Kallus to do a couple database searches to isolate any and all shipping manifests with Krennic’s name on it and to start pulling them up side by side to see what if anything was different between the original and their duplicates. It turned out there was one distinct difference, a line item tucked in among all the other regular building elements called KB-9476. 

He ran the item through the searches and found it on no other invoices, it only appeared on the duplicates.

“How’s it coming?” Zeb asked as he resurfaced, having clearly stolen the galley tray and brought it with him back to Intelligence. He hunched his back to slide it onto the desk carefully so as not to spill two warm cups of caf that were also balanced on the tray.

“I think I discovered something,” Kallus said, taking the caf and tipping in one of two sweeteners Zeb had staged next to the cup.

The Lasat had gone and nicked a chair from an adjacent cubicle, all of Kallus fellow Intelligence officers had long since left for the day at this point. The space he was working in was small, but they managed to fit, though their elbows kept accidentally brushing as they started to eat.

“If you think you’ve found something, its probably worth finding,” Zeb said, tearing into a roll with his teeth and starting to chew it. “So what did you find?” He asked this question around the partially eaten bread and if it were anyone else Kallus would have found it gross, but somehow he managed to find it endearing instead.

Now that the food was in front of him though, he suddenly found himself hungry, especially since Zeb had gotten him the warm vegetable medley he loved so much, even sprinkled it with topping Kallus liked. He speared several of the long beans on his fork and ate them before going to prop his DataPad up for them both to see.

“See these manifests here,” Kallus pointed out. “They’re all for construction elements DuraSteel, DuraCrete the usual suspects for building either facilities or ships. That, in and of itself isn’t unusual, but the fact that some of them duplicate with key items missing is.”

He brought up two side by side duplicate invoices and pointed out the line item.

Zeb was slurping up noodles, he swallowed a full mouth of them down, squinting at the small screen to read it. His ears were twitching, the way they often did when he was thinking.

“So, what is KB-9476?” Zeb asked. “And is it the only thing that disappears in the duplicates.”

Kallus grinned, it was a very astute question to ask for someone who wasn’t well versed with intelligence work. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, Zeb was smarter than he sometimes let on.

“It is,” Kallus said. “It must be a code they’re using for something, in order to conceal what it is. Now if the Empire is concealing something on its own records, there must be a good reason for it. Such as a high-level project with tip-top clearance required for even basic knowledge of what it is.”

“Like a new base or a new weapon of some kind?”

“EXACTLY!” 

They were both leaned over the data, shoulders touching until they turned to look at each other, both smiling like fools. Kallus chewed his bottom lip, suddenly aware of just how close they really were. Zeb seemed to notice too, looking for a moment like he was going to draw away, but then he seemed to think of something, thick brows drawing together before turning back to the invoices.

“Do we know where these deliveries were going?” Zeb asked, using a clawed finger to scroll through the files. 

“No, the destination field is left blank on all of them,” Kallus said, with a sigh, leaning back in his chair again. “Which is actually fairly unremarkable, these types of invoices are beamed directly to sources, no destination required in writing.”

He ate a couple bites, thinking hard, chewing slowly. Zeb was scratching the facial hair on his chin. “Where were these intercepted? We may not be able to find the end point but—”

“If we trace nearby hyperspace routes along where this was intercepted,” Kallus said, cottoning on, eyes going wide.

“We could in theory intercept one of these shipments in motion,” Zeb completed.

“That’s brilliant,” Kallus said, now typing away on the DataPad, not entirely unaware of the huge smile on Zeb’s face as he picked up his bowl of noodles, lounging in the chair to finally finish eating them.

It was quiet for a while, as Zeb ate and Kallus calculated frequencies and trajectories.

“If I’ve calculated properly, in a week another of these partially redacted invoice shipments will pass right through here,” Kallus said, pulling up a star map. “And thanks to the way the hyperspace lanes converge at that location they’ll have to drop out of hyperspace, allowing us to intercept the delivery ship and discover just what this KB-9476 actually is.”

“I love watching you work,” Zeb said, setting down his now empty bowl.

The heat of blush rose immediately on Kallus’ cheeks. He kept his face angled away to hide it as he collated the information to report to superiors. “Well, you helped,” he said. “And now I see how late I've kept you, my apologies.”

“I could have left if I wanted to,” Zeb said. “I didn’t want to. And now I’m not leaving until you eat the rest of this.”

“Still ensuring I take care of myself?” Kallus asked, placing the DataPad on its charger and sliding the tray closer.

“Someone has to, besides you look better with meat on your bones,” Zeb said, eyes grazing up the human’s arm before darting away. “Plus, they’ll never approve you for field work if you’re not healthy.”

Kallus wasn’t sure what to say to either of these things, so he ate for an excuse not to come up with something. Between the Lasat saying he loved watching him work and now a comment about his looks… Kallus' heart was floating. He didn’t want to get his hopes up at all.

Zeb was just a friend. He was probably this encouraging to all his friends. For a former imperial like Kallus, any and all kindness was new and foreign. He had to be very careful not to mistake it for something more. 

So distracted by his thoughts, before he realized his food was gone.

“There, happy now?”

Zeb gave him a genuine smile. “Actually, yeah, I really am,” he said, getting up to replace the chair back where he’d stolen it from. “Walk with me to return the tray?”

“Oh… sure.”

Kallus slid on his jacket, powering down the office’s lighting as they left.

|-o-|

Zeb was quietly kicking himself as Kallus walked at his side like a silent shadow. He’d said more than he’d meant to. It hadn’t been until they had been spending every evening together that the Lasat had started to realize just how much he liked Kallus, and that it went a bit beyond only comrades in arms. 

Why’d you have to go and talk about how he looked? He shot the man a sideways look, unable to totally keep himself from taking in the way the shirt beneath Kallus’ jacket fit nicely against the man’s chest now that he was eating again. But that didn’t mean Zeb needed to point it out.

Fortunately, Kallus didn’t seem uncomfortable after his admission, if anything, his expression was thoughtful. Perhaps his mind was back on work? In any case, Zeb stopped stealing looks as they approached the mess hall so as not to get caught.

“Wait here,” Zeb said, before nipping quickly inside to return the tray. There were only people on mess hall duty inside, cleaning up and prepping for the next day. None of them paid the Lasat any mind.

When he returned outside, Kallus was standing with his hands in his pockets gazing up at the stars. His golden hair shone differently in the twilight, Zeb was still getting used to seeing the locks loose and free.

“I do miss it,” Kallus said suddenly, not taking his eyes off of the sky. “Being up there, I hadn’t realized until now, but this may be the longest I’ve been planet-side in one place without traveling anywhere since basic training.”

He let out a wistful sigh, and Zeb came and settled next to his shoulder so that, again, they were touching.

“Going stir crazy myself here recently,” Zeb said. “Hoping that intel of yours might lead to Hera and me going out to intercept that shipment. Shame you can’t go with us.”

Kallus let out a breathy laugh, his hands dropping from his pockets. “They don’t think I’m ready just yet,” Kallus said.

“Is it the ribs? I thought they’d healed enough,” Zeb said. “In my day they’d make sure you could stand yourself upright and send you right back out into the field.”

Kallus gaze dropped from the sky, suddenly he looked conflicted, running fingers through his hair in a failed attempt to make it stay back. This was a nervous tick of his, Zeb had realized at some point. He sometimes wondered if the man had slicked it back while working for the Empire to keep himself from showing any weaknesses by playing with it.

“It’s not my medical clearance that’s holding me back,” he said quietly. “It’s the other half of the evaluation that is keeping me from fieldwork.”

Other half? Zeb wasn’t sure what that meant. He turned it over in his mind and was just about to ask when Kallus turned his eyes to his friend. He seemed to instantly register the question in the Lasat’s expression.

“There’s the physical evaluation as well as a psychological one,” Kallus said, tapping himself on the side of his head. “They felt, after the mental strain of being undercover so long, the circumstances of my escape, and then… everything else once I got here, that I needed a period of recovery mentally…”

Something tiny in Zeb’s heart broke. He felt terrible for making his friend acknowledge this out loud.

“Karabast, Kal, 'm sorry,” he murmured. “I had no idea… and here I am pushing you to get cleared. I’m a fool.”

“You are many things, Garazeb, and a fool is not one of them.”

Kallus had turned so that they were facing each other now, and the shorter human had reached up, placing a hand on Zeb’s shoulder. “And even unaware you’ve been a great help in that arena. You’ve helped me out of my shell, coaxed me into eating, and taking care of myself again. No therapist has helped me nearly as much as you have.”

Zeb's heart thumped against the inside of his ribcage, racing in response to the look of tender warmth on Kallus’ face. The Lasat reached up, half tempted to touch Kallus’ face, to brush the tuft of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes back, but in the end placing a hand on his shoulder instead.

“Well, I care about you,” Zeb confessed. He wondered how many people Kallus met that he had to look up to meet eyes like this. Probably not many as he was definitely tall by human standards.

“I care about you too,” Kallus returned. “You realize that I hope.”

“I… I do now.” Warmth was spreading through Zeb, had Kallus just moved the tiniest bit closer? Was he imagining that? The smile was definitely bigger, and Zeb was now sure with 100% certainty he’d probably do anything to see Kallus smile like this as often as possible.

“You’re the reason I’m here. If you hadn’t given me a chance on that frozen wasteland of a moon—”

“Let’s not even think like that,” Zeb said, squeezing the shoulder beneath his fingers. “You’re here now, and I’m really glad.”

“As am I. And someday, really soon, we’ll get to fight side by side,” Kallus assured him.

“Something to look forward to,” Zeb said. They were still standing so very close and yet every fiber of his being was demanding he close the distance and pull this man who had come to mean so much into his arms.

He was very near relenting when a clattering sound made them both startle, a toolbox toppling off the nose of a nearby A-Wing. Zeb spotted one of the local fauna skittering away and resisted the urge to blast it.

The moment, whatever it had been shaping up to be, was over.

“Well, I think I should head to bed,” Kallus said. “I’d like to get up early to present those findings — our findings.”

“Please, I did very little,” Zeb said, wishing they were still touching. 

“Goodnight, Zeb,” he said. “See you tomorrow?”

“One of these days you’ll realize you don’t need to ask because of course you will,” Zeb replied. “G’night, Kal.”

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 5 |-o-|

Kallus reviewed the data for what must have been the hundredth time, gripping the DataPad as he walked from his private quarters towards the briefing room. There was no reason to be nervous, he knew that on some level, and yet his stomach was in knots.

As an ISB agent, he’d attended many briefings in his Empire days, even ran some that included high-level officials, Grand Admirals, even Sith Lords, and yet his nerves were getting to him. He would be briefing a mission that was reliant entirely upon intel he had gathered, numbers he had crunched, not only that but he would be sending his dearest friend’s crew out on the mission.

For all Zeb’s hope that the task would land in the Ghost crew’s lap, Kallus had been selfishly hoping it would not. Not least because the Spectres were short-handed, but also because the idea of going any amount of time with the Lasat off world was unpleasant. Still, it was bound to happen eventually. They’d both remained on Yavin IV for weeks by sheer luck.

He wasn’t even looking at the data on the screen now, which made it all the more embarrassing when he ran headlong into someone and nearly dropped the device entirely. He also knocked the person he’d run into over, someone with green skin and lekku.

“Captain, I’m terribly sorry,” he said, tucking the pad under his arm and extending a hand to help. “I was not looking where I was going.”

“It’s just Hera, no Captain needed,” she said, as he helped get her back to her feet. “And you’re not entirely to blame, I also wasn’t looking where I was going.” She brushed herself off and then bent to pick up her own DataPad which had fallen to the ground, fortunately not breaking since they were on the soft grassy area of the landing field.

It was only then that Kallus realized he had turned away from his intended course and had been heading towards the Ghost instead of the conference room. He looked past Hera and let out a soft sigh. His mind had been on Zeb, and clearly, his feet had simply carried him in that direction automatically. 

“Zeb’s already gone ahead in,” Hera said, giving him a quirked smile. “I had to double back because I forgot something.”

Kallus felt the heat of a blush creeping up behind his facial hair. He ran his free hand through his hair. “Awfully punctual of him,” he joked. “Shall we.” He gestured forward in the direction he should have been going.

“He was unusually eager to get to this briefing,” Hera said, “for some reason.” She shot him a long look, still with the sly smile as she moved to walk at his side.

“Oh, well, he did lend a hand in helping to unravel the data,” he said.

“So he told me,” Hera said. “Zeb thinks very highly of you.”

Kallus swallowed down a sudden knot that had developed in his throat at the notion that Zeb thought about him at all when they weren’t immediately adjacent to one another. Let alone that he’d speak to Hera about it.

“And I of him as well,” he said, finding his voice. “Which I suppose is not so surprising to hear, he is the reason I defected, after all.”

Hera's smile grew wider, but she didn’t say anything else on the matter as they were very nearly to their destination.

Zeb was already there, standing with Hobby and Wedge, discussing something. The Lasat turned though, meeting eyes with Kallus as he entered, a grin spreading across his full lips before turning back away.

Kallus had to actively work to not think too hard about Zeb’s lips as the briefing was brought to order by Mon Mothma. He only just realized he was being introduced to speak when everyone turned to look at him. He cleared his throat, stepped forward, and inserted a DataCard into the main display terminal.

“The mission,” he said, tapping a few controls to bring up an image, “is to intercept a Class 4 container transport as it drops out of hyperspace to shift its trajectory before returning to light speed for the remainder of the journey.”

“What’s in the containers?” Rex asked.

“The majority of its cargo consists of construction components. DuraCrete, TranspariSteel, the usual things you would see the Empire moving to a new base for infrastructure,” Kallus answered. “We have been tracking the shipping manifests. They’ve made weekly runs of such materials along this route, but this one is a little different. If the pattern follows this transport will also be carrying an unidentified item, KB tack 9476, an item the Empire has been scrubbing from its own manifests.”

“Any idea what it is?” Wedge asked.

Hera stepped forward. “We could guess, but the only way to know for sure is to intercept it,” she said. “My crew’s dealt with this style of container ship more than once, in fact, AP-5 was serving on one just like it before he defected, so we’re taking him along. We can disconnect the load from the main ship using controls in the cargo bay, here.” She pointed.

“Usually the cargo area is manned by droids, shouldn’t be too difficult to get control of the thing,” Zeb said. “Then our birds will keep the imps occupied, giving us time to search the contents of the cargo.”

Kallus kept his face neutral, while internally cringing at the idea of Zeb floating through space on half of a container ship chasing a hunch. Not just any hunch, but Kallus’ own hunch…

“Chances are, they will abandon the cargo and make the jump,” Hera said.

“Empire protocol would dictate that unless the cargo is classified as a danger against the Empire, they will jump, yes,” Kallus said. “You should, however, be prepared for the… alternative circumstance.”

Zeb had turned, meeting eyes with him, then asked though he could likely read the answer in his expression. “And that is?”

“That they’ll attempt to destroy the cargo before escaping.”

|-o-|

Zeb was lying in his bunk, in the relative dark of the night cycle running lights, listening to the familiar thrum of the Ghost traveling through hyperspace. He was meant to be taking a quick nap, but then he’d gotten comfortable and been unable to turn his brain off.

The truth was, he’d reached the point where it no longer surprised him that his mind tended to drift always to the same thing when left idle. Well, not a thing so much as a person: Kallus.

The last time the Ghost had been in hyperspace the man had been there, recovering from his injuries, resting in the very bunk Zeb was currently occupying. At the time, the Lasat didn’t realize what it was that had made him want to help the newly escaped ISB agent. Now, weeks later, Zeb’s feelings were coming into focus, and on a certain level, it terrified him.

Idly he thumbed the DataStick he was holding, flipping it over in his between his fingers. Kallus had handed it to him right before they’d departed when Zeb had just started to think the man hadn’t come to see them off and was just beginning to feel the sting of disappointment.

“I nearly missed you,” Kallus had said. “Was coding this.” The DataStick had been forced into Zeb’s hand then as Kallus, clearly keenly aware of the number of eyes on them, backed swiftly back away. “Good luck.”

There had been a tiny note stuck on the stick that read 'in case you need to reach me’.

Zeb had only just managed to regain some swagger before turning up the ramp. “Don’t need luck, 'cause we’ve got me,” he’d said. Then he had pocketed the stick and left with what he hoped was a casual wave over his shoulder.

Now, hours later, the little note had been safely tucked away, and Zeb had absolutely not spent any time analyzing just how tidy Kallus’ writing was. The stick, on the other hand, Zeb had decided to keep on his person.

Which was how he’d found himself lying awake, fiddling with it instead of sleeping, and wishing Kallus could have just come with them.

His comm buzzed to life. “We’ll be coming out of hyperspace in a few minutes,” Hera said.

Relieved to have something, anything, to occupy his mind, Zeb swung his legs from the bunk and stood. He depressed the call button on his cabin’s comm. “On my way.”

His bo-rifle was out on the table from where he’d been cleaning it, with a smooth motion he scooped it up and swung it onto his back. He paused long enough to look down at the DataStick and decide.

Zeb tucked it into his pocket before departing.

He reached the cockpit just in time to see the elongated stars stutter back into solid white dots scattered across the inky black darkness of space. Then two A-Wings blinked into view flanked along either side of them.

“We won’t have much time,” Hera said, peering at him over her shoulder. “The last thing I need is for them to jump with you still on board, so you two will need to be quick about disconnecting.”

“Where’s AP?” Zeb asked, he almost missed Chopper, the idea of carting this slow-moving inventory droid on this job was making him nervous.

“He and Rex are already in the cargo hold,” she said. “Waiting on you.”

“Then I best get moving,” Zeb said, proceeding down the ladder into the bowels of the ship.

The gimmick was reasonably straightforward, and they’d done parts before. While the A-Wings were distracting the pilots of the container ship, the Ghost would latch on via the cargo area, allowing Zeb and AP-5 to board. That part, actually, went fairly well.

Rex was operating the magnetic locks, and thanks to Hera’s amazing flying and his reflexes they were docked before the ship had the chance to do much in the way of response.

“All aboard,” Rex said. “Don’t let the droid slow you down.”

“I’d like to remind you that without me there would be no purpose in even boarding the ship,” AP-5 said, in his monotone voice. 

“C’ mon then, let's get on with it,” Zeb said.

Within moments they were creeping around the cargo bay of the carrier, looking for a convenient data port to use. Zeb had a tight grip on his bo-rifle, ready to shoot anything that moved, and trying not to snap endlessly at just how slow AP-5 walked when he spotted one.

“Look, there,” Zeb whispered. “You’re sure there won’t be any crew back here?”

“Just the droids,” AP-5 said, already interfacing with the ship. 

“Speaking of droids,” Zeb groaned. It was almost as if they’d spoken one into existence, big, broad and looming a security droid with red glowing eyes had spotted them. 

It raised an arm and fired a laser bolt directly at Zeb, he only just managed to roll out of the way. He needed to keep the thing distracted while AP-5 worked, so he brought up his bo-rifle and fired. It glanced off the droid’s heavy armor as he suspected it would but definitely kept the things attention.

“Do something,” Zeb growled, as he dodges the droids next attempt to fire on him.

“I apologize, I was unaware you wanted me to do something,” AP-5 said, with his usual sarcasm. “I thought I was just along to slow you down.” 

With a lucky shot, Zeb incapacitated the security droids right blaster, but that just meant it raised its other metallic limb instead and fired from that. 

“Disarming droid based security… now.”

Before firing another shot, the massive droid froze, arm still extended, but its red eyes dimmed and then died. Zeb breathed a relieved sigh out. 

“Good work, AP-5,” Zeb said, getting to his feet again. 

“Oh, you’re still alive? Perhaps I didn’t move slow enough,” AP quipped, then. “Captain Hera, we are about to disconnect the container hold from the main drive ship in 3… 2… 1…”

There was a shudder beneath their feet as the separation occurred. 

“Disconnection confirmed, nice work AP-5,” Hera’s voice responded through the comm. “Phoenix One, Phoenix Two engage at will. Let them jump away if they attempt it.”

Zeb could hear the A-Wing’s firing, the all too familiar sound of space warfare drifting to his ears through the container ship’s walls.

“Ships inventory system does not show any item coded as KB-9476 on the data logs,” AP-5 droned, before finally disengaging from the terminal. 

“Guess we’ll have to find it the good old fashioned way,” Zeb said.

They set about searching through cargo containers on the eerily quiet vessel. Without the buzz of engines, you could almost feel the vacuum of space just outside. It wasn’t a pleasant notion. 

“Excuse me, but I think we might have a problem.” AP’s voice was near, Zeb followed it, coming around a stack of containers.

Zeb knew then that they were in trouble, if anything on this damned carrier was the mysterious item the Empire was hiding from itself, surely it was this. Several cases full to the brim with colored crystals, mainly blue and green.

And they were all rigged to explode.

“Karabast,” Zeb muttered, pulling his comm unit free of its holder and bringing it up to speak into it. “Spectre Two, we’ve got a problem here. It’s kyber, KB whatever the number was… it’s kyber crystal, and they’ve got it wired to self-destruct.”

“How long do we have?” 

“Three minutes,” Zeb said, he could hear the friendly fire outside, hear the A-Wings driving off the imp ship. “You all have got to pull back if this much kyber blows it could take the Ghost and both A-wings with it.”

“Not without you.”

In his pocket, Zeb felt the DataStick, thinking fast.

“AP, does this bucket of bolts have escape pods?” Zeb asked. 

“As a matter of fact, it does,” AP replied, then without pre-amble the droid turned and headed away from where they were. Zeb followed. 

It all went in a blur after that, and he tried his best not to think of the last time he’d been in an escape pod. At least this time no one was fighting him for control of the pod, as it rocketed into space. There was no way to get but so far away from the container ship, with the small thrusters built onto the pod.

“One minute until detonation,” AP-5 said, unhelpfully, as Zeb hammered the needed controls to hail Hera.

Zeb put whatever distance he could between them and the container ship, as the Ghost turned to come their way.

“Forty-five seconds.”

The imperial drive ship escaped into hyperspace with a pop, the A-Wings were splitting up, Hera was telling them to go.

“Thirty seconds.”

The Ghost was doing a barrel roll, Zeb could see the bottom of the cargo area was opened, he knew the move she was about to make, had seen her do it once before to rescue a particular former ISB agent when he’d escaped from the Star Destroyer Chimaera. 

“Twenty seconds.”

“I KNOW, STOP COUNTING,” Zeb growled.

Suddenly the viewport of the escape pod went from the inky darkness of space to the insides of the Ghost. They were upside down so that when the artificial gravity kicked in, they both fell awkwardly in a heap of purple fur and metal. 

Then the ship shook violently between the crescendo of the thrusters and the explosives going off, sending out a kyber assisted shockwave. 

|-o-|

Hours later, Zeb had finally found a moment to take for himself. He would make an excuse for his absence if he had to, but the diagnostics were running themselves, and AP was monitoring things. Hera and Rex had gone for some parts, and until they came back, Zeb figured he could spare a few minutes.

He carefully plugged the DataStick into the port on his pad and waited for it to connect. The programming did all the heavy lifting, all he had to do was wait.

“Zeb?”

Something that had been clenched tightly inside the Lasat since he’d seen the explosives ticking down seemed to relax at the sight of Kallus. The man was rubbing his eyes, his hair a level of mussed that Zeb had never seen before. There was the faint squeak of cot springs in the background. 

“Sorry, didn’t check the time, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Zeb said. He couldn’t be but so sorry as seeing Kallus dressed for bed, in a tank top, was thrilling.

“Shouldn’t you be in hyperspace right now?” Kallus asked, seemingly only just realizing the time. “Thought you were due back by morning.”

“Things went a bit sideways, had to find a safe planet to dock on, and make repairs.”

Kallus was suddenly looking much more awake, sitting up straighter, eyes searching over Zeb. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“The Empire went with the alternative circumstance,” Zeb said simply. “Don’t worry, no one’s hurt.” He added this last bit hastily as Kallus looked alarmed.

“Were you…” here Kallus clears his through and runs his hand over his unruly hair. “Were you on board with the cargo when they tried to destroy it?”

“Yeah, I was,” Zeb answered. The look of sheer remorse and fear on Kallus’ face sent the Lasat’s stomach turning. “Relax, I’m fine. Fortunately, there was an escape pod handy. And this time it didn’t crash into any barren moons.”

Kallus seemed to soften at that, chuckling. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe,” he said. “If you’d perished following my intel lead…”

“I didn’t, did I?” Zeb interrupted, not wanting to let those thoughts spiral any further than they already had in his friend's mind. “Anyway, I guess I didn’t really need anything when I called, I just…”

“Needing to talk to me counts, Garazeb,” Kallus said. “I would’ve worried when the Ghost failed to arrive on schedule, so thank you.”

For a moment they looked at each other, as best as they could through the holochat video connection. Zeb felt warmer than he should have, and he was reasonably sure it had everything to do with the smile that graced the former ISB agent’s face.

“I better get back to these repairs,” Zeb said with a sigh. “Let you get back to sleep.”

“Right, right, of course,” Kallus said, nodding, pressing his lips together as if keeping them from saying more.

“You better be taking care of yourself,” Zeb said, scratching the back of his neck.

“I assure you I am,” Kallus said. “Eating every day, as instructed, don’t you worry about me.”

Zeb wanted to tell the man he couldn’t help it. That he thought of him often whether he meant to or not, instead he nodded. “Alright then, I’ll see you soon.”

“Of course. Soon.” Then Kallus ran his hand over his hair one last time and smiled before cutting the connection. 

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 6 |-o-|

“To believe I walk alone,
Is a lie that I’ve been told.”

        - Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Fort Atlantic

|-o-|

Kallus should have realized that overall things were going a little too well. He was fully healed from his escape, and since Zeb had started coming to dinners with him, the mess hall felt less like hostile territory. For the most part, his transition into the rebel alliance had gone smoothly. The higher officers were pleased with his work, things were, dare he say, good.

He should have realized, however, that Rebel Command’s opinion and attitude would not necessarily be shared by the lower level rebels.

Then Zeb, Hera, and the other remnants of Phoenix Squadron went off-world, and Kallus’ reality came crashing down upon him.

Things were fine at the intelligence offices. Many of the other intelligence officials were also former imperials or spies and were less likely to find him out of place. Sure, it was extremely rare for someone from ISB to have defected, but aside from that former imperials were a credit a dozen in the rebel intelligence branch.

No, it was once he was done with his daily duties on the day the Ghost was finally due to return that something happened that made Kallus realize his sense of security was a little more firm than it should have been.

Yavin IV was a relatively lush and tropical place. The base had been set up in the most prominent temple ruins they could find but winding out from here were trails to other ruin sites. Kallus, having been trapped inside for years with the Empire, had decided to use his downtime to explore the area a bit.

He thought the fresh air would be good for him, and it was as good a way as any to kill an afternoon alone.

The walk out was actually quite enjoyable. Kallus took his time, soaking up the colorful flowers that grew along the trail, and eying some fascinating insects climbing in lines up the tropical tree trunks. He made it to one of the ruin sites, where the undergrowth faded away to reveal barren dirt around a smaller crumbling version of the temples the rebellion had taken up residence in.

For some reason, the first thought he had was that he wished he’d brought Zeb with him. Ideas like this still surprised him, he kept trying to tell himself that it was merely because Zeb was the closest thing he had to a friend at the moment.

With each passing day, it became harder and harder to convince himself of this. 

After wandering around the ruins for a while, Kallus decided he’d better head back to base before it got dark out. Already the sky had begun to turn to shades of orange and purple, and his mind had turned to the idea Zeb might just be back in time for dinner. He allowed himself one last look at the temple, now set against the blazing sunset sky. He’d definitely have to bring Zeb back here, he thought leaving the same way he’d come in on.

He didn’t see them at first, the group of young rebels scattered among the trees, some backed up to trunks, others lying in long-fronded underbrush, on either side of the trail back. By the time he took notice it was too late, he was already loosely surrounded by them.

“You’re Agent Kallus, right?” a young human with scraggly brown hair addressed him from where he was leaned up against the trunk of a tree. 

“Who’s asking?” Kallus asked, eyes glancing over his shoulder as the gentlemen behind him stepped forward from their spots in the forest. Based on the gear they were wearing, Kallus assumed them to be low-level pilots and ship maintenance. 

“Someone who’s brother you sent to an internment camp,” the boy growled. For it was just a boy, hardly old enough to pilot a spacecraft.

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been tossed over Kallus. He had always known, on some level, that surely there were people here who had been affected directly by his actions as an active ISB agent, known that it couldn’t be just the crew of the Ghost who had reason to hate him.

“I’m terribly sorry, I—” was all Kallus managed to get out before the first fist collided firmly with his mutton-chopped jaw. 

|-o-|

Since they’d been forced to make the stop anyway, the Ghost had picked up several crates of supplies in addition to the parts they’d needed for repairs. So once they’d landed, despite the fact he wanted to immediately go find Kallus (an urge that part surprised and part terrified him), Zeb had set about getting the crates unloaded. 

It didn’t take that long, but by the time they were done the sun was starting to set. Kallus had yet to turn up on his own.

“This is the last one,” Zeb said, sliding it alongside the row of crates AP-5 was inventorying. He stretched his back, lifting himself up to his full height. Soft footsteps descending the cargo ramp let him know that Hera was walking up behind him. “Need me to do anything else?”

She shook her head as she stepped around him, lekku swaying as she did so. “No, I think we’re good to go. I’ve got a meeting with Mon Mothma to debrief. I’ll be back later to eat some rations and start running post-mission diagnostics on the ship,” she said, then continued on across the landing field and into the main base temple. It was about as formal of a dismissal as Hera ever gave.

Wedge had turned up, peeking at the new supplies likely looking for some part or another. He’d been back himself for a day already, so before Zeb went hunting, he decided to ask the kid.

“Don’t suppose you’ve seen Commander Kallus around anywhere have yeh?”

“Actually, not long before you landed I saw him heading down that trail to the west,” Wedge said, pointing.  

Zeb gave a hasty thanks and headed off down the trail. Hopefully, he could track down the man, and they could go to dinner, catch up on the anything he’d missed, and make sure the former ISB agent had fared okay in the Lasat’s absence.

At some point, Zeb had come to care more about Kallus’ well being than he’d ever meant to. The realization hadn’t fully registered before he went off-planet. He ruminated on this fact as he rounded a bend in the trail and the sound of skin on skin contact reached his pointed ears. 

Could Kallus be sparring with someone out here in the jungle?

This thought only lived for a moment in the Lasat’s mind before the truth blindsided him. Kallus was hunched over, surrounded by five human men who were beating the ever-loving crap out of him.

“Hey!” Zeb barked, suddenly bounding down the trail at top speed.

Five heads whipped around to witness his approach, but Kallus didn’t so much as look up. In fact, once the two goons who were holding him released their grip, he fell to his knees instead, his face in his hands.

“Who do you think you are?” Zeb growled, seizing the nearest assaulter by the collar and flinging him away from Kallus with an almost effortless flick of his arm.

One of the men made the mistake of trying to continue, he wound up and planted a kick in Kallus’ side while Zeb was distracted, pulling off one of his friends.

Zeb punched him before he managed to look around to properly see the source of the feral growl that had left the Lasat’s throat. The boy fell to the trail, legs and arms akimbo, knocked out cold.

For a moment it looked like his friends were going to leave him there, that is until Zeb turned his attention fully to Kallus. Then three of them snuck up to retrieve their unconscious friend.

“You’ll pay for this,” one said, as they hauled the fool kid up. “He deserved what he got, and he knows it, why else would he not even bother to fight back?” 

“We’ll see if the disciplinary board agrees that this Commander deserved this treatment,” Zeb growled. “Now get out of here the lot of you before I change my mind about letting you walk away. GO!”

They didn’t need to be told twice, half dragging their unconscious friend as they evacuated back towards the base.

“Kal, talk to me,” Zeb said, dropping to a knee. “Are you okay?”

Kallus slowly raised his head, dropping his hands away from his freckled face. One eye was already starting to swell, it hadn’t been long since it healed from Thrawn, and now it was blackened all over again. Blood dribbled from his nose and sputtered down over the man’s lips as he huffed out a labored breath.

“I’m alive if that’s what you mean,” Kallus said, falling back on his haunches and off of his knees.

“Good, because I’m going to kill you,” Zeb said, then without another word, he hunched over and gathered the human into his arms.

|-o-|

Before he had a chance to react, Kallus found himself being bodily carried back up the trail. He’d always known Zeb was strong enough to do this, but somehow witnessing it first hand was sending a cacophony of conflicting emotions through the man. 

Neither spoke, Kallus didn’t dare try to move as he was sure his recently healed cracked ribs had been injured again, possibly even completely broken. Zeb’s hold on him was somehow firm and gentle all at once, keeping him securely lifted aloft while not adding to his pain in any way. Kallus reveled in it, allowing his head to fall against the Lasat’s muscled chest as he carried him up the ramp into the Ghost.

Then Kallus was being deposited not quite as gently onto Zeb’s bunk. The Lasat barely looked at him, choosing instead to focus on retrieving medical supplies to tend to the injuries. 

“You are angry,” Kallus said. It was not a question.

“Of course I’m angry,” Zeb said, clawed fingers finding the hem of Kallus drab colored shirt to remove it. “What were you going to do just let them kill you?”

Kallus swallowed, grateful to be lost temporarily in the fabric of his shirt as it was removed over his head. He considered lying, considered making up some sort of excuse for why he’d let them beat him up, but he knew Zeb would likely see right through him.

“Is it not what I deserve?” Kallus asked, keeping his eyes decidedly looking down at the floor, aware in his peripherals that the Lasat had looked up from the med kit at the question. “I imprisoned their family, killed their friends. What was I to do?”

“You were to defend yourself,” Zeb said, in a low dangerous voice. “What if I hadn’t turned up? What if I’d gotten stuck off world longer getting the ship repaired?”

“I don’t think they would have gone all the way to killing me,” Kallus said. “Just left me beaten in the woods more than likely.”

Zeb rose, pacing from one end of his quarters to the other. “You’re not listening,” Zeb said. “What if they had left you there, bleeding, unable to get up? That’s as good as kriffing dead, Kal.”

“Again, is it not what I deserve?”

The reaction to this was sudden and surprising. Zeb let out a roar and punched the wall, before rounding wide-eyed on Kallus, teeth bared. 

“Well, I say you deserve better. I say you’ve earned more than that end,” he said. “Not only that what if I hadn’t come looking for you? How would I have felt if I found out I could’ve saved you but didn’t?”

Kallus wanted to ask him why he would have cared so much if he had died, but he wasn’t ready for the answer. He had suspicions. Crazy hopeful suspicions, however, he knew that he at least wasn’t prepared to face his true feelings. Not yet. Not in this way.

So instead he said the only thing he could think of.

“I’m sorry. I am not used to the idea my life has value to others. That... wasn’t the case in the Empire.”

Zeb deflated, shoulders sagging, eyes growing soft as he returned to Kallus’ side. “S’okay,” he said, reaching for some bacta strips, gentle hands testing to see if the ribs were fully broken this time. “Just promise me next time you’ll at least fight back. Don’t make me feel like I have to stay by your side to defend you because you won’t defend yourself.”

“You say that as if it would be a bad thing,” Kallus said, unable to pretend he wouldn’t enjoy having Zeb around that much.

The Lasat gave him a lopsided smile, smearing salve over bruises. “You know what I mean,” he said. “And no, that doesn’t actually sound so bad.”

Kallus watched as Zeb smoothed over a bruise along his rib cage. Just as gently as he had the first night Kallus had escaped the Empire, only the expression on his face was different, warmer, kinder.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Kallus joked, relaxing a bit, leaning back against his own arm while the Lasat worked.

Zeb chuckled. “I much prefer meeting over nice calm dinners, but someone has to mop you up,” he said. “Anywhere else hurt? They didn’t get your bum leg did they?”

“No, not this time,” Kallus said, tugging his shirt back on as Zeb put away the med kit. Then much to the human’s surprise, Zeb joined him sitting in the bunk, scooting so that his shoulders rested on the back wall. It took Kallus a minute to realize he was meant to join him, sliding his butt back to sit side by side with the Lasat.

“I ought to actually report those jack asses,” Zeb said, bending one knee and allowing his arm that wasn’t pinned between them to rest lazily upon it. “Something tells me you don’t want me to do that, though.”

“No,” Kallus said, simply. “I don’t want to be trouble.”

“What do I have 'ta do to convince you that you’re allowed to take up space on this base?” Zeb asked, fixing his friend with a sharp look. “That you’re allowed to eat the food, to walk the trails in peace?”

“Hey, I’ve been eating!” Kallus all but whined, before checking himself. “Thanks… to you.”

Zeb huffed out a laugh. “What am I going to do with you?”

Kallus mind immediately provided the helpful suggestion of be with me, and he knew full well it didn’t mean as a friend. He had to navigate his next statement very very carefully.

“Hopefully continue to be patient with me,” he said. “Because I’m so grateful to have you in my life, Garazeb.”

“I’ll always be patient with you, and hopefully someday you’ll be patient with yourself,” Zeb said. 

Silence descended upon them, but not an uncomfortable one. Kallus didn’t realize he was nodding off until his head met with Zeb’s shoulder. 

|-o-|

Zeb let out a sigh, as the former agent beside him dozed right off leaning against his shoulder. So he was eating better, but perhaps not sleeping better. The Lasat wasn’t much surprised, considering in the one night the man had spent sleeping aboard the Ghost he’d had a nightmare.

So Zeb let him sleep there. With a careful twist of his arm behind his back, he was able to retrieve his DataPad and lounged there reading. He could almost forget about the figured tucked up against him asleep if it wasn’t for the fact that everywhere they’re bodies touched one another radiated warmth through him.

In a weird way, it felt very nearly normal. Zeb scrolling through something on his DataPad, feeling the occasional brush of Kallus’ hair on his shoulder or neck depending. It somehow felt brand new and yet completely normal as if they’d spend many an afternoon like this.

Zeb had long lost track of time when the doors to his cabin swooshed open.

“Zeb, we’ve got a compression problem in the forward stabilizer—.” Hera broke off, having made it three steps into the room before she took in the scene before her. Her eyes slid across Kallus’ sleeping form, still tucked against Zeb’s side, head almost nuzzled into the Lasat’s shoulder. “Oh…”

Karabast! Zeb sat aside his DataPad and jabbed a threatening finger at her. 'Not one word,’ he mouthed.

Hera had her own pad in her hand, likely from where she’d been reviewing diagnostics. “I didn’t say anything,” she whispered, then she held up the pad and clearly used it to capture a Holoimage.

“Hera,” Zeb hissed as quietly as he could while still conveying his frustration. This was behavior he would have expected from the kids, not Hera.

“I think it’s sweet,” she whispered, backing up towards the door. “I’ll send you a copy.”

“No,” Zeb whispered urgently. “You’ll delete it.”

Hera pantomimed cupping hand over her ear cone, hidden beneath her pilot’s cap, and mouthed 'sorry, can’t hear you’ before backing entirely out of the cabin and allowing the doors to close back behind her. This left Zeb no choice but to seethe until he too was ready to nod off.

He thought, again, about waking the man but instead decided he would simply return the favor and lean in upon Kallus. He couldn’t help but think fleetingly of Bahryn, and a very different time they had slept leaned up upon each other’s shoulders.

Only this time, he was sure, they wouldn’t shove each other off in disgust when they awoke.

At least, he hoped not.

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 7 |-o-|

“You must be bored if you’re hanging out in here,” Kallus said, sneaking a glance at Zeb.

They were in the Yavin base’s intelligence offices, which were quiet and empty. After a few rainy days, Yavin was finally gracing them with a sunny day leading most of Kallus’ fellow intelligence officers to take the day and enjoy the weather instead of staying cooped up inside.

“Hera’s tied up in meetings. The other’s are still off-planet,” Zeb said, with a shrug. The Lasat was leaned up against the cubical wall to the side of Kallus’ desk. “Everyone else is out enjoying the weather, and here you are, working as usual.”

Kallus flicked his eyes up to Zeb’s. “Well, there’s always more intelligence in need of reading,” he said. He chose not to suggest some of the other people Zeb knew on base, as the truth was Kallus felt pretty happy to be the one he’d come to find today.

“Anything interesting?”

“Not unless you want to hear explicit communications between the Horizon fuel station’s receiving officer and what appears to be the pilot of a fuel delivery ship he was having an affair with,” Kallus said, scrolling over the list of messages.

“I might a little,” Zeb joked. Kallus could feel the Lasat’s eyes on him. “Or you could stop being the biggest workaholic on base, and we could find something more fun to do.”

Throat going dry, Kallus stared blankly at his DataPad as his mind provided several very unhelpful ideas of fun things they could do, all of which would require them to go to private quarters and would have put the dirty communiques he’d just read to shame. He needed to reign in this crush he was harboring before he accidentally said or did something to put off the Lasat. 

“Imagine you have something in mind,” Kallus said, powering down his pad and swiveling his chair to look fully to Zeb.

“Want to spar?”

“What, exactly, would we spar with? As you well know, I lost my…”

Kallus trailed off. They’d hardly discussed the fact that Thrawn likely had his bo-rifle. Zeb’s jaunty smile slipped a bit as he stood up from the wall. The one conversation they’d had about the whereabouts of the weapon had upset the Lasat more than Kallus expected, and he didn’t long to repeat the experience.

“Wouldn’t have wanted to use the real thing anyway,” Zeb said. “Got an alternative lined up. C’ mon and I’ll show ya.”

Kallus took the offered hand and tried not to feel disappointment when the grip loosened once he was standing.

A few minutes later, Kallus found himself waiting at the foot of the Ghost’s cargo ramp, adjusting the tightness of the fingerless gloves he had taken to wearing.

“I think these’ll do, don’t you?”

Kallus only had a moment to look up before one of the two staffs was thrown directly at his face. He managed to catch it, pulling it away for a better look.

It was a bo-staff in the most basic of instances: literally, just a wooden rod in which Zeb had carved two handholds and then grooved the expanse of wood between.

“Got the idea from these training sabers that Kanan and I made to use for lightsaber training,” Zeb said. “Hera’d gone on the warpath because they’d cut up the cargo bay walls sparring.”

Kallus tested the grip, giving the staff an experimental spin, hands moving one over top of the other until he swung it around, angled diagonally behind him.

“It’s no bo-rifle. But it should do, yes,” Kallus said.

“Excellent,” Zeb said, swinging his around with an acrobatic flourish only he could have accomplished. He smiled rakishly, sending fluttering in a crescendo through Kallus’ stomach. “Ready when you are, Commander.”

The Lasat’s voice had a taunting lilt to it, making Kallus laugh. “I think you’ll find I’m always ready,” he said, moving the staff to cross over his chest. “Now face me.”

The mirror in language to the first time they’d fought each other back when they’d actually been enemies was clearly not lost on Zeb. The Lasat growled, then pounced, bringing his bo-staff around in a long vertical arc. The two weapons collided with a satisfying clack.

Their faces were very close now, Zeb’s weight leaned in, supported where their weapons were locked.

“Oh, I’ll face ya alright,” he purred, fanged smile wider than Kallus had ever seen. “Only you might not like it.”

Or I’ll like it much more than I can ever admit to you.

“We shall see.”

With that, they were off. Kallus shoved back against Zeb, pushing him briefly off balance before swinging back around for his first attack, which Zeb parried at the last second.

What followed was intense and rapid-fire as they traded blows back and forth. Twice Zeb nearly got him in the torso, but he managed to jump back. Three times Kallus almost took the Lasat down to his back but was waylaid when Zeb switched his staff from his hand to one of his feet to grip.

“I’m inclined to deem that cheating,” Kallus said, breathing hard and mopping sweat from his brow.

Zeb threw the staff into the air with his foot and caught it back in his clawed hand, giving it an unnecessary twirl as he did so. 

“Well, fair is fair, take off those boots and give it a go,” Zeb said. 

“Oh, very humorous,” Kallus said. Though he realized he could take off something else that might help, he started to shrug it off of his shoulders.

“Coming out of the jacket?” Zeb asked, grinning. “Must be getting serious now, aren’t we?”

“Garazeb, you ought to know by now I am always serious,” Kallus declared as he tossed his jacket up the ramp.

“I know, but I’ve been working on that. Ready?”

Zeb barely waited for a response before the bo-staff in his hand blurred back into motion, his bare feet leaving the ground momentarily for an overhead strike that forced Kallus to shift his hands and perform a rising block. The staffs locking together once more, Kallus attempted to ignore just how Zeb’s wickedly delighted smile made him feel.

They’d garnered an audience now. Rebels around the open landing field had gravitated over to watch. Even Rex, the aging clone, had found himself a spot nearby to lean up against some crates to watch.

Kallus paid them no mind, his focus single-minded and honed in entirely on the Lasat, who was finally starting to show some wear. His fur was clung with beads of sweat that glittered in the sun. After a particularly swift parry of Kallus', he hung back for a moment glancing around at the small crowd and licking his purple lips.

For an instant, unbidden, an image popped up clear as day in Kallus’ mind. Zeb, chest bared, clung with sweat, his body undulating above him, transferring some of that sweat on to Kallus’ equally bare chest. Zeb licking those lips before pressing them against the pulse in Kallus’ neck.

In the moments Kallus’ focus had slipped Zeb had struck. Kallus regained himself just in time to dodge the initial blow but didn’t see the following sweep coming until he was knocked off his feet.

“You’re getting rusty old man,” Zeb taunted, holding the end of his staff to Kallus’ throat as a sign of victory. He stepped back and offered a hand up, which Kallus ignored, vaulting to his feet on his own.

He was mad at himself. Angry at the blush that he hoped was disguised as exertion. Peeved he’d slipped up.

“The good thing about rust is it can be knocked off,” Kallus said. “Besides, like someone I know, I too never know when to quit.”

Before Zeb could quip back, Kallus rushed him. Again the air was filled with the sound of their bo-staffs colliding, and now also the din of the people around them’s cheers and gasps.

“Got ya riled, didn’t I?” Zeb asked, with a slight snarl.

Oh if only you knew how riled up, is what Kallus wanted to say. Instead, he did a cross-strike, unseating Zeb’s staff from his grip. Would have been a victorious moment if the weapon had not been immediately caught by a foot as the lasat cartwheeled away.

“Curse your prehensile feet,” Kallus said.

Zeb simply chuckled, spinning the staff with his foot before once again tossing it back in hand. They were back at it in an instant, and this time, Kallus was going in hard. A wrist-roll — blocked. A shoulder spin — blocked. A cross strike — blocked.

It was starting to look like the match just might go on forever when a lucky move unseated Zeb’s staff in a manner which he couldn’t recover with any of his four limbs, sending it rolling away towards a line of onlookers.

“Got you, furball,” Kallus declared, with an arc of his staff stopped short of striking Zeb in the neck.

“Ya got lucky, Agent,” Zeb countered.

It was clearly meant to be playful, but it hit Kallus like a sack of DuraCrete. He’d had plenty of skeptical rebels refer to him as agent still, likely just to get under his skin. He was ashamed at how well it worked. Usually, if Zeb were there, he would correct them, reminding them it was commander, not agent.

For Zeb to use the misnomer stung more than he would ever admit, especially accompanied by the chorus of ‘ooh’s it enlisted from the crowd. The Lasat seemed to realize, his ears wilting slightly.

“And here I thought the two of you were friends now,” Rex said, uncrossing his arms from his chest as he stood up from the crates.

“We are,” Zeb said, retrieving his fallen staff. “That’s how I know he’s the only one here who can give me a run for my money.”

“I figured you knew that from the years of him trying to kill you.”

The presence of onlookers was the only thing that kept Kallus in check. A small part of him nearly wanted to cry. The rest of him wanted to throw down his bo-staff and storm off. Instead, he forced himself to take a long breath, avoiding looking directly at anyone and focusing on the weapon in his hands.

“That’s enough of that, ya hear?” Zeb jabbed his finger in the old clone’s direction.

“It was only a joke.”

“Well, I’m not laughing,” Zeb growled. Kallus looked up finally, and when their eyes met Zeb’s entire demeanor seemed to soften. “I was gonna say best 2 out of 3, but it’s getting late, and I’ve worked up a hunger. Let’s call it a tie for today.

“Yes. A tie,” Kallus agreed with a nod, offering up the training staff when the Lasat reached out a hand.

The gathered rebels were dispersing, and Rex looked as if he wanted to say something but Zeb had turned his back on him. “C’ mon,” he said, leading the way up the ramp and into the Ghost.

|-o-|

Kallus was quiet. Zeb felt a sinking sensation of guilt in his stomach as he poured his friend a tall cup of water. They were both still reasonably sweaty from the work-out, and the human’s shirt was clinging to the defined muscles of his chest. 

Zeb felt a second wave of guilt for enjoying the sight after having made Kallus so down on himself.

“I’m sorry 'bout that,” Zeb said, as he poured himself a cup. “I got carried away with the jabs.”

“It’s okay.”

Except it wasn’t. Zeb could see it in the man’s posture and how he kept his gaze away. It wasn’t okay. At some point, Zeb had learned how to read Kallus, and right now he was reading turmoil.

Deciding it might be best to let it simmer for a moment, Zeb set about heating up some leftovers from a meal he’d shared with Hera a few nights back. The truth was, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He wanted to tell the man just how much he’d enjoyed sparring with him, and what a boneheaded fool he felt having mucked it up at the last second. He wanted to tell Kallus how glad he was they were growing closer and that the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt him.

However doubt and fear played at the edges of all this, leaving Zeb silent as he cooked.

“Smells good.”

Zeb held back a sigh of relief. Kallus was breaking the silence.

“Thanks, it’s one of the few dishes I’ve learned to prepare,” Zeb said. “It’s an homage to an old Lasan dish but not the same for lack of certain ingredients.”

“I keep forgetting you cook,” Kallus said. He’d gotten up to refill his water and was looking much more composed and put together than he had done when they’d filed into the galley.

“Ah, well, everyone on board takes a turn,” Zeb said, stirring the noodle dish to keep it from burning. “Except Ezra. We discovered pretty fast he was a disaster in the kitchen.”

Kallus laughed. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Soon they were settled in across from each other at the small galley table, digging into the food. Kallus let out a satisfied hum at the first bite that sent a thrill through Zeb. He couldn’t hide the smile as he watched the man devour the food.

“Glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious,” Kallus said. “I’m still not used to eating real food.”

They lapsed into silence again, before Zeb finally plucked up the courage to bring up the subject they were both avoiding.

“Listen, I just want you to know that I don’t look at you like that anymore,” Zeb said. “As an Agent of the Empire, I mean. You’re… you’re not that guy anymore.”

“I appreciate that,” Kallus said, gently swirling noodles on his fork. “But I’m starting to accept that most people here won’t ever see me as anything other than what I was.”

“Then kriff em,” Zeb said, banging a fist on the tabletop. “Who needs em anyways?”

There was the faintest Ghost of a grin creeping onto Kallus face. He ran a hand through his hair, allowing the golden strands fall back wherever they wanted to. Before defecting Kallus had always kept his hair slicked back, as tightly wound as he had been at the time, but Zeb much preferred it now that Kallus had let his hair down—literally and figuratively.

“I thought about leaving,” Kallus said, the grin sliding back off his face. “Intelligence has a couple deep-cover spy posts that need filling.”

“You don’t mean those ones Draven sends people on do yeh?” Zeb asked. “I’ve heard stories. Rebels deep undercover, gone for months and months, some never return. Not one of those jobs?”

Kallus didn’t answer, he just looked up and met Zeb’s gaze with a sorrowful look.

“No,” Zeb growled.

“No?”

“Look, I told you when I pulled you out of the woods that you deserve a better end than all that,” Zeb said. “You already lived that life, embedded behind enemy lines, no idea if and when you might escape. Nearly lost your life once doing it. You’ve done your time.”

Fear and desperation coursed through Zeb’s veins. The last thing in the world he wanted was for the man before him to leave. With each passing day, the Lasat was becoming more and more aware of just how close he really wanted Kallus to be. 

“It’s what I’m good at,” Kallus said.

“Not the only thing you’re good at,” Zeb argued, rising to put the dishes away, not wanting to show just how upset this conversation was making him. “You’re good at what you’re doing now. No one can decipher those reports as well as you. No one else can tell what’s usual imperial communications and what is important better than you.”

“That’s true, I suppose.”

Zeb was going to clean the plates, but he thought better of it, setting them into the basin and returning to the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m being selfish,” Zeb admitted. He almost reached for Kallus’ hand on the table but stopped himself short. “If you wanna take one of those posts don’t let me stop you.”

Kallus blinked once. Then twice. Zeb could practically see the gears in his head working. “Selfish?”

His tone was curious and, Zeb was sure he imagined it, hopeful.

“Well, yeah, cuz I don’t want ya to leave," Zeb said, and when Kallus smiled at this, his heart skipped a beat in his chest. “It might surprise you, but I like having you around. We’re not so different, you and me. Plus, I don’t think you want to do all that again. I think you’re just scared.”

“Scared of what exactly?” Kallus sipped his water, gaze hot on Zeb’s face.

“Probably more than one thing, we’re at war after all,” Zeb said. “But in this case, I think you’re scared you’ll never fall into place here. That you don’t fit. You think you’ll be better off, or maybe that we’ll be better off with you away.”

Kallus laughed. “If I am this efficiently read, I don’t know how I ever managed to perform as a spy.”

“Just know ya better now,” Zeb said, a smile spreading across his own face, happy to have drawn another smile out. “We’re friends now.”

The word ‘friends’ felt clunky coming off his tongue, he feared labeling them such would mean they’d never be more.

“I’m glad we’re friends now,” Kallus said.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Zeb wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but there seemed to be a lot unsaid hanging over them. He hadn’t a clue where or how to start, even if he wanted to, and he was too kriffing afraid to try. What if Kallus’ didn’t return the affection? What if telling freaked the man out and he took one of those missions and left?

Friends, Zeb told himself,  is better than nothing.

So he went with humor. “Besides, who would I spar with?”

“Some of these kids around here might have a go, but you’ll likely destroy them,” Kallus said. “I did have fun today.”

“Me too. We’ll have to have a rematch someday,” Zeb said. “This time, though, I’m gonna win.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Kallus returned. “Anyway, I must get going, need to wrap up a couple things before bed since someone pulled me from my office when I was still working.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Zeb said, returning what just might have been the warmest smile he had ever seen grace the former imperial’s face. “See you tomorrow?”

“I must attend several briefings throughout the day, but I’ll see you for dinner at the usual time.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Kallus had stepped beyond Zeb’s line of sight to the door, but before he left, he placed a hand on Zeb’s shoulder. 

“And thank you, Garazeb, for the talk.”

“Anytime, mate.”

There was another moment, a soft squeeze of the human’s hand before he withdrew it. Then he was gone out the galley door.

“Evening, Hera.”

Zeb groaned internally when he heard this.

“Hello, Kallus.”

Clearly, neither of them stopped to chat, as Hera was brewing a pot of caf mere seconds after this.

“How much did you hear?” Zeb asked.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. It just… sounded like a conversation you didn’t want to be interrupted,” Hera said. Her lekku gave a swing as she turned to look at him, the caf pot percolating behind her. “So are you going to tell him?”

Zeb rose from the table, huffing out a breath. “I’m sure I don’t know what ya mean.” He could feel her eyes on him as he went to clean the dinner dishes. He heard her pour her cup of caf and settle in at the table. 

Hera was doing something she was known for doing to the kids, waiting him out. She was one of the most observant people Zeb had ever met, he shouldn’t have been surprised she had seen right through him. 

“It’s nothing,” Zeb said, a lame attempt at avoiding the conversation. “We’re just friends.”

“That’s… not what I asked.”

“What would be the point of telling him?” Zeb asked, reaching for a cloth to dry his hands, turning finally to face her.

Her eyebrows arched so high they nearly disappeared beneath her cap. “Would you like a list? To get it off your chest. To see if he feels the same. To keep him from taking one of those posts and leaving.”

“Or to scare him into taking one,” Zeb said. 

“So you admit you have feelings for him?”

“I didn’t admit anything.”

They stared at each other for a solid minute, him rubbing the cloth over his hands though they were already dry, her sipping her caf patiently. Hera’s gaze never left his face. Her deep green eyes slid slowly over his features, reading every line, every crease. Zeb could feel himself crumbling under the attention, all it took was one more arch of, this time, a single eyebrow to make him cave.

“Fine, I have feelings for him.” He slumped his back and trudged forward to join her at the table.

Hera straightened up, sitting down the cup and giving him a very sympathetic look. “How long?”

“I dunno,” Zeb said, and when she squinted at him suspiciously, he went on. “Since we picked him up on our way off Atollon. Maybe. Maybe since that wretched moon around Geonosis. I dunno.”

“Slow to admit it even to yourself,” Hera said, seemingly unsurprised.  

“What can I say, I’m dense.”

“I think there’s a chance that right now, you both are,” Hera said. “You could help him by telling him how you feel.” 

“That sounds great assuming he feels the same way,” Zeb said. “But you heard him, we’re friends. He sees me as a friend, maybe his only friend I—“

“Actually you said you were friends.”

“And he’s got a mess of stuff he’s still figuring out after switching sides.”

“A mess of stuff you’ve been helping him sort out.”

“And I can’t help him sort it out if I tell him I’m harboring this ridiculous crush on him and he runs away from me.”

Hera sighed. “You’re assuming his gut reaction should he not return your feelings would be to push you away,” she said. “I think that’s your insecurity more than anything.”

“It’s self-preservation, not insecurity.” Zeb rose, this conversation was getting them nowhere. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but for now what’s not broke don’t need fixin’.”

“That’s fair, I would just hate for you to miss your chance,” Hera said. “We’re at war after all. Even if he doesn’t run off into some dangerous spy-related situation, our occupation is risky. It was a close call that forced Kanan and me to finally stop pretending we were just friends. As scary as that mission was, I thank the stars for it giving us the push we needed.”

Hera went back to her caf, letting Zeb know she was letting it drop. He stood in the doorway for a couple breaths, his clawed fingers gripping the frame. 

“I’ll think about it,” he said, then he left before she could respond.

He was more grateful than usual to have the bunk to himself that night. His mind was buzzing, the conversations with Kallus and Hera turning themselves over again and again in his mind as he paced back and forth like a loth cat in a cage.

Life was simpler before Kallus. Zeb couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt even the slightest attraction to any being. Was it Lasan? That fellow guardsman he’d served within the months leading up to the end?

Thinking about Lasan made his heart hurt. He sank down onto his bunk, scrubbing a hand over his face. He mastered himself, setting to removing the armored pieces of his battle suit for bed, tucking the pieces into a drawer underneath.

There was time. Hera had a point about the war, but that didn’t mean it was a now or never scenario. Zeb could let his feelings flesh out a bit more. He could let Kallus settle into the Rebellion a bit more.

For Zeb was convinced that the former ISB agent would settle in eventually. He’d meant it when he had reassured the man earlier.

Flopping down on his back, Zeb tucked a hand behind his head, allowing one elbow to crook out. He draped the other arm across his torso and allowed his mind to drift into more pleasant thoughts.

Such as what it might be like to have Kallus there with him, head resting on his shoulder, his human arm wrapped alongside Zeb’s furry one. He wondered what that golden hair smelled like, or how the human’s facial hair would feel against him.

But above all, he wondered if, when lying in his own bed, Kallus thought of him.

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 8 |-o-|

The day Kallus received his clearance for fieldwork back, he made a beeline for the Ghost to tell Zeb. He found the Lasat lounging about the common area reclined in his wooden chair that looked so out of place on a ship, flicking lazily through something on his DataPad. He didn’t look up as Kallus approached, but spoke just as the man reached the entrance to the space.

“Hey, Hera, I ran all those diagnostics like you asked,” he said. “And cleared the cargo hold for that run we have to make.”

Kallus smiled, taking slow, deliberate steps into the compartment, waiting for the Lasat to realize his mistake. When Zeb didn’t look up from the pad, Kallus spoke.

“Well, that’s good. I was about to make a joke about you lounging around on the job.”

Zeb looked up, ears perking up as he did so. “You’re not Hera!”

“Not last I checked,” Kallus said, unable to help that smile that always seemed to creep across his face when Zeb was around.

Zeb checked the time and gave Kallus a sidelong look. “It’s hours before the end of the main shift, and you’re not working? Are you ill?”

“I came to see you because I have news,” Kallus said, sinking onto one of the round stools adjacent to the Dejarik table facing Zeb’s seat.

“Okay, what is it?” Zeb asked, his expression curious as he set aside his DataPad.

“They’ve finally deemed me fit for fieldwork. Been granted full clearance for off-world missions.”

“Oh!” Zeb said, eyes wide in surprise. Then the grin slid off of his face. “Oh…”

Kallus was confused by the response, and suddenly the Lasat looked nervous, apprehensive. He straightened up in his seat, no longer lounged back comfortably as he had been.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be excited…” Kallus felt his own enthusiasm wilting in the shadow of his friend's expression.

“I mean, I’m happy for you. It’s just…” Zeb rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture Kallus was quickly coming to associate with worry and nervousness. “What does that mean for you assignment wise? They gonna ship you off on one of those spy jobs?”

Suddenly the Lasat’s demeanor made much more sense. It was fear that Kallus was leaving and the notion it would upset Zeb so much warmed the human to his core.

“No no, nothing like that. Relax.”

To his surprise, Zeb did just that, exhaling a breath and sinking back in his seat once more. “Oh…”

“Actually, I heard you and Hera needed an extra set of hands for that supply run," Kallus said. “And last I checked I have two right here. They may be a bit rusty, though.”

He held his hands out in front of him as if offering them in service. Kallus watched as Zeb’s eyes slid from one hand to the other before tracking back up to his face. His breath caught in his throat as their eyes met.

“Seriously?” Zeb asked, and there, finally, was the enthusiasm Kallus had been hoping to see. Perhaps a bit more than he had bargained for in fact as the Lasat reached forward, taking his pale human hands firmly into his strong purple ones. “That’s great! We’re finally going to get to work together!”

Kallus’ heart felt like it just might beat out of his chest. He’d always wondered exactly how those hands would feel gripping his like this. The pads were soft, fingers firm, responding to his gentle squeeze with a squeeze of their own. 

“We are yes,” Kallus said once he’d regained the ability to speak. “I must confess I’m elated and nervous at the same time.”

“Yeh got nothing to be nervous about,” Zeb said, seemingly unconsciously he swung their hands a little bit, then another gentle squeeze. “Gonna be a piece of cake. Mind ya, it’s us, so something will surely go wrong, but between you, me ’n Rex we can handle it.”

Kallus found himself nodding, acknowledging that he was listening while he attempted to find his voice. Here they sat, hands linked like a bridge between them, and, for the first time in months, he felt stable. Secure. “I’m sure with you by my side I’ll be just fine.” 

Then Zeb seemed to suddenly realize, his eyes falling to where their hands held clasped between them, then with a stuttering breath, he slowly withdrew his. Kallus was just about to say he’d liked it, and to reach for them back when he, too, heard the footsteps.

Soon Hera was striding through the open door, looking completely unsurprised to find the pair together. She even shot an unabashed look of amusement at Zeb, who had been leaned forward out of his seat to be closer to Kallus, as he withdrew further into his wooden chair.

“Ah, just the people I was looking for,” she said, her smile was warm, welcoming. “I guess he already told you he’d be accompanying us on that supply run.”

“Sure did,” Zeb said. “Could use all the help we can get with the others still off on Mandalore. Any idea when they’re coming back?”

Hera sighed, looking haggard for the briefest of moments before re-affixing her calm expression. “Unfortunately no,” she replied. “Rebel command has been asking as well. Two Jedi is a lot of firepower to have tied up in something not strictly for the rebellion.”

“By that same token, though, how many made it here safely from Atollon due to the Mandalorians assistance in escaping?” Kallus asked.

Hera looked thoughtful. “I’ll have to remind them of that the next time they ask,” Hera said. “Anyway, we brief in the morning and ship out midday. We’ll be spending a few hours in hyperspace so pack a bag. You can have Ezra’s bunk for the night. Rex’ll take Kanan’s.”

Kallus hadn’t expected this and tried desperately not to look too elated to be bunking in the same space as Zeb. “I’ll be ready, Captain,” he said.

“No no, it’s still Hera on a mission,” she said. “Or Spectre 2. Now I’m going to get our hyperspace routes mapped. I’ll see you boys in the morning.”

“I guess I have a bag to pack,” Kallus said, rising from his seat. “See you at dinner.”

Zeb’s reaction was slow. He almost seemed to be stuck, Kallus was passing by the ladder to the top gun when the Lasat unstuck himself. “Hey, wait up a minute.”

Kallus turned, smiling he leaned on the ladder and allowed his friend to catch up.

“I just wanted to make sure, you’re… well, you’re okay bunking with me, right?” Zeb asked, there was that neck rub again.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kallus asked, confused. Bunking with Zeb was half the allure to going. If he were honest it would be even more tempting if there wasn’t even a second bunk in the room, he thought fleetingly of the evening they’d fallen asleep sitting up in the same bed. 

“I just, you know, didn’t want to presume it was okay,” Zeb said. “Hera she… I mean there’s a whole other cabin, Sabine’s.”

“I assume that she didn’t want to put me in Sabine’s because that would be an invasion of her space even with her not aboard,” Kallus said. “Even the Empire respects the difference between a female’s space and a male's. I doubt Bridger would mind me sleeping in his bunk.”

“I mean, probably not,” Zeb said, still seeming nervous. “Now if I tried to sleep in his bunk, he might have something to say. The fur. The smell.”

“I think you’ll find I don’t mind either the fur or the smell,” Kallus said. 

“You don’t? Really?”

Maybe it was the fact he was flying off the high of having his restrictions dropped. Perhaps it was the excitement of the upcoming mission. Maybe it had something to do with seeing this usually confident Lasat nervous that he might not want to bunk together, but for some reason right now Kallus was very sure of something he hadn’t been sure of up until that very moment.

He and Zeb had something unique. Something more than friendship. Something that was growing every day. Something they would get to addressing sooner rather than later.

So he stepped forward from the ladder, a hand finding a furry bicep, gently ruffling the fuzz there with his fingertips as he leaned in closer. He took in a good long whiff through his nose as if savoring the smell of a freshly cooked meal.

“Really,” he said, then before his confidence could fizzle, he disengaged, stepping back. “See you at dinner.”

Kallus couldn’t help but smile at the sputtering sound his friend was making behind him as the former ISB agent departed at top speed.

|-o-|

Zeb would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking of their interaction all afternoon. He’d spent the time, also, working to clean up his cabin on the Ghost. 

It wasn’t as if Kallus hadn’t seen the state it was typically kept in, but somehow it was different knowing he’d likely be spending a sleep cycle in it. Usually, however, he might have done something to mask the natural musk that filled the space, but now…

The Lasat were one of many creatures in the galaxy who had a particular relationship involving their natural scents. Culturally scent's connection to attraction and relationships was deeply ingrained. Zeb knew how most of the crew smelled, and if he was paying attention to it, he could identify who was nearby based solely on odor. He wasn’t as attuned to this skill-wise as he once was, perhaps because humanoid species had muted smells, possibly because of all the endless showering.

Lasat weren’t nearly so fussy about showering, and it only now occurred to him that that was likely because of their scent being tied as it was to interrelations. Before today he had known how he felt about Kallus’ smell (he, without question, liked how the human smelled, especially after a warm day, once some sweat had gotten into his clothing) but finding out the human had taken note of his smell in return was news.

Zeb dumped the debris from the small work table into a drawer beneath his bunk, and then looked around the now much tidier room. Then it occurred to him to check Ezra’s bunk, where, of course, Kallus would be actually sleeping.

A tiny irrational part of him considered piling junk on it so that the man had to share his bunk on the bottom, but that was silly, junk could be easily removed, and that wasn’t the way to go about getting Kallus into bed.

He cleared the last couple of stray items off of Ezra’s bunk and then went to find a pillow and blanket for Kallus’ use. Humans liked those sorts of things. Zeb could curl up and sleep on a floor and be comfortable, but most humans he had met had more delicate sensibilities than that.

This venture meant some extended time to just spend with Kallus. Sure they spent time together now, daily in fact, but the last time they’d spent an extended period together was when they'd gotten stranded on that frozen moon. Bearing this in mind, Zeb dug out some sabacc cards and a small holoprojector. Maybe they’d end up spending some leisure time in the bunk space just the two of them.

He knew he was overthinking it, so before allowing himself to get too carried away, he called the room ready and decided to leave for dinner.

When the cabin doors whirred open he found Hera on the other side, just raising a fist to knock, in her arm was a blanket and a pillow.

“Thought you might need these for Kallus’ bunk,” she said, but then her eyes gazed past him. “But I see you’ve already thought of that and you’ve tidied up.” She gave him a knowing smile.

“Don’t,” Zeb said, pointing at Hera as he went to slide past her.

“I think it’s cute,” she said, lekku swinging as she followed in his wake. “I hope it wasn’t presumptuous to bunk the two of you together, thought you might appreciate the time—.”

“What did I just say?” Zeb groaned as he descended the ladder into the cargo bay. Then he paused. “But yes, I do appreciate that.”

“He didn’t seem to mind the idea of bunking with you,” Hera pointed out, as her boots met with the cargo bay floor. “In fact, he seemed excited.”

“He’s just excited to get off base and into the field,” Zeb said, even though he knew that wasn’t all of it. The man had outright said how excited he was to work side by side with Zeb.

“Oh, sure,” Hera said in her most sarcastic of voices. “I’m sure he’d have been just as excited to go out with any crew. Nothing to do with you.”

Zeb sighed as they fell in step side by side on the landing field. “Not going to let this go are you?”

Hera’s smile faltered. “I’m just trying to help,” she said. “Once you see he’s just as into you as you’re into him…”

“You really think he is?”

Hera’s smile was back in full force. “I do,” she said. “But you’re right; I shouldn’t push, you two will figure it out when the time is right, just like Kanan and I did.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zeb murmured. “And thank you… for picking him for the mission.”

“Oh, that was purely selfish. Kallus is skilled, and we’re short-handed,” she said, falling back. “Have a good dinner. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that she was gone back the way they’d come, apparently having only walked that far to needle him about Kallus. He could only be annoyed for a few more seconds because then he spotted Kallus striding across the landing field, smiling and waving as they merged their two paths together towards the mess hall for dinner.

Zeb could only hope that the feeling of contentment he got simply being near his friend was mutual. Hera usually was right about most things, why not this?

|-o-|

The morning brief was short and to the point. Hera did all of the talking while Rex, Kallus, and Zeb stood sentry around her.

Kallus didn’t mind. He was shoulder to shoulder with Zeb right where he was meant to be. It was a simple venture, and he was ready and willing to get underway.

Helping to get the Ghost in the air was a surreal experience, especially when Hera had him sit down in the co-pilot’s seat.

“Wouldn’t you rather—,” he began, gesturing as Zeb had just entered the cockpit a couple of steps behind him.

Hera shook her head, lekku bouncing. “Both he and Rex already know how to fly the Ghost,” she said. “Now it’s your turn. Never know when we might need you to know.”

Words failing him, Kallus nodded, sinking into the seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Zeb, grinning widely as he took his usual spot in the swiveling seat behind Hera.

It did take a few minutes to familiarize himself with how the controls worked. Hera would call out a system, and he would activate it or call back its status. Once or twice Zeb would extend a fur-covered arm to point out a switch or a toggle for him. Very soon, they were ready to go.

“All necessary systems online,” he declared. “Ready for take-off.”

Hera hit the comm button. “Close her up, Rex.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Even in the cockpit, they could hear and feel the cargo bay door swing closed, and within seconds they were air-born. As they broke through the atmosphere, Kallus double-checked life support systems and kicked on artificial gravity.

“Ready for hyperspace coordinates,” Hera said.

“Right, right.” Kallus was navigating the controls better already, finding and inputting the coordinates into the proper spaces. “Calculations complete.”

“Let’s punch it then,” Hera said, pulling the proper lever.

Kallus watched through the viewport as the stars elongated, the engines kicking up as they accelerated, and soon the view was full of swirling glowing blue hyperspace.

“ETA 7 hours,” Hera said, swiveling out of her seat. “Make sure you get some sleep, I need well-rested crew members at the other end. I’ll take the watch out, but I get to sleep on the return trip.”

Kallus noticed she was looking at Zeb as she said this. The Lasat was chuckling. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said.

“You did good,” Hera said, placing a hand on Kallus' shoulder “Welcome to the team.”

Warmth flooded Kallus, he felt trusted and at ease, something he hadn’t fully expected to feel while onboard a ship he had once vehemently hunted.

“Thank you, Cap— Hera, for having me.”

“I’m going to grab some rations, and then I’ll relieve you,” she said. She left the cockpit, leaving Kallus technically in control of the Ghost.

The former ISB agent took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, eyes back on the viewport windows.

“You’ve missed it, haven’t ya?” Zeb asked, standing now immediately at Kallus’ back.

“I did,” Kallus said. “It’s nice to get off-planet for once.”

“It won’t be the last time I’m sure,” Zeb said. “I’m going to grab us some grub, and I’ll be in the cabin when you’re relieved.”

“Alright, thanks.”

He felt the grip of the Lasat’s hand on his shoulder squeeze then release before the sound of the door.

Kallus wondered just how his friend had known to give him some space. The level of trust both Hera and Zeb were showing him… it made his chest feel tight with emotion. How was it the people who had every right to hate him were the ones who made him feel like he was right where he needed to be: in the rebellion?

There were precious few times in Kallus’ life that he would have said he felt genuinely happy, and the longer the man continued his work alongside these people he respected so much, the happier he was.

All he could do was thank the stars, the Force, the Ashla, whatever it was, for having led him to where he was meant to be (with a generous, helpful push from the Lasat waiting for him a few cabins away).

By the time Hera returned, Kallus was grinning off into space. Fortunately, she didn’t comment on it as she relieved him.

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 9 |-o-|

"Sabacc!" Kallus declared, triumphantly, tossing down his cards.

Zeb stared, flabbergasted, both at the cards on the table and the loose, relaxed state of the man before him.

"What happened to 'I've hardly played this game'?" Zeb asked, tossing his losing cards down.

"Hardly, not never," Kallus said. "Plus, I'm very sorry to inform you that  you  have an easy tell to read."

"Do  not!"

"Though I am certain not everyone can decipher it, I have become well acquainted with you now," Kallus said. Leaning forward, he flicked one of the Lasat's pointy ears before continuing. "Your ears. Can't read everything from them yet, but I can interpret enough to know when you're bluffing."

"Karabast…" Though, internally, the fact that Kallus was learning to read his ear expressions was flattering. He'd worked with people for years who hadn't pay his ears any mind at all. Apparently, Kallus paid  very  close attention, which was welcome news as Zeb definitely paid close attention to Kallus.

"We should get some sleep."

Zeb wanted to stay up, continue enjoying their time together, but he knew that the human was right. They had five hours left, just enough for a solid block of rest, and they would need it.

Not that Kallus was waiting for input as he divested himself of his jacket and bent over to dig in his bag for something.

If Zeb wasn't admiring Kallus' backside already, he definitely was once the man tugged down his trousers, exposing boxer briefs beneath. It suddenly felt much warmer in the cabin as Kallus slid on what looked to be soft cloth pants for sleeping in patterned with thin black and grey stripes.

Afraid he might get caught gawking, Zeb unstuck himself, rising from his seat and setting about cleaning up the cards and ration trash from the table.

"I'm assuming the top bunk is me," Kallus said.

Unless you want to share with me.  "Yep."

Kallus swung up effortlessly into the bunk, and Zeb unable to keep himself from admiring the way the muscles in the human's back flexed beneath his shirt as he did so.

"Going to assume the pillow and blanket aren't actually Bridger's."

Zeb chuckled. "Nah, I put those there for you," Zeb said.

"I appreciate it."

"No problem."

As he climbed into his own bunk, Zeb glanced up to see Kallus was lying on his back, tucking the pillow beneath his head. Zeb rolled over onto his side, facing the back wall. He wasn't sure how quickly Kallus was capable of falling asleep, so Zeb stayed quiet.

After what felt like a long while, Kallus spoke.

"Do you ever think about that first time we fought each other head-on?"

Zeb blinked, as this question certainly felt like it came out of nowhere. "Over the ion disrupters? What about it?"

"Sometimes I look back at that moment, and ponder what might've happened if Bridger had not been there," Kallus said, there was a haunted quality to his words. "Had I struck you down, I'd never have abdicated from the Empire. We would never have ended up on that moon. I'd never have—."

Zeb rolled over, eyes on the bottom of the bunk above him.

"That's not what happened, Kal," Zeb said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. "What even makes you think of it?"

There was a beat of silence. "It's… it's one of my recurring dreams, or I suppose I should say nightmares," Kallus answered. "Only, Bridger is never fast enough to save you and I —to think a split second could have altered my whole destiny."

"Could have, yes, but didn't. You didn't do it, and you're here now. We both are because  this  is what was meant to be," Zeb said. "So no, I don't think about that fight or any of our fights before Bahryn because that guy wasn't you."

"I am relieved you no longer regard me as the agent."

"Agent Kallus is gone. Lieutenant Commander  Kallus is far superior in many ways," Zeb said.

"Thank you, Garazeb," Kallus said, voice now sounding sleepy. "It was fortunate Bridger  was  there. I had no way of knowing then you were to become the most important person in my life."

Zeb was struck speechless by the admission. He wanted badly to see the man's face.

"Do ya mean that?" Zeb asked. "Because you're very important to me too. More than you know."

Silence greeted him, and for a second, Zeb thought the human regretted having said it.

"Kal?"

Then Zeb heard the soft snore drifting down from above. He was equal parts disappointed and relieved. As quietly as he could, Zeb slipped from his bunk, rising up on his legs to peer at the sleeping human.

Kallus had rolled over onto his belly, head on the pillow, golden hair falling onto his face. He was genuinely handsome even in sleep, and Zeb vowed to himself that he wouldn't wait too much longer to tell the human just that.

Because the truth was Kallus was quickly becoming Zeb's world.

Sure, the Lasat still had his family, his team, his support system; however, this man… this man was his other half. There were traditions in Lasat culture to describe it, but Zeb had decided long ago not to cling to Lasan traditions.

In short, Zeb believed (now more than ever) that they were kindred souls tied together from the beginning.

Past. Present. And future.

Consumed by these thoughts, Zeb slid back into his bunk, curled up, and let sleep claim him. When the tinny buzz of his alarm went off, it felt as if only moments had passed. The compartment was silent, so silent that he knew without looking that the bunk above him was now empty.

The lasat inhaled deeply through his nose, his compartment had all the smells it usually did, with the faint addition of Kallus. It was lovely. Zeb swung his legs from the bunk and was just starting to stand when the doors to the compartment slid open.

"Ah, I was just about to wake you."

Kallus' hair was wet, he'd clearly showered, and he was carrying two cups of caf. He smiled warmly at the Lasat as he handed one over.

"Hera says we'll be dropping out of hyperspace in a few minutes," he said, setting down his cup to pick up his jacket and slide it on.

"Alright, I'm up, I'm up," Zeb said, stretching. He wondered if Kallus remembered what he'd said just before he fell asleep, but knew now wasn't time.

"She said you could take your time, I'll be in the cockpit."

The others were waiting for him as he stepped into the cockpit, downing the last of the caf.

"Nice of you to join us," Rex needled. He was in the co-pilot's seat now, with Kallus behind him occupying a chair that was often Sabine's.

"I hardly think I kept you waiting," Zeb sniped back, grinning and gesturing out the viewport, which showed they were still traveling at lightspeed.

As if on cue, they dropped out of hyperspace. 

"I'd say you were right on time," Rex said. "Barely."

"Alright, as we briefed, this is a subcontracted supply depot," Hera said. "They supply the Empire, but we aren't expecting an actual Empire presence. All recon show they use their own security forces, not troopers, mainly droids. Once we've landed, we  will  be detected before long, which is why we want to infiltrate the control room to deactivate the on-duty droids and sabotage the tractor beam. That'll be Zeb and Kallus."

"And while we do that, you and Rex'll be loading the supplies," Zeb said. It wasn't a question, more a statement to let her know that he remembered the plan.

"We'll be dropping you two here," Hera said, having brought up a map on her console. "You should easily be able to gain access the back way while we make for the landing bay. "Everyone clear?"

Rex nodded.

"Clear," Zeb echoed.

"Yes, sir," Kallus said.

Hera turned, jabbed a friendly finger in his direction. "None of that 'sir' business is necessary," she said, and then when he moved to speak again, she spoke over him. "And don't you  dare  ma'am me."

"Yes,  Hera , I'm clear on the plan," Kallus said, "and that I'm never to ma'am you if I want to survive this war."

Everyone laughed as Hera turned her attention back to flying, taking them down through the murky atmosphere of the planet.

"Masking ship's signature now," Rex said, flicking a control.

"We'll head to the hold and be ready for drop off," Zeb said, nodding towards the ladder which Kallus was closer to so that the human would lead the way down.

The former ISB agent took them a lot like Kanan would have, sliding down without touching a single rung and then cushioning the landing by bending his knees upon impact. Zeb clamored down significantly less gracefully.

Kallus was looking nervous, adjusting the pair of fingerless gloves he was wearing, checking his blaster was secured in its holster.

"Here's your comm," Zeb said, handing over the small pod before affixing his own to his belt. "It's already set to the proper channel."

"Alright, boys, get ready," Hera's voice came through the cargo bay voice comm.

"Boys? She is aware we're both more than a decade older than her?" Kallus asked.

Zeb waved a hand as if brushing the comment aside. "That's just Hera," he said. "She's been calling me one of the kids for years."

"Well," Kallus said with a mischievous grin. "You can see her point there." Then he bumped his elbow into Zeb's in a friendly manner.

"Laugh it up," Zeb said, chuckling as he hit the controls to open the cargo hatch, and there wasn't time for talking after that. Though if he was honest with himself, the rush he felt just after that wasn't entirely from the jump.

|-o-|

Kallus was familiar with the adrenaline that came with running this type of mission but wasn't quite prepared for the additional rush he would feel doing so side by side with Zeb. He'd never felt so  alive.

Getting in via the utility access had gone off without a hitch. Soon they were rapidly progressing through the facility to reach the control room, navigating carefully out of sight or any cameras along their route.

Zeb was in the lead, he brought his arm out, halting Kallus before they rounded the final corner.

"Alright, I'll go in first, catch them off guard," Zeb said, fiddling with an adjustment on his bo-rifle. "Stun anything that gets in my way. You come in a bit behind me, clean up any stragglers."

"Why do you believe that  you  should go in first  alone? "

"Because the first person in must inflict maximum damage and distraction," Zeb replied, voice low so as not to carry down the hall. "And that's me." Here the Lasat flashed a wide grin and puffed out his chest proudly."

"Remind me, who won our last sparring session," Kallus said, needling him. "Because I believe it was actually  me ."

"Well, you were bound to win one eventually," Zeb quipped. "Look, just give me a head start and then come behind, yeah?"

Kallus decided not to argue further, choosing instead to admire the way Zeb's ears twitched when they bickered playfully like that.

"How long of a head start would you like? A minute? Two?"

"Just follow your gut." Without so much as a second look back, Zeb was gone around the corner.

Gut wise, Kallus' was telling him to go immediately, and the sounds drifting around the corner to him only reinforced this. He heard a cluster of shots from Zeb's weapon followed by scuffling and what he was pretty sure to be the sound of the bo-rifle hitting the ground.

Staying crouched low, Kallus crept down the hall, and to the now ajar control room door.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" a voice asked. "Some sort of purple Wookie?"

Zeb made a terrible attempt at Shryiiwook in response, and Kallus edged the door open wide enough to get the lay of the land. Two humanoids and a security droid were still standing, at their feet lie the two humans who must have been struck by the shots Zeb  had  managed to fire off.

"Fancy weapon you've got here," the man went on, "part blaster, part energy staff, very unique."

Kallus grit his teeth, finally getting a good look at Zeb being held in place by the security droid. The Lasat was looking anywhere but the door for obvious reasons.

Rising to his feet, Kallus watched as the man turned the bo-rifle over his hands, clearly trying to figure out how to change its configuration.

"There's a release latch on the side midway down," Kallus said, clearly and matter of factly.

"Thanks," the man said, as the weapon snapped into its extended staff configuration. "Wait, who the hell are you?"

Both men spun around, but it was too late. One was stunned before even catching sight of their attacker. The other ignited the bo-rifle, but it was already being wrestled from his hands.

It only took a couple seconds after that to stun the remaining human and incapacitate the droid. This left Kallus standing among the fallen, twirling the bo-rifle absentmindedly as he did one final proximity check of their surroundings.

"What was that about you needing to inflict  maximum damage? " Kallus asked, unable to keep the mischievous grin that turned up the edges of his lips.

Zeb was shouldering away the now limp security droid, having the decency to look at least half ashamed. "Well, I wanted to leave you something to do."

"Of course." With a final spin, Kallus offered the bo-rifle back to Zeb who took it. There was a beat of time where they took each other in, as if assessing the other was okay, before they both ground back into motion.

Kallus' job was simple but integral to the success of the mission. Dashing to the bank of computer terminals, he first attempted to gain primary access to the system.

"Looks like I'm going to need a code key."

Zeb knelt, hunching over one of the unconscious men so that he could pluck a code cylinder from a front breast pocket. "Try this one," the lasat called, tossing the small device. Kallus caught it without so much as looking up and jabbed it into the proper port.

"I'm in," he declared, fingers flying over keys as he worked. "Taking down defenses for the landing bay now." It was almost too easy, which he supposed shouldn't be a surprise. The facility might supply imperials but it was being run by civilians. The security was mainly automated, they'd known that much before arriving. The unconscious men littering the floor around them were the only ones around.

The Lasat was watching him, and when Kallus nodded, Zeb pulled his comm unit off of his belt and thumbed it on. "Spectre 2, you're clear for landing."

"Copy that, Spectre 3, we'll see you there," came Hera's reply.

"We better get moving."

"Just one moment," Kallus replies back, eyes never leaving the console display. 

"I'm sure you're doing something very clever but the longer we take, the more likely it will be that—"

"Done," Kallus said, pulling the cylinder from its port and pocketing it. "I  was  doing something  very  clever, I assure you. Let's go."

They traversed empty halls, past the occasional security droid lying disabled on the floor. Zeb was gaining a lead, his unusual gait covering more ground faster than Kallus could. The former imperial was forced to sprint to keep up, ignoring the faint twinge his lousy knee gave as he did so. 

The cargo ramp was just hitting the landing bay floor when the pair ran through the final door. Soon Rex was marching down it with an empty hover lift. By the time Kallus reached the ship, he could hear Zeb loading things into the first lift. They were done stacking it before Kallus returned with the second, and as Rex shoved off, Zeb turned and began loading the fresh cart. 

The crew worked relentlessly and efficiently to load up the cargo. Everything was going perfectly when suddenly the hangar bay erupted in the sound of alarms. 

"Specter 4, I thought you disabled the alarms!" Hera's voice was barely audible over the never-ending klaxon blare. 

"We did, we did, I swear!" Zeb said into his comm, then covering it with his palm, he turned to Kallus, "We  did,  didn't we?"

"This was me," Kallus said, holding up one hand to halt Zeb from taking measures to remedy the situation. Kallus retrieved his comm unit from his belt to speak to Hera in the cockpit. "I re-engineered their alarm system to work in our favor, it was rigged to trip in the event anyone attempted to log into a console or re-activate a security droid."

"In other words, we're about to have company," Hera responded. "Alright, boys, time to go, disconnect the fuel line, get the last of those shield generators on board and let's get out of here while we still have the chance."

There were only four generators left to load, Zeb seized the nearest, kicked the anti-gravity lift system on and pushed the device off in the direction of the cargo ramp. 

Despite the blaring alarms, the frantic nature of what they were doing, and the imminent danger, Kallus loved every moment. He was in his element in a way he hadn't been since he climbed, beaten and battered, into that escape pod and made his final departure from the Empire. The adrenaline flowed steadily in his veins, surging in particular moments such as when Zeb's arm brushed his as the third shield generator transferred hands. Adrenaline and the usual rush of arousal mixed with affection that usually accompanied close proximity with the lasat. 

Kallus had never felt more alive.

Barely distinguishable over the alarms, a metallic grinding noise began on the other side of the final blast door between them and those who would stop them. Zeb, with the best hearing of the lot, heard it first.

"Sounds like company's nearly here," he said.

"Time to call it," Hera's voice said through the comms. "Rex, nose gun. Zeb, Kallus, secure the cargo bay, and then I'll need one of you in the cockpit."

Zeb shoved the last generator up the final bit of incline and managed to reach the controls by the time Kallus joined him.

The cargo bay door began its swing up to close, just as the guard droids burst onto the landing platform. Zeb was looking a the door controls, and clearly Rex hadn't made it into the nose gun yet. Laser fire rang out, and Kallus had to act on instinctual impulse. He was able to reach the Lasat in three long and quick strides, colliding with his shoulder and bowling them both over.

"Karabast," Zeb gasped, his back now to the deck, Kallus on top of him as deadly fire from the droids streaked over their heads. "That's twice you've saved my ass on this mission."

The bay door closed with a resounding thud, and Kallus finally looked down.

"Ah, well, it was partially selfish," he said. "I've grown attached."

Zeb's ears flicked back in surprise, a flash of confusion crossing his face before being replaced with a smile. "To me or my ass?" He asked, with a barking laugh.

"I meant  you , but now that you mention it," Kallus said, unable to stop himself from licking his own lip. He was suddenly very aware of the fact he was  on top  of Zeb, and though when they'd landed, the lasat's arms had flown wide, suddenly Kallus felt hands on his side and back.

"Gentlemen, the flirting can wait," Hera's voice rang out. "Zeb, I'm going to need you in the top gun, Kallus, with me in the cockpit."

For a few moments, they'd forgotten themselves, their proximity drowning out the laser fire outside and the sound of the engine's revving up as they prepared for taking off. Now they scrambled up off of the cargo bay floor, as suddenly their surroundings seemed to come screaming back to life.

The ship shuddered around them as they climbed the ladder, the Ghost was off the ground by the time they reached the main deck. They paused a moment at the foot of the next ladder up into the nose gun, and Zeb looked down at him.

Kallus wasn't entirely sure what he read in the lasat's expression, but he wanted to think it was fondness. There were things he wished he had words to say, but even if he had those words, there wasn't time. The ship gave another jolt, causing Kallus to sway into his fellow, who gave him a squeeze one might nearly call a hug before they split up to attend to their duties.

Chapter Text

"Shields are down," Hera shouted, as Kallus skid into the cockpit at full speed. “Moments like these are when I miss Chopper."

"On it," he returned, dropping to his knees in front of the panel in question, prying it open and setting to work. “I did disable the power to the tractor beam. So if we manage to fly beyond the range of the ground canons.”

"That was the original idea. Unfortunately, it looks like they have air support.”

The nerve-grating squeal of TIE Fighters met Kallus' ears, and he very nearly panicked. "I was under the impression that we weren't expecting an Empire presence here," he croaked out fingers fumbling in the wires he was meant to be mending.

“They look to be modified non-imperial," Hera said, “I understand the concern but get those shields up, or it won't matter if they're Imperial or not.”

Doing repair work in a crunch was stressful enough without being jostled from one side to another as Hera flew evasively. He could hear the voices of Rex and Zeb as they called out targets, but Kallus had to block it all out and focus on the task at hand.

If you fail at this, you're all dead, including Zeb. Kallus mind supplied unhelpfully. The bulkheads around him shuddered, lights flashed across the cockpit viewport, and Kallus' breaths were coming closer and closer together. I know, that's why I need to focus right now. Three wires, tangled together, untangle them, find the one to the generator.

He did so taking care to slow his breaths so that by the time he made the first actual splice, his hands had stopped shaking.

“Zeb, incoming at point four five, if they hit us like that again without shields, we're toast.”

The wires sparked as they made contact, Kallus bit back a curse as it singed his fingertips. He made himself continue to take long, slow breaths, fingers diligently twining wires together, wrapping them before attempting to flip the breaker.

The shields audibly buzzed into life, rendering Hera’s statement in the affirmative unnecessary. By the time Kallus had reassembled the cover and heaved himself up off the deck, their situation was looking much improved. Without needing to be asked, he set about activating systems and calling out levels.

"We need hyperspace coordinates calculated,” Hera proclaimed, before pulling the Ghost into a spiral, the horizon outside spinning as they gained altitude and burst through the atmosphere into open space.

“Calculations are already in progress, Captain,” Kallus replied. “I mean, Hera.”

“Hear that boys, we need an opening, let’s make it happen.”

They were in a spiral again, and to be honest, after years on larger vessels, it was thrilling to be on a ship being piloted so daringly. Kallus glanced over at the Twi’lek, and she was honed in, focused, and somehow entirely at ease. Hera was in her element, and it showed.

“Oh, I’ll get you that opening,” Zeb growled over comms. 

It didn’t take long before he managed to get a good shot on one of the TIEs, it exploded, and the Ghost flew straight through the aftermath before punching into hyperspace.

|-o-|

As the view out the dome-shaped viewport shifted from one of inky blackness to the calming swoosh of blue hyperspace, Zeb let out a relieved sigh. The whole thing could have possibly gone better, but overall it definitely hadn't gone as badly as it could have either.

In an ideal world, he wouldn't have needed saving twice, though even that wasn't as bad as it could have been. Especially since that last save had landed Kallus on top of the lasat. A treat Zeb had not anticipated and would love to experience again, perhaps in a more private moment with less interruption. And had Kallus been about to admit that he liked Zeb’s butt?

The notion was exciting, so it was with enthusiasm that the lasat descended the ladder down from the top gun.

“Nice shot, big guy,” Rex said, as Zeb stepped into the cockpit. “I was this close to getting one, but still. Nice shot.”

"Next time, I'll let you have the glory, eh?"

Hera had already risen from the pilot's seat. “Alright, as discussed, I'm now going to get some rest,” she said."Rex too, and you and Kallus will man the ship in case anything comes up. Excellent work, all of you."

Zeb acknowledged this with a nod, and Hera left the space. Kallus was still focused on the monitor in front of him, but he looked up when Zeb reached his side. The smile that spread across the human's face even went so far as to warm his eyes.

“I don't know about you, but I could use some caf,” Zeb said. "Yeah?"

"That would be great,” Kallus agreed.

“I'll take some caf as well,” Rex said, having sunk down into Sabine's usual seat.

“Thought you were off-duty until we get back to base,” Zeb asked, not wanting to fully admit to the old clone that he'd been hoping for the time alone with Kallus.

“I know, but you know they engineered us to use less rest."

Zeb hid his disappointment, and if Kallus was feeling any of his own frustration, it didn't show on his face. Clearly, neither of them were going to tell the old man to skedaddle, so the lasat left for the galley with a casual "Three cafs, coming right up.”

The Lasat didn't even like leaving the pair alone, they hadn't particularly warmed to each other yet. Not that there wasn't a good reason. Kallus' first interactions with Rex had been attempting to kill him and his fellow clones in the Seelo system. Not the best first impression, then again Zeb's first moments with Kallus had been the then ISB agent snatching up Ezra when the Specters were attempting to escape an imperial vessel.

Frowning at the memory, Zeb jabbed the button on the caf brewer to kick it on. As it percolated, he leaned on the counter and tried to think of creative ways to get Rex to leave the cockpit. He could suggest an inventory of the supplies they just acquired, though usually AP-5 took care of that on arrival. Perhaps the controls for the cargo ramp could use a diagnostic run on them?

All of his schemings died when he returned to the cockpit, however, to find Kallus and Rex having a somewhat serious conversation.

"Just felt like we got off on the wrong foot," Rex was saying. “That day, you and Zeb were sparring."

Zeb halted just outside the already open cockpit doors, the three cups of caf held between both hands. He heard Kallus chuckle before replying, "fairly sure we got off on the wrong foot back on Seelo, not that I would blame you if you held that against me."

"I did, at first, but now ..." Rex let out a sigh, “I realize I was being stubborn, Hera and Zeb have nothing but positive things to say about you, Zeb in particular."

“Oh, well, you see. He and I,” Kallus began to mumble. Zeb felt this was the ideal moment to interrupt, so he made his presence known with a clearing of his throat before forging into the compartment. Kallus looked up, and unless he was mistaken, Zeb saw a slight blush on the human's cheeks.

"Thank you, Garazeb," Kallus said, as he took the proffered caf. The way it was said implied that the former imperial was grateful, not just for the beverage.

"Good to see the two of you playing nice,” Zeb half-joked.

"We're all on the same side now,” Rex said. "And I’d like to start acting like it. In fact, did I hear correctly that you’ve got some sabacc cards on board?”

And so, despite Zeb’s want otherwise, they spent the return trip playing cards the three of them in the cockpit. Kallus didn’t seem to mind, though the lasat liked to think he played the game a little less eagerly than when they’d played just the two of them. 

There’d be time to discuss whatever it was that was happening between them later. Even if in quiet moments, Zeb’s mind drifted back to the cargo hold, Kallus on top of him, implying that he was attached to the lasat’s backside. Occasionally Kallus would catch his eye overtop of their hands full of cards. The human would bite his lip as they gazed perhaps a bit longer than usual into each other's eyes while Rex was distracted. 

Hera emerged from her cabin as the Ghost dropped out of hyperspace, and the sun was well past set by the time they met with the landing field. 

“Zeb and I will handle debrief,” Hera said, as they descended the ladder. “Thanks for the good work today.”

“It was a pleasure,” Kallus said. “I have missed fieldwork. I’m here if ever you need another set of hands-on a mission.” 

With that, he was gone, off in the direction of his quarters, leaving Zeb standing at the foot of the cargo ramp itching to follow.  

When Hera summoned him to the central command

 briefing room the next day, Zeb didn't know what to expect. Their debrief had gone fine, and he couldn't imagine the need to answer follow up questions. It hadn’t been that complex of a mission. His confusion only grew when he saw the volume of people present once he arrived.

"What's wrong?” Zeb asked when he reached Hera. “Did something happen?" The only thing he could think of was some sort of emergent situation with the rest of the team on Mandalore.

"Nothing like that,” Hera said, pulling him to stand next to her. "But something is about to happen that I thought you might want to be here for.”

Mon Mothma activated the base-wide PA system at that moment, bending just low enough over the microphone to speak, and her voice could be heard throughout the base. "Lieutenant Commander Kallus, please report to the briefing room. Lieutenant Commander Kallus, please report to the briefing room."

“Hera, what is this all about?”

"Shhh, you'll see. Look there he is.”

Kallus looked as confused a Zeb felt. The former ISB agent waded into the room, his brow furrowed slightly as he attempted to work out just what the purpose of the meeting he'd just been paged to join was.

“Commander Kallus, over here if you please," Mon Mothma said, beckoning him forward.

The man did so, coming over to stand between Mon Mothma and General Dodonna, who was wearing a self-satisfied smile. Kallus looked like he was about to ask what the kriff was going on when he caught Zeb's eye.

Shrugging, the lasat tried to intimate with merely a look that he knew no more about what was going on than Kallus did. Fortunately, they weren't to be left hanging for long General Dodonna stepped forward and spoke loudly so that room at large could hear.

"Lieutenant Commander Kallus, in light of your excellent service to the Rebel Alliance both as Fulcrum within the confines of the Empire and as an intelligence officer here with the Alliance,” the General began, fishing something out of a pocket, "and on behalf of the Massassi Group and Phoenix Squadron, it is my honor to grant you the rank of Captain. Congratulations, Captain Kallus.”

The room burst into applause that Zeb was late to join because he was too busy being amused by the flabbergasted look on Kallus’ face as General Dodonna placed the insignia for Captain onto Kallus’ jacket.

"You're right. I did want to be here for this,” Zeb said, chuckling as he clapped. 

Kallus was busy having his hand shaken by what appeared to be every member of Rebel Command. Still, he must have heard Zeb's voice because they met eyes again across the space. The smile Kallus returned was brilliant and overwhelming and made the lasat feel suddenly very warm. Again his mind drifted back to the pair of them on the cargo bay floor, Kallus on top of him. That smile had been different. Private and revealing.

Zeb would give anything to see that smile again.

Maybe they could have dinner somewhere other than the packed commissary that evening, finally, talk about whatever had blossomed between them.

"Did you know?”

Suddenly Kallus was there with them, still smiling, but also jabbing an accusatory finger in Zeb’s direction.

"I found out the same moment you did, I swear,” Zeb said. "Tell him, Hera."

Hera ignored this request, instead shaking Kallus’ hand. "It's well-earned, congrats."

"Why do I suspect you had a hand in this?” Kallus asked her.

"Just a small one, your work did most of the heavy lifting," Hera said. "Well, that and Zeb's glowing remarks about your performance on this last mission during debriefing. How many times did he save your purple backside again?” 

As Hera spoke, she looped her arm in Zeb’s and gave his bicep a squeeze. Zeb was very grateful that no one could see the blood rushing into his cheeks. One of the fortunate things about having fur is that it showed less. No bruises or blushes showing through for others to see.

"Once or twice," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Maybe three times, I wasn’t counting."

Kallus was laughing, and the sound was glorious.

“Regardless, it’s well earned, and we will need to celebrate," Hera said. "Dinner, on the Ghost tonight, not taking no for an answer.” Releasing Zeb, she gave him one last smile before striding out the door, leaving the pair of them very nearly alone, aside from a couple captains having a separate conversation over a data console.

“What's wrong?"

Zeb had still been looking in the direction Hera had gone and trying not to be disappointed. “Oh, it's silly,” he said. "Just thought I'd have you to myself for dinner tonight is all.” The moment the words left his mouth, he wanted to shove them back in. It was what he meant, but once he said it, he felt like perhaps he'd revealed too much.

Kallus, however, was beaming and blushing a bit, also. It was hard to see beyond his facial hair, but there definitely seemed to be some redness to the new Captain’s cheeks. He didn't say anything, which was unfortunate because in the vacuum of quiet left there Zeb had begun to ramble.

"That came out weird. I just meant you know us. Thought we’d, I mean on the return trip Rex hung around, not that that is a problem, just thought it’d be us, but …” Zeb tried to tell himself to stop talking Kallus was still smiling, eyebrows raised, seemingly waiting patiently for the lasat to finish. “Anyway, congrats. That was what I meant to say: congrats.”

Zeb offered his hand, and Kallus shook it.

"Thank you, Garazeb," he said. "You know I wouldn’t be here without you. I'd be neither still alive nor with the rebellion, if it wasn't for you."

"You don't know that."

"I do, though," Kallus returned. They were still shaking hands, though slowly, and slower still, until they were just standing there, hands clasped. Zeb didn't want to let go, but he knew he needed to.

"Well, I better get to the ship because I bet Hera needs help cooking that dinner,” he said, allowing his fingers to loosen their grip, palms separating, hands falling back to sides.

“I’ll just wrap up a couple things before joining you,” Kallus said. 

“Looking forward to it,” Zeb said. 

|-o-|

Kallus was torn as he stepped out onto the open landing pad at the center of Yavin-4’s rebel base. His dearest friend, Zeb, was smiling broadly, standing in conversation with the entire Ghost crew for the first time in weeks. Kallus wanted to be happy for the lasat, had been trying desperately to be happy for his friend since Hera has gotten the call midway through their dinner the night before, but in the back of his mind, a voice of selfish doubt had risen.

Now that he has all of them back, he will have no use for you.

He paused, pushing this thought away before making the final approach to the group. He plastered a smile on his face and kept himself from looking immediately to Zeb.

“A reunion! How nice,” he said. The small crowd parted, looking to him as he joined them. He had to ignore the mildly annoyed looks the younger of the party gave him. “But as Commander Bridger suggests, it is time to get to work. Mon Mothma has requested your presence.”

Kallus fell back, allowing the Spectres to move ahead of him together. Zeb was laughing at something Ezra had said, letting the young Jedi pound his furry purple arm in a friendly way.

The former ISB agent couldn’t help but wonder if he and Zeb would ever be able to have a friendship so open and public. As if sensing his thoughts, the Lasat turned as they entered the temple, meeting Kallus’ gaze with a warm smile.

Kallus was grateful no one was looking at him as a blush warmed his cheeks behind his facial hair.

The briefing was about a mission to Jalindi, one Kallus had a hand in steering. He still got a rush whenever he managed to be actually helpful to the rebellion. There had been a time when he feared his usefulness would expire once he escaped the Empire. He was always relieved to discover otherwise. 

As the meeting broke up, with Mon Mothma pulling the young and overeager Bridger aside, Kallus looked for Zeb, hoping perhaps to walk with him for a bit. However, his friend was now in conversation with Sabine Wren and didn’t even look back as they wandered off from the meeting.

Kallus sighed. He would just have to hope to see Zeb at dinner in the mess hall like usual. There was no point dwelling on it. Instead, he occupied himself with work, finishing some reports and clearing out his inbox. This was where he was when the projected image of Saw Gerrera turned up to chastise Mon Mothma, he heard about it second hand from a colleague before departing for dinner.

The thought of Gerrera and his team of partisans gaining access to Yavin in any way made his chest feel tight with worry. He pushed these feelings down and carried himself towards dinner. 

There was no sign of the Lasat around the mess hall, so Kallus got himself a tray, went through the food line, and proceeded to sit at their usual table. He shrugged off his jacket, allowing it to drape onto the back of the chair.

He picked at his food, not wanting to rush through in case Zeb was simply running late. He had to admit food with the rebellion, at least on base, was much better than it ever was in the Empire, where he lived of ration bars. Still, it was more enjoyable with company.

Kallus checked the entry door to the mess what for must have been the dozenth time. Unfortunately, this didn’t go unnoticed by the group of young rebels at a nearby table.

“Look, he’s missing his man,” one said, loudly.

Kallus froze, eyes down on the table.

“What’s the matter, agent? Your furry alien boyfriend dump you now that his crew is back?”

He knew he shouldn’t let it get to him. These were kids. The oldest at the table was half his age, but they’d managed to hit on a very genuine fear of Kallus’.

Had Zeb been there, he would have silenced them with a menacing growl that would have had them all looking scared while simultaneously sending a warm zing through Kallus that he couldn’t quantify.

“Did you leave the Empire for that purple thing, agent?”

“And now he’s gone and ditched you already.”

Kallus couldn’t take it anymore, it felt like the walls of the mess hall were closing in around him. There was a strange pressure in his chest that was making it hard to breathe. He staggered to his feet, and rushed away from the table, haphazardly dumping his tray before evacuating the mess hall entirely.

His vision was tunneling, he hardly noticed any of his surroundings as he rushed away to his quarters. Ducking between people heading for dinner, he dodged around some rebels pushing carts of supplies through the hangar bay. 

Kallus nearly tripped over the door jam into his room, slamming the door behind him. He leaned against it, breathing hard, the room swimming around him, only just noticing he’d left his jacket behind.

Kallus couldn’t make himself care as he slid down to sit on the floor.

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 11 |-o-|

“So let your heart hold fast,

For this too shall pass,

Like the high tide takes the sand.”

        - Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Fort Atlantic

Zeb was running late for dinner. He hadn’t meant to, but now that the whole family was back together, getting away hadn’t been easy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with the crew, he did, but he also had a standing dinner date with Kallus, and he didn’t want to miss it.

He hadn’t missed it in weeks.

Therefore, despite having been force-fed dinner on the Ghost, he still slipped away to hopefully catch Kallus before he left the mess hall. He would sit and watch the man eat for all he cared so long as he was there. 

As it turned out, this wasn’t meant to be. Kallus was rushing from the place, his jaw set behind his golden facial hair, his lips twisted into a frown.

“Kal!” Zeb called, attempting to flag him down, but the man was moving too fast, practically pushing a passerby to the side to get through. “Hey, Kal!”

A hollow feeling settled in Zeb’s gut as his friend looked very thoroughly upset, and through the mess hall doors, he could just hear cackling laughter. The lasat stalked through the entrance. The group of young rebels didn’t notice him at first, too busy congratulating each other and laughing.

Zeb was about to make a beeline for them when he saw that Kallus’ jacket was hanging on a chair at their usual table and automatically went to retrieve it. He picked it up, gingerly in his hands, resisting the urge to smell it as he tucked the garment under his arm.

“Look, there he is!”

“You just missed your little boyfriend, he ran off on you.”

He recognized the group. They’d heckled Kallus before when they thought the lasat wasn’t around. Kallus always did well about ignoring them, but clearly, they’d managed to say something to get under his skin, or he wouldn’t have fled the place the way he had. 

They were still going, too, but the lasat was having a hard time hearing them over the angry pumping of his own heart in his ears. Zeb rose up to his full height and growled a guttural sound from deep in his chest. That managed to shut them up. He was more than half tempted to go over and read them the riot act but remembering the look of distress he’d seen on Kallus’ face he decided he had more important places to be. So with one last scowl at the transgressors, and keeping Kallus’ jacket tucked firmly under his arm, he departed the mess hall as quickly as he had come. 

He assumed Kallus had sought refuge in his private quarters, so he went there first. 

Zeb knocked gently on the door and received no response. His ears tilted forward, listening hard, and he was sure he could hear labored breathing on the other side of the door, so he knocked again. Still no answer, but the lasat has decided he wasn’t leaving if it took all night to get Kallus to answer. 

“Kal, you in there?” he asked, leaning his forehead against the door. “It’s me.”

A moment of silence, and then muffled shuffling as Kallus came and opened the door. He looked a mess, eyes bloodshot— had he been crying? —hair mussed. Physically he at least looked okay, no black eyes or split lips this time. 

“What are you doing here?” Kallus asked this while looking at a spot somewhere near Zeb’s feet.

The lasat was taken aback, as it almost seemed as if Kallus didn’t want him there. Zeb knew this couldn’t be true, reminded himself of how close he and Kallus had become, how close they were to possibly becoming something more than friends. Or at least he hoped they were close. 

“Was running late for dinner, so I must’ve missed ya,” he said, then he held out the jacket. “You left this behind. Can... can I come in?”

Kallus’ shoulders lifted slightly upon hearing Zeb had shown up for dinner. He took the proffered article of clothing, nodded weakly, and backed up to let Zeb in. He turned his back to his guest, going to hang his jacket up on a peg on the wall. 

Zeb had never been inside Kallus’ quarters before, they were sparse but not altogether unwelcoming. There was a desk to one side with a DataPad resting on it, and a bed set perpendicular to this.

“You okay?” Zeb asked as Kallus proceeded to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m fine.”

Zeb pulled out the chair from the desk, turning it to face his friend before sitting upon it. He wanted to reach out for him, but Kallus’ posture was discouraging. The way his shoulders sagged, his back slumped, gave Zeb the impression it would be unwelcome.

“Karabast, Kal, that’s clearly not true,” Zeb said, scooting his chair a little bit closer. “What did those idiots say to you?”

“It’s stupid,” Kallus said, shaking his head, eyes still averted. “Don’t worry about it.”

“How can I do that when you won’t even look at me?” Zeb asked. Don’t turn those beautiful eyes that I love to the floor, Kal. He wanted to say the last bit, but the Lasat was still so unsure where Kallus actually stood on the emotional front with him. They’d become close, they’d even started blatantly flirting on that last mission, but that didn’t mean the former imperial was ready to take the next step. 

Kallus let out a sigh and finally looked up at Zeb. “When you weren’t at dinner, they started to poke fun,” he said. “Asked if my ‘furry alien boyfriend’ had dumped me now that his crew was back.”

Zeb blinked, the word boyfriend hitting him like a freight train. “Why’d that upset you?” Zeb asked gently, almost afraid of the answer. “Because they called me your-.”

“What? No!” Kallus answered, then his face flushed red. “That’s not what...” He clenched and unclenched his hands. “It’s that I was worried it was true... that now that you’re crew - your family - is back you... I mean, I know you’ve been spending so much time with me because they were all off-world.”

“You don’t really think that’s the only reason, do you?” Zeb asked, reaching forward to place a hand on Kallus’ shoulder at last, glad when it wasn’t shrugged off. 

“I don’t know.”

There was silence after this, as fear and hope warred internally in Zeb’s chest. If ever there was a moment to come clean, it was now. If ever there was a moment to take the subtext between them and state it outright, it was now. 

“Anyway, they just struck a nerve is all,” Kallus said, sighing and wringing his hands. “I’m closer to you than I am to anyone else on this base, and they managed to wake a fear of losing that and a fear that I’ll never be fully accepted by the rebellion. I just… I wasn’t sure if you were coming, and I needed to remove myself from the situation before the walls closed in on me.”

“Kal...”

Zeb felt a tug at his heartstrings, and before thinking anything through, he rose and began removing the armored pieces of his battle suit. He gently stacked his wrist guards on the desk before moving on to his shoulder armor, trying not to fumble too much with the fastenings. 

“What are you doing?” Kallus asked, looking up at him confused, his eyes glassy with tears he’d been clearly fighting to keep in ever since the lasat had arrived. 

“You’re not gonna lose me just because the crew is back,” Zeb said, discarding first one, then the other shoulder braces before sliding onto the bed next to Kallus. “And honestly, I’d be honored to be your furry alien boyfriend, you hear me?”

Then the lasat pulled the man next to him into a full embrace, strong fur-covered arms encircling Kallus. Kallus let out a weak sob before clinging to Zeb as if his life depended on it. “Garazeb...“

Zeb would never tire of hearing that name fall from Kallus’ lips. He tightened his arms around him, resisting the urge to nuzzle his face into the human’s neck. He’d said what he meant, he would be proud to become more for Kallus than just a friend, and he waited with bated breath to hear if the human felt the same.

|-o-|

The moment hung over them, Kallus staring back into Zeb’s bulbous green eyes. His heart was slowly opening to it, he saw only earnestness looking back at him. How long had he wanted to believe this was what they both wanted that even now when it was staring him in the face, he was afraid to believe it?

Kallus decided to follow his gut.

He turned his face into Zeb’s hand, pressing a tenuous kiss to his padded palm. “I would love to have you as my ‘furry alien boyfriend’.” A smile started to spread across his face at the thought. “And honored to be your less furry human boyfriend.”

Zeb let out a chuckle. “You have a fair amount of fur yourself, Kal,” he said, brushing his clawed fingers gently through Kallus’ facial hair. For a few moments, the man was captivated, lost in Zeb’s eyes, savoring the fond touch to his face, still in disbelief that this was actually happening.

“That doesn’t sound like a complaint,” Kallus said, once he’d regained the ability to speak. He gently returning the caress, feeling the difference between Zeb’s silky fur and slightly rougher facial hair.

“It wasn’t.” Zeb’s eyes had drifted closed, but suddenly he was gazing back at Kallus. A quiet fell over them, as they sat on the precipice, the lasat looked as if he was deciding, weighing out his options. Kallus recognized the expression because he suspected he was wearing one similar. His eyes drifted down to a pair of lavender lips, pressed into a nervous smile that only broadened once Zeb realized where he was looking. 

The lasat let out the faintest of growls as he ducked to nuzzle into Kallus’s neck. Gasping, Kallus took in the sensation of fur, and lips and some teeth as Zeb nuzzled up and down the length of Kallus’ neck before switching sides. 

“Is this one of the ways lasat show romantic affection?” Kallus asked breathlessly, shifting ever so slightly to give his partner more access. “It’s nice.”

“Yes,” Zeb breathed out against the skin of Kallus’ clavicle, having pushed the collar of his shirt aside to reach it. Each exhale sent waves of warmth across his skin. “It also transfers scent. Another lasat would smell me on you and know...” Zeb trailed off as if thinking better of saying it.

“That I’m yours,” Kallus finished. He pushed Zeb back, and for a fleeting moment, the lasat looked fearful, as if he’d said the wrong thing. Quickly, Kallus ducked down to return the favor. Zeb’s neck was covered in silky smooth fur, and the smell of him was intoxicating, compelling him to press his nose right under the curve beneath Zeb’s chin and inhaled.

Kallus trailed kisses down, nibbling gently on a spot here or there, stopping to smile when he felt the gentle rake of claws through his hair. “And now you’re mine. Though I don’t think humans can scent like that.”

They drifted back into a quiet hug, Kallus allowing his fingers to drift through Zeb’s fur. He stroked behind his ears, along the curve of his shoulders, enjoying the soft purr this enticed from the lasat. They sat like this for a long time, enjoying the warmth of each other.

The longer they sat though, the more doubt crept into Kallus’ veins. How can I let Zeb be with me, of all people, a man responsible for the death of all of his people? The thought alone was like a punch to the gut, causing him to inhale so sharply it was an audible gasp as he drew away. 

“What is it?” Zeb asked, worry evident in the expression on his face, his ears flicking out of sync. 

“We... we can’t,” Kallus said, standing up from the bed, putting space between them, backing away.

Zeb looked stricken, his arms falling to his sides where moments before they had been wrapped around the human. “Why?”

“I don’t deserve you,” Kallus said simply. It was the truth, and they both knew it. “I am the reason you’re one of the last lasats left. I’m the reason you can’t have someone from your own species, and I can’t.”  Realizing he was shaking, Kallus pulled his arms against his chest, turning his back on Zeb because he couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. Couldn’t bear to see the disappointment. Couldn’t let himself think about the reasons behind it. “I should be alone. That’s... that’s all I deserve.”

“And what about what I deserve?” Zeb growled. Kallus heard the squeak of the bed as the lasat stood. “What about what I want?” Zeb had come closer, his voice low, gravelly. Surely his ears were pinned back against his head.

Kallus didn’t dare speak. He had hunched in on himself as if scrabbling for warmth though the room was not cold. Though his eyes were aimed at the wall, he didn’t see it. 

“Karabast, Alex, will you look at me?”

Kallus blinked. No one had used his first name in years, let alone shortening it. He unfolded, turning to meet those large green eyes, heart racing in his chest.

“Do I deserve to be alone because you’d prefer to punish yourself rather than see what we could be?” Zeb asked, stepping forward, a furry arm extended to touch the human’s shoulder. The lasat didn’t come any closer, nor did he try to pull Kallus to him. He just stood there with his fingers putting steady, reassuring pressure where they draped across the faded cloth of Kallus’ shirt.

“You deserve the galaxy,” Kallus said, bringing his hand up to cover Zeb’s or cover as much as it could, bearing in mind their size differences. “I just worry I’m not capable of giving it to you. Or even worthy of trying.”

“One day, you’ll see yourself the way I do,” Zeb said, moving nearer, “And until then, I will be here to talk you down from leaving me for your own delusions of self-sacrifice.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” Kallus asked, in mock defiance, his heart quickening as Zeb loomed over him, pushing back the golden hair that had fallen into the human’s eyes.

“Yeah, I will.”  Then Zeb kissed him, tugging their bodies flush together. Kallus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed and was pretty sure he’d never been kissed like this. A tender, lingering press of lips that eased naturally into something deeper as they explored how they fit together. They were both breathless by the end of it, leaning against one another. “I want you, Kal. I don’t care about the things you’ve done. I’ve done things too.”

“Nothing nearly as bad as I-“ 

Zeb brought his hand up to cup Kallus’ face, stemming the oncoming flood of negative words that were set to spill from the former imperial’s mouth. “The stuff you did, that was a different man,” he said. “Not my Kal. You... you changed after Bahryn, and hell, so did I! We... we shouldn’t let the past stand in the way of it.. if we both want...” He trailed off, the unspoken question in his words hanging over them. 

“I think we both know I’ve wanted you for a while,” Kallus said. “I just never thought...”

“No more thinking, yeah?” Zeb said.

And then he was pulling them both down onto the bed. Kallus felt the tickle of Zeb’s fingers in his hair before they were kissing again, and all his doubts faded away. All there was for Kallus was Zeb: his strong arms, his soft fur beneath human fingers, and the purring that was vibrating from the lasat’s muscled chest. 

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 12 |-o-|

Kallus didn't hesitate this time, as Zeb pulled them both onto the small cot-like bed. The springs squeaked as his back met with the mattress, but Zeb only had the briefest moment to worry if their combined weight was too much for the cot to handle. Before the concerns would fully cement in his lasat brain, Kallus was kissing him again, and all thoughts went out the airlock.

No, all Zeb could focus on was the welcome weight of the man on top of him, and the way the human’s mouth yielded to his. Zeb had never fully understood human kissing's appeal before. With so much saliva involved, he had never expected it to be enjoyable. Nevertheless, as his partner's tongue began to slowly push through, Zeb finally got it.

He'd stay here and kiss Kallus for the rest of his life if he was allowed to.

Experimentally, Zeb allowed one of his fanged teeth to scrape along Kallus’ lower lip, eliciting a sound akin to a groan to rumble from the human's throat. That was very good, very promising. Zeb tried it again, this time fully taking the bottom lip between his teeth in the process. Fingernails dug into his shoulders in response and a delighted sigh from Kallus. Very very promising.

Unfortunately, oxygen was coming up in short supply. Zeb was just thinking he'd rather suffocate than stop kissing Kallus when the human’s weight shifted onto his hands, pushing up and breaking their lips apart.

Golden hair fell immediately to frame Kallus’ face as he looked down, kiss bitten lips forming a slightly dazed smile. "Wasn't sure if lasat kissed like this,” he said.

"Not normally, but it's growing on me," Zeb replied, with a lopsided grin, allowing the hand he had resting on Kallus’ back to do a slow slide down to his hip. "Might take just a little more convincin' though, if you’re up for it.”

Laughing, Kallus kissed him again. "And ... is this, okay? … being on top of you?” He asked this between kisses, punctuating the question by ducking his head to nuzzle into Zeb's neck, kissing him in the lasat way.

"That's better than okay," Zeb answered, now sliding his hand under Kallus' shirt, feeling the skin of the human’s back. "Wonderful, I would even say.”

Zeb didn’t want to say how many times he’d daydreamt of what it would feel like to do this. The enthusiasm Kallus was showing for the endeavor had warmed the lasat’s heart. They’d both been waiting, hiding their feelings, and now those feelings were spilling out in the form of kisses, nuzzles, and friction. 

And quite frankly, Zeb couldn’t have been happier.

|-o-|

Kallus felt mildly disoriented when he woke up the following morning. First, because he hadn’t recalled going to sleep. Second, because he was not alone in his bed. 

Zeb, stripped of all his armor and in just his fabric jumpsuit, lie curled around his back, a warm furry arm flung over the former ISB agent’s midsection. Kallus was in just sleep pants, having allowed the lasat to toss aside his shirt so that he could run gentle clawed fingers through the human’s golden chest hair.

So, it wasn’t a dream, Kallus thought, moving just enough to see Zeb’s face, relaxed in sleep, out of the corner of his eye. The lasat’s presence filled his senses from the sound of his soft snoring to the scent that was wafting off his fur. 

Kallus knew he didn’t deserve this. Knew he hadn’t earned it, but he remembered the words Zeb had said the night before. 

Who was Kallus to decide what Zeb could have? Not only that, but who’s to say Kallus couldn’t keep working towards being worthy of this gift? He was here on the right side, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Who’s to say he couldn’t enjoy being with Zeb while he continued to work towards being the type of man who deserved the lasat’s affection?

Slowly, he eased over, rolling gently to face his new bed partner. Zeb didn’t wake, but in his sleep, he let out a soft hum and pulled Kallus ever closer to him so that the human found himself nuzzled against the lasat’s chest. It was amazingly comfortable, just as he had always thought it could be. Ever since Bahryn, a part of him had wondered what it would have felt like to properly huddle against Zeb for warmth, to feel that fur against him. 

The fur was softer than he had initially thought, Kallus wove his fingers through some of it at the back of Zeb’s neck, stroking gently as if petting a loth-cat. The snoring faded to be replaced with a soft purr. It vibrated through Zeb’s chest, sending a thrill through Kallus, who was braced against it. 

“You keep doing that, and I’m not going to want to leave for this mission,” Zeb said, his voice raspy with sleep. 

Kallus chuckled, moving his hand up to stroke behind Zeb’s pointed ear. The lasat’s purring became even more pronounced as he ducked his head to rub his cheek against the human’s neck. 

“There will be time when you get back, remember?” Kallus said, in a breathy voice as he felt soft lips on the skin covering his clavicle. 

“Yeah, I remember,” Zeb said, his breath warm against Kallus’ skin. 

They had decided the night before to take their time. They could have very easily gotten carried away, as their kissing and rubbing became heated. Instead, they’d decided not to jump straight to the finish line. 

There would be time later to get to more intimate activities. That, of course, hadn’t stopped Zeb from spending the night. 

“You should probably get moving,” Kallus said, reluctantly withdrawing his hand. “As much as I hate to say that.”

“Shoulda made a move before my crew got back, but I wasn’t sure how you felt,” Zeb said, slowly unwrapping himself from around Kallus. 

“I wasn’t sure either. I didn’t want to presume.”

“We’re a pair of idiots,” Zeb said with a laugh. He pressed his face close to Kallus’, ruffling one of the human’s thick side chops before planting a kiss high on his cheek. “Scared idiots.”

The lasat got up out of bed and began reattaching the armored pieces of his battle suit. Kallus followed suit, sliding on his undershirt, and starting to dress for the day.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but it’s been a very long time since I’ve been in any semblance of a relationship,” Kallus said, stepping into his trousers. “And I was afraid if I told you I looked at you as more than a friend, I might well lose the friendship. I… I wouldn’t have…” He let out a haggard sigh, words failing him. 

“As I said, idiots,” Zeb said, smiling at Kallus. “Both holding back for the same fears. No more, ya hear me.”

“Garizeb, I promise to never hold back from you again,” Kallus said, now fully dressed. 

“Good. I promise the same, Kal.”

Before he left Zeb crowded Kallus, rubbing first one cheek against one side of the human's face, then switching to the opposite before letting their foreheads touch together. Kallus only had an idea of what the gesture meant, but it flooded him with a pleasant, contented warmth. 

|-o-|

When Zeb got back to the Ghost, he went straight into the galley for some caf, yawning as he set up the pot to brew. He and Kal had stayed up later than he’d intended, talking and cuddling (among other things), but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

They’d decided to take their time, but as he poured his steaming caf into a ThermaJug his mind wandered to thoughts of things they might do later on down the line.

“There you are,” Ezra said as he came through the door. “Where were you last night? You never came to bed.”

Zeb sipped his caf, pondering how to answer while he watched the young Jedi tear open a ration bar and take a bite.

“Figured you might want some space on your first night back,” Zeb said. “So, I stayed with Kal last night.” Then the lasat left the galley, amused at the sounds of near choking behind him.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Ezra called, bounding along behind Zeb, the ration bar left behind forgotten. “Kal as in Agent Kallus? You spent the night with Agent Kallus?!?”

“Hey, that’s Captain Kallus to you,” Zeb said, with the vaguest hint of a growl as he led the way into the cockpit.

“They made that guy a Captain?”

Hera’s head emerged up the ladder from down below. “What’s going on up here?” she asked, eyes sliding from Zeb, who had sunk into the seat behind her pilot’s chair, to Ezra, who was still looking flabbergasted.

“Zeb spent the night with Kallus!”

Hera’s face lit up. “That’s great,” she said, smiling at the lasat. “I feel like you and Kal have been dancing around that for weeks.”

“You, too, with the ‘Kal’ thing?” Ezra looked like he was done. “How can you be happy about this, Hera? The guy hunted us for two years!”

“He’s on our side now,” Zeb growled. “And has been for a while.”

“You heard him at the meeting yesterday,” Hera said. “He’s as far from an Imperial Agent now as he could be.

“Doesn’t mean Zeb should be sleeping with him!”

The cockpit doors whirred open behind him, and Zeb steeled himself to see which of the remaining two crewmates would be coming through it. A small part of him regretted his decision to rip the bacta patch off and go ahead and tell the other Spectres. He had hoped it would be easier than trying to hide the budding relationship from them. That and, on the spot, he'd failed to think of an excuse for Ezra as to why he hadn’t come home the previous night.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Kanan said, as he stepped into sight, his blind eyes were hidden behind his face mask. He was actively pulling his hair back into a ponytail, having clearly just gotten up from bed himself.

“Zeb is sleeping with Agent Kallus,” Ezra repeated.

The lasat winced. He could almost imagine Kanan’s eyebrows arching in surprise behind the mask.

“For the record, we literally only slept,” Zeb said, rubbing the back of his own neck. “We decided not to rush into anything.”

Hera, who had managed to scoot past where Ezra was standing to reach the main ship controls, swiveled in her chair. “You don’t owe us any explanations,” she said. “I think you and Kallus are good for each other.”

Kanan was wearing a lopsided grin, arms crossed over his chest. “Is this the moment I’m supposed to pretend to be surprised?” he asked. Ezra seemed to crumple in on himself after this, sputtering incoherently. Kanan extended a hand out, and it landed on his padawan’s shoulder. “Sometimes, love doesn’t make sense to outside observers, kiddo.”

The word love sent a strange sensation through Zeb. One part elation. One part panic. It was far too soon to be attaching the L word to the relationship, even if somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it might already apply. He choked back the last sip of his caf as Kanan led the kid away.

Hera was giving him a sympathetic look. “He’ll warm to the idea,” she said, standing and taking his now empty ThermaJug from him. 

“To think I somehow decided this was easier than hiding it from the crew,” Zeb said, slumping slightly in his seat. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Sabine will take it better.”

As if on cue, the colorful haired mandalorian stepped into the cockpit. “Sure I will take what better?” she asked, tucking her helmet under her arm, her eyes sliding from Hera to Zeb.

“Karabast,” Zeb muttered, scrubbing a hand down his own face. 

“I’ll just give you a minute,” Hera said, leaving the way Sabine had come.

Sabine perched herself on the chair across from Zeb, swiveling it to face him, her eyes examining his expectantly. He took a moment to compose his words carefully, despite Hera’s theory, he wasn’t nearly as sure that Sabine would receive this news any better than Ezra.

She was sure to handle it with more maturity, but that didn’t mean she would find the idea to be a good one.

“Zeb?”

“You see, the thing is,” Zeb said, straightening up. “I’m sort of seeing someone, here on the base.”

Her perfectly manicured eyebrows nearly disappeared beneath her hair, which was currently dyed a deep purple at the tips fading to white at the roots. “Really? Who is it?” she asked. “After all these years, I assumed you just weren’t into things like that.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t surprising that Sabine would think that. They’d been living in close quarters for a long time, and he’d never once shown interest in anyone male or female. 

“I guess it just took the right guy,” Zeb said.

“Why am I not surprised its a guy,” she said, with a wry smile. “Well, spill it. I haven’t met hardly anyone here on base yet, so it’s not like I’m going to know who it is.”

Zeb rubbed the back of his neck again and let out a nervous sigh. “Actually, you would know him,” he said. “It’s Kallus.”

Clearly, whatever Sabine had been expecting, this was not it. Her eyes went wide, and she leaned back in the chair she was sitting in as if the news had physically affronted her. “How? I mean... how?!?” she asked, staring him down. “What the hell really happened on that moon?”

Zeb went from bracing himself to laughing. 

“Nothing. Well, nothing like that, at least,” he said. “I guess maybe that was the start, though I didn’t see it like that. Not at the time. It wasn’t until we got here and, y’know, had time to spend together that I realized there was something between us.”

“Is it serious?”

“Honestly, it’s too soon to tell,” Zeb said. “It’s very new, I just decided instead of carrying on with it in secret it might be better if—”

“Right, yeah, I get it,” Sabine said. “Listen, I just want you to be happy, so, if he can make you happy...”

She trailed off, looking torn. Zeb bit his lip for a moment and thought. “I am happy about this,” he assured her. 

“Good, good,” she said nodding. “If he hurts you, though, I’ll end him.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he said with a smile. He opened his mouth to say more, but Hera’s voice filtered up to him from the cargo hold. There were still things to do to get underway to Jalindi.

The wheels of war didn’t stop turning for anything, let alone a fresh romance.

|-o-|

Kallus didn’t go to see the Ghost off. He’d thought about it, all through his usual morning brief, and his quick run into the mess hall for breakfast. In the end, he settled on being near a window to see it take off from afar, then he set about his daily work as a means of distracting himself from the fact Zeb was off-world.

He only had a moment to be elated that Zeb had come so quickly to find him once the Ghost returned before realizing that something was very wrong.

“You got a minute?” Zeb asked his hunched posture, speaking volumes about his mood. 

Kallus had been poring over a datapad in the intelligence offices. He powered the device off and deposited it on his desktop with a nod, allowing the lasat to lead him from the workspace.

Despite wanting to ask what was wrong, Kallus allowed them to walk in silence out of the temple. They drifted diagonally across the landing pad, past where the Ghost was parked. Soon they were striding between the line of trees that bordered the edge of the base. 

It was here that he decided to break the quiet between them. “Did the mission go that badly?”

Zeb turned, a fur-covered arm reaching out for the man before him. Soon they were tangled in each other’s embrace, Zeb’s head ducked so that it was pressed into the shoulder of Kallus’ jacket.

“Saw has Sabine and Ezra,” he said, voice mildly muffled by fabric.

Kallus tensed, fingers gripping just a little bit tighter into the lasat’s back and shoulder. He had all but forgotten about Saw Gerrera’s transmission from the night before, but it all came screaming back to him. “‘ Has’ as in he took them?”

Zeb pulled back, arms falling to his sides as he extricated himself from the hug. Kallus didn’t particularly want to let him go but decided against clinging to the lasat.

“Mission went sideways,” Zeb said, now pacing as he explained. “Imperial reinforcements caught on to our presence way too fast, and thanks to a pair of TIE enforcers, we weren’t able to get the kids off of the dish fast enough. At least, not before Saw turned up.”

“Gerrera came to blow up the relay, didn’t he?” Kallus asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Yeah, at least he had the decency to pull the kids and Chopper out of harm’s way first,” Zeb said, “but then he jumped to hyperspace before we could get ‘em back.”

“I imagine Captain Syndulla isn’t all too pleased,” Kallus said.

“None of us are,” Zeb said, shaking his head. “Now we have no idea where they are. We came back here for lack of another destination, and because if they try to reach out, they’ll know where we are.”

“A wise plan,” Kallus said, taking a step forward into the space Zeb was utilizing to fretfully pace through.

“If he lets them call us,” Zeb said. “What if he doesn’t? I don’t trust this guy. I know you feel the same. I just don’t like feeling helpless. I’ve fought every day since Lasan fell to not feel this way, and here we are. There’s nothing I can do!” 

Zeb's mouth was twisted into a scowl as he scrubbed his hands anxiously down his face. He’d stopped pacing, if only because Kallus had placed himself in the path, forcing his partner to stop. He slid his hands on the Lasat’s arms, gently squeezing fur-covered biceps. 

“There’s nothing I can do,” Zeb echoed his last line, this time quieter, less frantic, as he seemed to deflate. 

“That’s not true, you’re already doing exactly what you could do,” Kallus assured him, gently running his thumbs in arcs across striped fur. “You returned here, where they would know how to reach you. You’re standing by to extract them. And you found me so that I could keep you from going crazy while you wait.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Zeb huffed, finally looking up to meet eyes.

To think there ever could have been a time when Kallus looked into those big eyes and didn’t find them beautiful. For a moment, he forgot that he was allowed to touch, but once remembered, he moved a hand up to the lasat’s cheek, carding his fingers through the thick hair that grew along his partner's jaw. 

“They’re going to be alright,” Kallus said. “If not, we will go find Gerrera ourselves, and once we’ve finished with him, he will regret being born.”

Zeb let out a low whistle. “That’s equal parts terrifying and hot,” he said, dropping a hand onto Kallus’ hip to pull the man even closer to him. “Could think of a couple ways you could distract me right now.” The suggestion was evident in his tone, and within a half a breath, they were kissing.

On some level, Kallus was aware that perhaps they shouldn’t be doing so. Not out in the open where anyone, including high up officers of Rebel Command, could happen upon them. He knew they could be showing some sense of propriety. Still, as his back met with the trunk of a tree, and Zeb roughly divested him of his jacket, the former ISB agent couldn’t make himself care.

He was just considering attempting to wrap his legs around the lasat’s waist, just like he’d always fantasized of doing when Zeb’s comm went off.

“Spectre 2 to Spectre 4, do you copy?”

Zeb didn’t immediately react, his face was buried against the curve of Kallus’ neck, that slightly larger than a human’s tongue lapping against sweat-damp skin.

“Spectre 2 to Spectre 4, come in, please.”

“Karabast,” Zeb murmured, pulling back just enough to retrieve his comm unit from his belt and answer. “Spectre 4 here.”

“We just got word from the kids. They’re in the Tonnis Sector, and they need a pick-up. Get back to the ship, pronto,” Hera said.

“I’m on my way,” Zeb said, he looked apologetically back to Kallus as he holstered the unit. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Hera’s voice came crackling through the comm one last time.

“Oh, and do tell Captain Kallus I said hello.”

Warmth flooded Kallus’ cheeks. It was as if the woman had come strolling into the clearing and caught them in the act. She hadn’t, of course, and hadn’t hinted that the pair were doing anything untoward, just that they were together somewhere.

“I get the feeling that Hera has been seeing right through us for a long time,” Zeb said. “Like she’s known longer than we have.”

“That,” Kallus said with a heavy swallow. “Wouldn’t have been difficult. Were we not both stubbornly pretending that we didn’t… that we weren’t…”

Somehow he couldn’t finish the statement because now that they were here. Now that Kallus lived a life where he could kiss Garazeb Orrelios whenever he wanted to, he didn’t want to even think about it turning out any other way.

“Like I said, we were idiots,” Zeb said. “But now, this idiot has gotta run.”

“Go, there will be plenty of time to resume this when you get back,” Kallus said, raising his chin to give Zeb the access to once again rub his their faces together first on one side, then the other. There was no one on Yavin IV to perceive Zeb’s scent on him, but it was clearly important to the lasat, which made it important to Kallus, too.

“I’m holding you to that,” Zeb said with a smile before rushing off.

Kallus leaned on the tree for a long while, even after he heard the Ghost's engines flair to life, and saw the ship float above the tree line and out of the atmosphere. 

He hadn’t wanted to explain to anyone on base why he was smiling like a fool.

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 13 |-o-|

Kallus had been immensely relieved when the Ghost crew returned, with the kids safely back among them. He sat in on the debrief since the Jalindi job had been based on his intel, and he’d helped run the initial pre-mission briefing.

He had to force himself to stay quiet, though. Saw Gererra had, in the end, abandoned the kids on a supply ship that was set to combust at any second. Zeb met his eyes across the space, holding his gaze for a long time while the kids were telling their tale, this helped keep Kallus in check.

But needless to say, if Kallus ever encountered Saw again, the interaction would be messy at best.

At least Bridger had wholly lost enthusiasm for Gererra’s methods, so the cluster kriff of a mission had at least one silver lining.

Then there was the fact that this was another shipment of kyber crystal being trafficked by the empire. He feared just what they might be using it for.

This debrief wasn’t for discussing that, however. So once the final details of what happened had been sufficiently discussed, all gathered had been summarily dismissed. Zeb caught his eye again, and with a little nod, made it clear that they’d catch up later. Instead, the lasat left the space elbow to elbow with Bridger, bumping into him intentionally and giving the kid a hard time.

Kallus hung back, watching as they went, relieved that Zeb’s family was intact.

“Take a holo, it will last longer.”

Sabine Wren had walked up on Kallus from behind, clearly watching as he gazed after Zeb. He couldn’t help the blush that was rising in his cheeks being caught like this.

“Oh, I was just…”

“It’s okay. I see Kanan making eyes at Hera like that all the time,” she said.

Kallus tried and failed to hide the shock from showing on his face. He hadn’t realized that Zeb had told his crewmates about them. He wondered what he had said. There was also a sense of relief behind the surprise as it made the relationship all the more real.

“Yeah, he told us,” she confirmed. “And I just want to let you know when it comes to the rebellion: I trust you. You’ve proven yourself. You’re on our side. But—,” here she rounded on him, jabbing a finger into his chest, “if you hurt him, if you break his heart, there won’t be any pieces left of you big enough to identify. Been a long time since I’ve tried to blow you up, but I’ll do it.”

“Miss Wren—.”

“It’s Sabine.”

“Sabine,” Kallus began. It felt weird using her first name, but he pressed on anyway. “I assure you the last thing I want in the galaxy is to hurt Zeb. I… I care for him very… it’s actually been a long time coming…”

He was stumbling over his words, suddenly aware that he was about to maybe divulge how deep his feelings were to Sabine before properly doing so to Zeb. In words, at least.

The Mandalorian was grinning now. “This is an interesting side to you, Kallus,” she said. “I might like it, but I’ll still kill you if I have to.”

With that, she was gone, walking off towards the Ghost. Kallus exhaled a long breath and then turned to walk back into the main base temple, promptly striding headlong into Kanan.

“Watch where you’re going,” Kanan said, but he was smiling. “I was actually coming to talk to you since Hera is taking an extra-long time talking with Mon Mothma.”

Kallus looked past the Jedi to where the two women were in quiet discussion. “I don’t suppose this is about something other than my relationship with Zeb?”

“You’re in a relationship with Zeb? News to me!” Kallus choked, but before he could respond, Kanan laughed. “Kidding, he told everyone on the crew. I’m happy for you guys. I’ve never seen Zeb into someone before. It’s nice.”

“Well, the feeling is very mutual,” Kallus said, not sure why they were having this conversation.

“Good, because if you hurt him—.”

“Let me guess: you’ll kill me,” Kallus said. “I get the impression there will be a queue.”

“Now you get it,” Kanan said, clapping Kallus on the shoulder. “In all seriousness, Zeb’s like a brother to me, which means if you two work out, then you’re family. I just wanted you to know that.”

“Well, thank you, I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Ready?” Hera had arrived at Kanan’s shoulder. “I need a shower and some caf, Love. You haven’t been giving Kallus here a hard time about Zeb, have you?”

“Me? I would never,” Kanan said, offering her an elbow. 

|-o-|

There was a time, before Zeb, when Kallus would have never ever considered calling his workday done before dinner. In the two weeks since taking their relationship beyond friendship, the former imperial began finding it easier and easier to shelve work in favor of an afternoon with the lasat.

That is, he often did so when the Ghost was actually on planet, which it currently wasn’t. 

It was like a gaping hole in the landing field, and Kallus couldn’t help but glance at it every time it neared his line of sight. This was the first time one of the pair had gone off-world since they became a couple, but it wouldn’t be the last. Which was why Kallus felt somewhat ashamed the dozenth time he’d stood up from his desk to check if the ship he could hear landing was the one he was waiting to arrive.

It wasn’t as if the Spectres had been gone that long. They’d departed the evening before last, less than 48 hours.

In the end, all of Kallus’ persistent checking was a waste of time. As his comm chimed, twice the smile was automatic, spreading unbidden across his face. Only one person would ping his comm unit like that. 

Rapidly powering down his station, Kallus depressed the call button on his comm unit twice. It was a sort of call back, letting Zeb know that he received the initial contact. None of the other intelligence officers paid him the slightest bit of attention as he slid on his jacket and strode quietly from the office space.

The usual hustle and bustle of the base hummed around him as he made his way to the landing pad, arriving just as the Ghost’s cargo bay door flipped open.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Sabine quipped as she strode down the ramp. “You’ve been standing there since we left, haven’t you?”

“They reprimanded me for sleeping on the landing field, but it was worth it.”

Sabine actually laughed at that, which Kallus was reasonably sure was a first for them. So he turned as she passed him, sharing in the chuckle.

“Next time we’ll at least leave you a crate to sit on,” she said, walking backward now. “He’s in his cabin, by the way. Only mentioned looking forward to seeing you like a dozen times.”

“Then I better not keep him waiting!”

Initially, Kallus hadn’t known how to feel about the entirety of the Ghost crew knowing about their relationship. He wondered at the time why, exactly, the lasat had done so immediately, but now Kallus was pretty sure he understood exactly why.

So he could be excited, enthusiastic, HAPPY even without having to hide those emotions from his family.

Of course, this also allowed Kallus the freedom to ascend the ladder, smiling broadly and openly, even as he passed Hera going the other way. She was peering down at a DataPad in her hand, but she still looked up and greeted him with a nod as she went. 

Zeb, as it turned out, was not in his cabin. Instead, Kallus found Ezra elbow deep in a drawer looking for something. Kallus moved to the side just as a shoe went flying over the young Jedi's shoulder, meeting with the bulkhead behind him.

"Zeb, have you been my DataPad?" Ezra asked. "I swear I had it in here just the other day."

"Last time I saw you with it, you were in the galley," Kallus answered without any hesitation.

Ezra jumped at the unexpected, voice, straightening up and turning around, so fast Kallus nearly ducked for cover. He stood his ground, though, and despite Bridger's hand twitching towards his lightsaber Ezra caught himself.

"Sorry, old habits," Ezra said, visibly relaxing. "One of these days I'll get used to... whatever this is. Zeb's in the fresher cleaning up for your date." He leaned heavily on the last word, giving it a sing-song tone as he strode out the door, probably to go retrieve the DataPad he'd been looking for.

Kallus shook his head in a bemused way and moved across the space to sit on Zeb's bunk. Not knowing how long the lasat might take, he slid in far enough to lay back against one side, crossing his ankles, and weaving his fingers together behind his head.

The cabin doors zoomed open a couple minutes later. "Making yourself at home in my bunk, I see." Zeb came in and tossed what was clearly a dirty jumpsuit into the laundry, already dressed in a fresh, clean one.

"Only fair, you've made yourself at home in mine," Kallus countered, making no moves to get up.

"Ya got me there," Zeb said, bending a knee to prop it on the edge of the bunk. Without consciously deciding to do so, Kallus was already lifting his back from the bunk wall. He leaned into Zeb, who was sniffing already, determining if his scent was strong enough on Kallus.

It never was, so within a couple sniffs, Zeb began to rub his face and cheeks along Kallus' jawline and neck.

"You smell good, Alex," Zeb spoke, his breath hot on Kallus' neck. "But, you smell even better with a little bit o' me mixed in."

"Ngk." Zeb had taken to sneaking Kallus' first name into conversations. Always the quiet, intimate ones. The human had never cared for his first name, but hearing his partner, call him by it - the only one who called him by it - always made Kallus' heartbeat just a little bit faster.

Which was why Kallus, placed a firm hand under Zeb's chin and pulled him into a tender kiss.

Neither of them heard the compartment doors open again, but they definitely heard Ezra's exclamation of disgust.

"I was gone for five minutes!"

Zeb withdrew himself from the bunk, laughing. "You'd be surprised what we can get up to in five minutes."

"Garazeb!" Kallus was sure his face was bright red with embarrassment.

Ezra, on the other hand, had tucked his DataPad under his arm and covered his ears. "No, don't say any more, I don't want to know."

"C'mon, Ezra gotta learn about the birds and the bees eventually."

Kallus would have liked to dissolve into the bunk padding. No longer fully hearing the words flying back and forth between the bunkmates. Kallus had never had siblings himself, but he'd seen plenty who argued just like this.

The Ghost crew really were family in many ways, this was just the latest example.

"It's my room, too," Ezra bellowed, as Zeb attempted to push the young Jedi out the door. "And you've had it to yourselves for weeks!"

"Well, we didn't need it then," Zeb growled. "We need it NOW."

With a sigh, Kallus swung his legs from the bunk. "Actually, we don't."

That got them to shut up. They both froze in their pushing motions against one another, both staring back with confused expressions on their faces.

"We don't?" Zeb asked, giving another shove against Ezra.

"You don't, because your boyfriend has," Ezra gritted out, attempting to push Zeb back across the threshold, "his own bunk."

"No," Kallus said. "Well, yes, but that's not what I meant."

He was at Zeb's shoulder now, and all it took was a gentle touch, fingertips brushing across a furry bicep,  to get him to stand down. The lasat straightened up, and as a result Ezra nearly fell on his face, scrambling to get his weight back on his feet.

"I got clearance to use one of the speeders, packed us a picnic for dinner, " Kallus said, hand still on Zeb's arm, his thumb moving in slow arcs that raised the fur in one direction, then smoothing it back down. "Thought we'd go off-base to a nice quiet spot."

"Oh, that sounds nice," Zeb said, looking like he just might lean in and kiss Kallus, again, either in the human or lasat way. 

Before he could, a terse voice reminded them from the door. "I'm still standing here, you know!"

Zeb whipped around, "No, one is keeping you there."

"Garazeb," Kallus gently admonished, "We'll get going, my apologies, Mr. Bridger. We will endeavor to utilize the privacy lock in the future.”

"Thank you, Kallus!" Ezra exclaimed, stepping to the side to let the couple out into the hall. "At least one of you cares. It's Ezra, by the way."

Kallus was busy pushing Zeb down the hall, stymieing any possibility of the argument continuing. He looked over his shoulder and said: "oh, is that your first name? I thought it was Jabba."

"Better than Mr. Bridger."

"Duly noted.”

|-o-|

As their speeder zoomed through the trees, the sky turned to beautiful shades of orange, red, and purple as the sun set. Zeb adjusted his grip on Kallus' hips, enjoying just how nice the human fit against his chest and how great, that loose sandy colored hair looked blowing in the wind as they went. Zeb had never enjoyed sharing a speeder with any one before.

"Not much further, " Kallus informed him as if Zeb was in any hurry to get off the vehicle.

"So, you have a spot in mind, then?" The lasat leaned in, slotting his chin onto his partner's shoulder so that he could speak into the human's ear. He could feel the man's reaction to the breath warming his neck, sense the shudder that rolled down Kallus' back. Zeb's smile broadened. He had been slowly learning ways to make this very composed man crack and lose his composure.

"I do, yes," Kallus breathed out as he made a gentle turn on the speeder. "Found it while you were off-world.".

"Mmm, nice 'n romantic of you," Zeb said, again ensuring to lean in good and close, even letting his lips brush the curves of Kallus' ear.

Another pleasant shudder passed through the man, but they had apparently arrived as the speeder slowed to a stop at the edge of a clearing. Kallus, leaned back, turning his face to Zeb's to kiss him.

"Good to know I'm not totally inept at romance, then,” Kallus said.

They disembarked, Kallus, moving to the Cargo trunk mounted on the back of the speeder to pop it open. Zeb turned his attention to the clearing lined with closely growing trees. The grass growing here was very nearly blue, especially in the failing light, and was peppered with small fern-looking plants, with long, tightly closed, buds growing on them.

It was quiet in that way only forests could be, where all the faint sounds came from nature - a rustle of branches, the chirping of some animal nearby - and the sounds of the base were nowhere to be heard.

"No one's going to come to bother us here, that's for sure."

"That was the goal," Kallus said, arriving at Zeb's shoulder carrying a sizeable structured bag slung on one shoulder. "Well, as well as the ambiance."

The bag contained a large blanket, which they spread across the grass in the middle of the clearing, following this was a small cooler containing their dinner, an electric lantern, and finally a pair of pillows.

"You planning on us sleeping out here?" Zeb asked as he plopped the pillows down on the blanket.

“Not necessarily, but I wanted the option open," Kallus said. "They're more for comfort than anything else." He illustrated this by sinking down to sit on one.

As it turned out, Kallus had thought of everything, and soon Zeb was lounged out on the blanked, an elbow crooked and propped on his pillow while he nibbled on a slice of Jogan fruit. Kallus scooted up next to him, the small platter of food balanced on his knees. Zeb finished the piece of fruit and reached for another.

Kallus caught his wrist. "May I?" With delicate fingers, he held a piece out. Zeb opened his mouth and let himself be fed the juicy slice of fruit.

And if his lips dragged unnecessarily across Kallus' fingertips, surely it was an accident.

As it turned out, all the foods Kallus had prepared were finger foods - slices of fruit, pieces of cured meat, sliced veggies with a creamy dip - and for the better part of an hour, they fed each other dinner. Zeb was nervous about doing this at first, what if he got Kallus' lips with one of his claws?

His partner didn't share his qualms, clearly, eagerly parting his lips for every piece of food Zeb offered him.

"Mmm, I think that's enough for me," the human said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

The sun was fully set now, the stars beginning to twinkle into life above them. Zeb shifted, pushing himself up to sit and relieving Kallus of the tray, setting it aside in the grass.

"I've got an appetite for something other than food,” Zeb said, tugging Kallus towards him.

"Oh, is that so?" Letting himself be pulled into his partner's lap, Kallus grinned widely.

"Yeah, it's been two days since I got to properly kiss you," Zeb said. "Thought I was going to get to back on the ship, but you know... Ezra."

"And you may all you want in approximately 45 seconds." Kallus was checking the time, ignoring the confused look on the lasat's face. The human was sat sideways across Zeb's lap, with one arm slung over a shoulder. "In five, four, three, two, one."

All around the clearing, those tightly closed buds were splitting open, blooming live around them. The petals burst forward and out like fireworks, colored in deep oranges and reds. They brought sudden color to the green world around them.

"Wow."

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Kallus asked, turning his face back to Zeb. "They only bloom at night in starlight."

Careful not to unseat the man on his lap, Zeb leaned far enough to reach the nearest flowered shrub, plucking a vibrant orange bloom.

"They are, but..." Zeb paused, tucking the flower into Kallus' hair, behind his ear. "Not quite as beautiful as you."

Kallus let out a breathy chuckle, his head coming forward to press their foreheads together. Zeb still couldn't quite believe they were here, that they were together and open with their feelings.

As Kallus proceeded to nuzzle into Zeb's neck, kissing in the lasat way, an overwhelming flood of warm affection overcame the lasat. Zeb couldn't help the happy tears from leaking out.

"Garazeb, what's wrong?"

Having closed them to stem the flow, Zeb opened his eyes to find his partner looking at him concerned, hands coming up to hold the lasat's face.

Shaking his head, Zeb brought a hand up to pull Kallus even tighter against him.

"I'm just so happy, Alex."

Concern melted into joy, Kallus smiled. "As am I," he said, running a thumb over Zeb's lips.

Zeb was done waiting he palmed the back of his partner's head, pulling them together, and kissing him.

Chapter Text

|-o-| Chapter 14 |-o-|

The days on Yavin IV began to blend together; Zeb could account that to two things. The first being a lack of disasters, things were actually slowly thrumming along for the rebellion at the moment. Missions came and went, but nothing dire had happened recently. 

The second, of course, was because he was happy.

The truth was, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so genuinely happy. Not that he hadn’t been with the Spectres before. He had been fortunate to have an incredible support system of found family he had forged through the years, and yes, of course, he had been happy with them.

This was different, though. This was a contentment Zeb was sure he hadn’t felt since Lasan.

The lasat paused in his work, pulling the spanner wrench back and giving himself a shake. One sure-fire way to put a crack in his joyous bubble would be to think too long about Lasan or any relationships he had lost along with his homeworld.

Fortunately, Hera picked just the right moment to show up, a welcome distraction.

“How are these repairs going?”

Hera, though she’d probably not admit it, had also been pretty happy since Kanan had settled in back from Mandalore. Not in the same delirious, still freshly minted way he and Kallus were, but happy nonetheless. 

“Not bad should have it all wrapped up in a couple hours,” Zeb said, pointing into the mechanism he’d been working on. “Just have to tighten down a few things, run final diagnostics, and reassemble everything.”

Hera leaned against the bulkhead wall, nodding and looking satisfied with the answer. “Good, will give you time to help set up for family dinner tonight.”

Zeb failed to stifle the huff of a groan that left his lips at the words’ family dinner’; it earned him a reproachful look from Hera. She crossed her arms over herself, pursing her lips the way she always did when she was brainstorming just the words to use to make you realize you’re wrong about everything, and she is right.

“Could it maybe be family lunch?” Zeb asked, in a meager attempt to stave off the talking to. “You know I eat dinner with Kal.”

“I am aware of that, which is why you’ll be inviting him, too,” she said. “We’re going to set up in the cargo hold. Kanan’s getting out that wretched grill of his that he refuses to upgrade to a new one. We’ll cookout. It’ll be fun.”

“Oh, I... well,” Zeb straightened up, work forgotten. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Kallus to spend time with his crew — his family —, he had just been taking his time integrating Kallus into the family at large. It was partially protective, both of his partner, of their flourishing relationship and of their time.

Zeb truly relished every evening they got to spend together. Eating, talking, cuddling (among other things). 

“Not taking no for an answer,” Hera said, having stood and watched patiently as the lasat struggled to find an excuse to decline. “It’s time to bring the boyfriend home for dinner.”

“See, that’s exactly what I was afraid of.” He ceased scratching at the back of his neck and fixed Hera with a look. “It’s not just dinner; it’s like some rite of passage. There’ll be prying questions. The kids’ll be insufferable. Kallus will clam up and turn all quiet.”

“And we’ll do what we do best,” Hera said, shifting her weight, lifting her shoulder from the bulkhead. “Pry him from his shell and turn him into one of our own. It’s time, I know you two are serious. I see you.”

The Twi’lek had stepped into his space just enough to place a hand on his shoulder. She knew him far too well, so there was no point in denying it. Especially since she, of all the crew members, had a front-row seat for the couple’s developmental days. “Alright, family dinner,” Zeb said. “I’ll set up the stereo and everything. If ya like.”

“That’s the spirit,” she said, and without another word, she left him to his repairs, her boot falls fading away down the ramp and away from the Phantom II.

Not wanting to spring the change of plans on his partner, Zeb decided to put the repairs on hold for a few minutes and catch Kallus coming out of his mid-day briefing. The early afternoon sun filtered down through scattered clouds, speckling the landing field with moving spots as the lasat crossed it at a brisk pace.

The last family dinner had taken place on Atollon, picnic-style out in the shade of one of the large flora structures the planet was known for. They’d been welcoming Wedge and Hobby into the fold then, fresh from Skystrike Academy. It had been quite the lovely occasion, actually, sitting back and watching Sabine beat the new recruits in an arm wrestle, eating kebabs from the grill.

If anything, at least they’d be well fed.

Zeb had to wait a few minutes, leaning against the wall outside of the meeting space. Once the briefing ended, Kallus wandered out with his nose glued to his DataPad, likely scrolling through recent data that he’d acquired mere minutes before. Still, he only made it a couple steps beyond the threshold before seeming to sense eyes on him.

“Zeb!” The smile spread across his face, radiating warmth and crinkling the skin at the corners of his golden eyes. “This is a surprise.”

Without needing to discuss it, they fell in step next to each other, silently agreeing to walk together back towards the intel offices. Their elbows brushed as they went, and Zeb took long, hopefully subtle, sniffs of the air between them.

“Came by to invite you to dinner,” he said, another slow sniff.

“Invite me to...” Kallus paused, turning confused to look up into his partner’s face. “Garazeb, we have dinner together every night.”

“I know, but I’m here to invite you to have dinner on the Ghost,” Zeb said, turning now they were stopped to meet the inquiring gaze. “Family dinner. At sundown.”

Kallus chewed his bottom lip, which was very distracting, as he seemed to weigh out the information at hand. “Family dinner,” he repeated, unnecessarily adjusting the way he held the DataPad under his arm. “As in dinner with you and your family. Right. Of course.”

“It’s no big deal,” Zeb said, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

Kallus let out a huff of a laugh, turning to jab a finger at him. “Don’t you lie to me, I see those ears.”

They were both so thoroughly distracted that they failed to notice that they’d stop to have this conversation in the middle of a busy thoroughfare. They’d forced multiple people to walk around them in the hall, that is, until an annoyed passerby carrying what appeared to be a substantial piece of equipment strode right between the couple. 

“Okay, okay, it’s a little bit of a big deal,” Zeb admitted, pulling Kallus to one side of the hall by an elbow. 

“Hera’s behind this, isn’t she?” 

“I doubt she’s alone.”

Kallus nodded, eyes taking a moment to look the lasat up and down. “Are we going to be us during this dinner?” 

“That’s the idea, yeah,” Zeb said, reaching out for one of Kallus’ hands. The human had been fidgeting with his fingerless gloves, but allowed the lasat his hand, their fingers weaving together. “Hera said it was time to bring my boyfriend home for dinner.”

Laughing, Kallus gave Zeb’s hand a solid squeeze. They didn’t step any closer together but remained linked. The lasat wanted to tug his partner forward, to move their jaws together, and press a kiss to that nervous smile. 

Maybe someday they’d be that open on base.

“So you’ll come?” 

Kallus gave his hand another squeeze. “A pack of rabid rathtars couldn’t stop me from being there.”

|-o-|

Not wanting to be late for what was clearly a special dinner, Kallus cut out of his daily duties a bit early so that he would have ample time to get ready. He hit the refresher, showering and then spending more time than necessary fussing with his hair. Even after months, he fought the urge to wrangle the mess back into imperial regulations.

Zeb would have something to say if he did, though, so the hair products stayed put away.

The Ghost had been moved to a far edge of the landing field, it’s nose turned to the tree line for some semblance of privacy from the base at large. It worked to a degree though the small plume of smoke rising from beyond the ship had garnered the attention of many rebels working or traversing on the field.

Kallus ignored the curious looks over shoulders as he made his way towards it.

As it turned out, the plume of smoke was coming from the grill. Kanan and Rex were debating if they had used too much accelerant to get the thing going. It was a pointless debate, all it took was a glance at the flames to know they had.

“In my defense,” Kanan was saying. “I am blind.” 

Wedge and Ezra were sparring off by the edge of the forest, the soft clacking of the training sabers filling the air.

“We’ll just let it burn down before we start cooking,” Rex said. 

“Not much of a choice,” Kanan said. He turned his masked face and nodded in greeting as if he could see the former spy clear as day. 

Kallus waved and kept moving, they clearly had enough hands-on the grill as it was, so he proceeded up the ramp and into the cargo bay. Several crates had been pushed into place to form a long makeshift table. Sabine was kneeling on the deck next to an electronic device Kallus recognized to be Zeb’s stereo. He was about to ask where the owner was when he heard the telltale footfalls of a lasat filtering down from the deck above.

“Found those converters to fix it,” Zeb said, brandishing a small container in one hand and using the other to assist in sliding down the ladder. He didn’t look up until he reached the bottom, at which point his eyes met Kallus’ and a smile lit his face. “Oh, hey, Kal.”

Then he did something he had never done in front of anyone before, he leaned forward and rubbed their cheeks together in greeting. Kallus could feel the warmth rushing to his cheeks, He could see out of the corner of his eye that Sabine had definitely seen, smiling and turning away.

“Hello, Garazeb,” Kallus greeted, then as the lasat moved towards her, he turned and added. “Good evening, Sabine.”

“Hi, Kallus,” she greeted, turning to take the parts from Zeb, who was clearly settling in to help get the thing running correctly.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kallus asked, fidgeting with the closure on his gloves and trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. It had been a first, public displays of affection were not necessarily uncommon around the base, he’d never been on the receiving end of any.

“Hera could probably use a hand in the galley,” Zeb said. “Skewering things. We should have this up and running soon.”

Hera was indeed in the galley, with a chattering Chopper balancing a tray on his head stacked with already prepared kebabs. She was cutting up another of the blue peppers that were native to Yavin.

“Why hello, Kal,” Hera greeted, as Chopper had ratted out his presence the moment he’d reached the compartment door. 

She had absolutely no problem putting him to work, so soon he was sliding bits of meat, vegetables, and even fruit onto the metal skewers. It was strangely satisfying stabbing the pieces, and the comfortable, friendly way Hera chatted with him as they went was nice.

He could feel the ball of nervousness in his stomach loosen.

“Kanan claims the grill is ready.” Zeb was leaned in the doorway by the time Kallus turned to look, smiling as he watched them work. 

“Wonderful timing,” Hera proclaimed, placing what was to be her final skewer atop the tray Chopper was holding. “Chop, why don’t you let Zeb carry that one down.”

The droid became bleeping as if he was offended; she didn’t think he could do it himself. Hera affectionately rolled her eyes as she pressed the second tray into Kallus’ hands and waved them away, as the pair turned the corner into the hall she was placating him.

“I need you to stay here and help me prep the salad,” she said, and when he talked back, she let out an exasperated huff. “People will too eat the salad, maybe you need to go shut down and do a power cycle instead of coming to dinner.”

Kanan and Rex seemed to have things under control at the grill, so once they were relieved of the trays of food, they moved on to help set the “table”. Zeb’s stereo warbled in the background, filling the cargo bay with music that spilled out onto the grassy clearing. It gave everyone a spring in their step, a bounce to their task. Even Ezra made a little pirouette move after taking down Wedge in their spar.

Which was a mistake because, in his ending flourish, he wasn’t paying attention and had his legs swept right out from under him in retaliation, leaving both young men laughing on the ground. 

As the kebabs sizzled on the grill, Kallus had a drink pressed into his hand by Rex, deftly dodging Sabine’s outstretched hand. She trailed after the old clone attempting to convince him to let her have one. Kallus looked down into the cup, it was full of an amber slightly bubbling liquid he recognized as the ale many of the rebels had taken to brewing just off base. 

He took a testing sip of it, it tasted bitter and frothy, but definitely drinkable. Something to take the edge off he supposed, watching as Zeb mixed himself something that looked significantly stronger than ale. Another sip, this one longer, sucking down the brew. 

Perhaps a little too fast for his empty stomach, as he was nursing a buzz by the time dinner was ready.

“Kallus, saved you a seat right here,” Sabine said, patting the crate next to hers, which was just long enough that he and Zeb could sit on it, closely. The lasat clearly didn’t have any concerns for this, hopping over it and sitting while Kallus was still working out how to squeeze past the Mandalorian at a reasonable distance.

In the end, Zeb offered a hand, allowing Kallus to step up and over the crate before plopping down at last. Plates were being passed down the line, but Zeb kept snatching them before Kallus could and plating the food for him. 

“You’re the guest,” Zeb answered the unspoken question, when Kallus eyed him confusedly, hand still outstretched from the tray of yeasty rolls Hera had made. 

“Since when is that a thing?” Sabine asked, looking amused, and Kallus realized suddenly holding what was left of his cup of ale.

“Well, it’s a lasat thing, maybe.” Zeb was suddenly looking embarrassed, dropping a roll onto his own plate and passing the tray along. “When you’re a courting pair, and you bring your partner home to formally meet your family, you serve them.”

Kallus’ mind had locked up somewhere around ‘courting pair’ but the smile on his face as Zeb rambled out this explanation had to be lovesick, to say the least. Ezra said as much, enlisting a round of laughter from the table before the conversation moved on.

“A courting pair?” Kallus asked quietly, picking up a skewer and using a fork to slide the bits of meat and vegetables off onto his plate.

“Humans call it dating, relax,” Zeb said, before seizing one of his own skewers from either end and proceeding to gnaw one of the chunks of meat off of it. 

“Courting to become what exactly?” Kallus asked, hoping he sounded curious, not overwhelmed at the notion that Zeb considered them to be courting their way towards anything serious.

“A mated pair. Or a bonded pair. The translation could go either way, really. To mate is to bond,” Zeb said, so matter of factly as if they were just chatting about a planet they’d visited recently, not about his own heritage. 

Kallus nodded, returning the brilliant smile of his partner. He was just finding his voice when Ezra piped up from across the table.

“Look, I’m glad you’re courting, or whatever, but if we’re going to start talking about mating, I’d rather take dinner to go.”

Again the table erupted in laughter, and in the moments of distraction, Zeb slid an arm over Kallus’ shoulder and pulled him closer against his side. “We can discuss courting later,” he whispered.

“Yes, you can just give me all the required steps,” Kallus whispered back, punctuating this by rubbing his cheek against his partner’s. “On how to properly court a lasat, and I will execute them to the best of my abilities.”

Another throaty chuckle, with the faintest vibration of a purr beneath it. “I love it when you use execute romantically.”

At some point during the meal, Kallus’ cup seemed to refill itself. The people around him were happy, chatty, and entirely at ease. He hardly felt like he belonged there, but Zeb’s weight and warmth next to him reassured him that he very much did.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Hera declared from the table’s head, dabbing at her mouth with a cloth napkin Kanan had offered her. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the Jedi said, smiling in that way he only did when he was looking at Hera. 

“I need something sweet,” Ezra said, gazing up and down the table for the tray of sliced jogan fruit, which Wedge happily proffered. 

“So is now the time we start asking Kallus here about his intentions with Zeb?” Sabine asked, throwing a friendly elbow into his shoulder as he choked on his drink. Zeb laughed, and then suddenly rose to his feet as if to leave Kallus to the interrogation.

“Got a better idea, actually,” Zeb said, ignoring the pleading look his partner was giving him as he went to the stereo. They’d turned the volume down for the meal, but the lasat cranked it back up. A spirited song had just kicked on, and Zeb all but bounced back to the table. “Dance with me.”

If Kallus doubted hearing correctly, his partner’s half-bow and extended arm made the intention quite plain. He automatically took the hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet and then all the way into Zeb’s arms in a way they’d never done before in front of witnesses. 

“I can’t say that dancing is within my main skillset,” Kallus breathed out. He placed one hand tentatively on Zeb’s shoulder, his other was clasped in his partner’s. It was with relief that he saw Kanan urging a smiling Hera to her feet to join them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lead.” The lasat’s hand was warm on his back, Zeb had slid it between the shirt and jacket, large fingers splayed out, holding Kallus close as they began to move. 

His partner’s joyous bouncy energy was contagious, and soon they were both laughing as they cut a wobbly arc down the cargo ramp, as everyone from the dinner spilled back out onto the grass, all except Rex who had fallen back to crank up the stereo even further. Chopper spun his dome, warbling along. The kids both danced in drastically different styles in the vague vicinity of each other, and Kanan twirled Hera out until their arms were extended fully before pulling her back in.

Kallus had to concentrate on his feet and ensuring that each time he stepped, his boot found purchase on grass, not on his partner’s exposed toes. Zeb was all smiles, fanged teeth exposed, effortlessly twirling Kallus around as if he weighed next to nothing. 

“I do believe I’m getting the hang of this,” Kallus breathed, allowing the hand on Zeb’s shoulder to slide gently to the curve of his partner’s neck, thumb rustling at the edge of the lasat’s facial hair.

“Point’s not to do it right,” Zeb said, with a hearty chuckle. “The point’s to have fun trying.” Then after watching Kanan do something similar to Hera, the lasat dipped his partner. 

On the way back up, he managed to slide their cheeks together, a lasat kiss, in fluid motion with the dance. Kallus couldn’t help but smile, heart hammering in his chest, feeling lighter than air as they danced. The others had joined, Rex now taking slow waltz-like loops with Sabine. Wedge and Hobby now dancing with Chopper and Ezra, and as the song turned to something slower, Hera and Kanan snuggling in closer together.

“This went well,” Zeb said, slowing their pace, and following the blind Jedi’s lead in pulling his partner in for a slower dance. “Family dinner, I mean. Went well.”

“You were nervous,” Kallus said, it wasn’t a question though he was looking for confirmation as the lasat had been careful to hide all nervousness. 

“Shouldn’t’veShouldn’t’ve been,” Zeb said, turning his head, so that warm breath ghosted through Kallus’ loose blond hair. The lasat hummed some of the tune, which was soulful and sung in a language the human couldn’t identify. “Don’t get me wrong, I like spending time just the two of us, for obvious reasons,” here Kallus felt a large hand dip ever so slightly down and squeeze his backside, “but it’s nice to know we can spend time with the whole family, too.”

They swayed like trees in the wind, Kallus would like to say it was to the music, but he was pretty sure they’d lost the thread of the tune by then. I love you. The words came unbidden to the forefront of Kallus’ thoughts. It had probably been true for weeks, if not months, but he’d never been more sure of it in that moment. 

“Garazeb.”

The lasat pulled back, eyes meeting his partner’s, smile both warm and curious at the same time. I love you. Say it. The words dried up in his throat, what if Zeb didn’t return the sentiment? What if it was too fast? 

“All the time I get to spend with you is special,” he managed instead. “Even with the whole of the base around us, I am at my best next to you.”

Zeb looked to be at a loss for words, his ear’s did a rotation back, then forward again, eyes intense on Kallus’ until they slid down to look at Kallus’ lips. The kiss that followed said a lot more than any response his partner could have spoken with words, and neither of them reacted as a series of wolf whistles sounded from those behind them.

Chapter Text

"At the bitter end,

Salt and liquid blend,

From the corner of my eye."

- Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Fort Atlantic

|-o-|

Kallus knew the moment he saw Zeb that something was wrong, even if the lasat was trying damn hard to hide it. He knew the Ghost crew had been in some sort of briefing for a good long while that afternoon, and he knew the intelligence offices had pooled every piece of reliable information they had on the current state of Lothal for said meeting. 

It didn’t necessarily bode well, considering from what the former ISB agent had gleaned, the planet was on a very tight imperial lockdown. The kind of lockdown you couldn’t get through easily. The kind of lockdown that if you did make it through, you likely wouldn’t come back from. 

“What d’ya say we get some food and go eat it in your quarters today?” Zeb asked. 

“We can, sure.”

Zeb was quiet the whole time they were in the mess hall. Though he did smile when Kallus intentionally brushed his hand down the lasat’s back as they queued in the food line. 

He’d never seen his partner so preoccupied, nearly walking into people as they ventured with their food back across the landing field to Kallus’ personal quarters. 

“Is... everything okay?” He asked this as soon as the door closed behind him, gently prying the tray of food from Zeb’s grip to sit it down on the desk. 

“Yeah, I think,” Zeb murmured, then he crowded into Kallus’ space, pulling the man against him, nuzzling their cheeks against one another so that their facial hair slid together in friction had come to mean something very special to Kallus. “Let’s just eat. I was trapped in that meeting for what felt like forever. I’m starving.”

Kallus nodded, not trusting himself to speak without calling out the fact that Zeb was clearly avoiding talking about something. Instead, he pulled the chair out for Zeb and perched on the end of the bed closest to the desk so that they could both use the table. 

The silence was wearing on Kallus, so he tried to break it with small talk. “This cold noodle dish is better than I expected,” he began, “usually prefer my noodles warm but—”

“We’re going back to Lothal!” Zeb blurted out inelegantly, his fork dropping to his plate. 

“I figured as much,” Kallus said, carefully spearing a couple noodles in his fork and popping them into his mouth.

“That’s all you have to say?” Zeb was staring at him, looking a mixture of confused and hurt. Kallus chewed his food as fast as he could and swallowed it down.

“No, but I already know what you’ll say if I ask to go.”

The lasat softened, ears wilting. “You know how high you are on the Empire’s most wanted list, couple that with having the most recognizable facial hair in the galaxy, and being as well known as you are on Lothal...” Zeb trailed off, his hand had come up to Kallus’ face, clawed fingers gently running through the very facial hair he had just mentioned. 

“I could shave.”

“Don’t you dare.”

The tension broke as they both laughed. Zeb was leaning forward in his chair, his hand drifting to the back of Kallus' neck so that he could tug them together cheek to cheek, rubbing the scruff of their cheeks together first on one side, then the other. It ended with a brief touch of their foreheads against each other as Zeb inhaled deeply through his nose. 

For the lasat scenting was a very intimate and important act. 

“Believe me,” he said as they went back to eating, “I wish I could take you with us.”

“Perhaps I’ll just smuggle myself aboard the Ghost, and by the time Hera realized it’d be too late.”

Zeb chuckled. “Wouldn’t do you any good,” he said. “You’re being invited aboard the Ghost to accompany us to a rendezvous point, and then you ’n Rex will return the Ghost back to base.”

“You’re not taking the Ghost to Lothal?”

Kallus was rapidly losing his appetite. Meanwhile, Zeb was decidedly looking only at his food. 

“You kidding me? Thrawn knows that ship far too well,” he said, mouth half full. “Only thing that would make it more obvious is if it too had those sideburns.”

He was making jokes, deflecting from the seriousness of the situation. Kallus’ stomach was solidifying into a ball of DuraCrete. 

“How are you getting to Lothal? How will you get back?”

“Got an old acquaintance who’s gonna smuggle us past the blockade. Vizago,” Zeb said, and now he was really going out of his way not to look at his partner. “As far as getting back, there currently isn’t a return plan in place.”

Kallus didn’t remember deciding to stand, but the next thing he knew, he was pacing from one end of the room to the other. “I do not like this,” he said. “Vizago is a criminal.”

“Kal, we’re all criminals...”

“You know what I mean! And you’ve got no exit plan, no ship.”

“Look, that doesn’t mean we aren’t coming back.”

“No, it just means you have no idea when or how,” Kallus said, a desperate tone overtaking him. “And Lothal is under a HEAVY blockade.” 

Zeb rose finally to his feet, stemming Kallus’ pacing. “I don’t like this any more than you do,” he said, taking the human’s hands in his. “But we’ve got to do it for the kid.”

Kallus exhaled, deflating. He hated that inside his head was playing out scenarios in which Zeb died. Or was captured. Personally tortured by Thrawn. What if Thrawn somehow knew about them? The Chiss would undoubtedly take great pleasure out of taking someone so dear away from him. 

“Hey, breathe okay,” Zeb said, sounding concerned. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then trust me that I know, I know in here that this isn’t it for us,” Zeb said, taking Kallus hand and placing it palm down over his heart. 

“I know because I’ll come retrieve you myself if need be,” Kallus said, trying to draw reassurance from the steady beat of his partner’s heart beneath his fingers.  “When do you leave?”

Zeb’s grip on Kallus’ hand tightened. “Tomorrow.”

Kallus felt like the ground beneath his feet was crumbling away. “You’re staying here tonight, right?”

“I told Hera not to expect me at the ship tonight,” Zeb said, reaching forward with the hand not pressing Kallus’ into his chest to brush some of the golden hair back away from his face. 

Then they were kissing. Kallus let his hand slide up from Zeb’s heart to stroke behind the lasat’s ear, enjoying the appreciative purr this enticed. Next thing, he was being pushed down into his bed, as Zeb’s hands tugged off his jacket, the food long forgotten. 

Kallus’ fingers scrambled to release the armored bits of Zeb’s outfit, needing as he did to feel the full curves and contours of the lasat’s muscles. He was waylaid by his own shirt being pulled off over his head before his bare shoulder blades met with his bunk's mattress.

“Karabast, I’m going to miss the way you smell,” Zeb said, nuzzling the human’s chest hair, inhaling deeply. “You have no idea how badly the scent of you turns me on.”

“Right now, I have a pretty good idea, actually,” Kallus said, pushing his hips up against Zeb’s. Between them, despite the barrier of clothing, it was evident just how turned on they both were. 

Zeb let out a low growling moan, and when Kallus returned to his attempts to remove the armored pieces, he had help, and soon they were peeling down the top half of Zeb’s jumpsuit.

Their lips found one another in a hungry kiss, as Kallus felt fully for the first time what it was like for their unclothed chests to rub against each other, a thousand tiny sensations as the lasat’s fur tickled along every surface.

As the jumpsuit reached Zeb’s waist, he hesitated, though, hands coming to Kallus’ to still them. 

“I gotta make sure this is what we both want,” Zeb said, wrenching his lips away. “I know it’s what I want. I just need to know what you want.”

Kallus couldn’t help the breathy chuckle that escaped him. “I want to get you out of this infernal jumpsuit. I want to finally see this body I’ve been fantasizing about without anything on it,” he said, pushing up to rub his cheek against one side of Zeb’s face as he spoke, in that wonderful lasat kiss. “Then, I want you to help get me out of my pants because they’re feeling awfully tight right about now.” Now he switched sides, rubbing the other side of their faces together. “After that, I imagine you’ll be needing the lubricant in the bottom drawer of my desk, and I expect I’ll be having a mildly hard time sitting down tomorrow.”

As he’d spoken, Zeb’s breathing had gotten shallow, almost a pant. By the time Kallus rested their foreheads together, completing the gesture, it was apparent Zeb very much wanted the same things.

“Karabast,” he moaned, before they ground back into motion, divesting each other of the last remnants of their clothes.

(Click here to read all the spicy bits)

|-o-|

In the afterglow of their coupling, Zeb lie curled around Kallus, naked limbs tangled together, breath slowly leveling out. For the first time, he took a good look at the bite mark he’d left on his lover’s shoulder, wincing slightly.

He placed gentle kisses along with them. “Sorry, got carried away.”

Kallus let out what sounded to be a delighted sigh against the lasat’s chest. He gently extricated himself enough to look up into Zeb’s eyes. “Don’t apologize, I liked it.”

Zeb couldn’t help himself. At these words, he let out a soft grunt and nuzzled his head into the human’s neck. Kallus chuckled softly, and then Zeb felt his fingers drifting into the hair along the lasat’s back, gently stroking the fur down before pulling the hand away and repeating the gesture.

Soon Zeb found himself purring softly, the vibrations in his chest rumbling against Kallus.

“So much for taking things slow,” Kallus said, humor in his tone, his fingers still gently playing through fur. “I guess time is a luxury for people not at war.” Worry began to seep into his voice in that last statement, enough so that Zeb pulled back to look at his partner properly.

“Alex, it’s going to be okay,” he said, bringing up clawed fingers to card them through the human’s hair. “You know better than anyone how good me and the crew are at surviving. This won’t be the last time we get to be together like this.”

It was a promise he couldn’t be guaranteed to keep, but Zeb was reasonably confident in this statement. Kallus looked significantly less so, so the lasat kissed him to wipe the uncertainty from his face.

|-o-|

“This disguise you have selected is… quite something,” Kallus said, he had the ridiculous hat in his hands, turning it, examining it. All the while, oblivious to the fact that Zeb was examining him instead.

“Had to be,” Zeb returned, leaning on the small work table in his cabin on the Ghost. “To hide the lasat bits about me.”

“Those are all your finest bits.”

Zeb let out a chuckle that blended perfectly into the purr, beginning to rumble in his chest. He couldn’t help that any more than the smile that had spread across his face. 

“I still wish I was accompanying you,” Kallus said, the corners of his mouth twitching down. “I understand the reasoning, I just…” He let out a sigh, setting the strange hat back down on the bunk.

“Alex, it’s going to be okay,” Zeb assured, lifting himself up to reach an arm out for his partner. “I’ll be back, I prom—”

Kallus turned, finally, to look at the lasat. He pressed a partially gloved finger to purple lips to stem the words. “Don’t go making promises you may be unable to keep,” the human whispered. “Instead, promise you’ll do your best to come back to me.” 

“I promise to fight like hell to make it back,” Zeb said, his fingers firm on Kallus' wrist as he gently drew his partner’s hand down. “Besides, I want a bunch more nights like last night.”

The suggestion was evident in Zeb’s voice, triggering a heated blush to flood Kallus’ cheeks. “That would be the idea, yes. So stay alive.” 

I love you. Again it went unsaid, even now when the pair couldn’t know when they might see each other again.

Zeb crowded further into the human’s space, chest puffed out. The hand he’d placed to rest on Kallus’ shoulder slid towards the neck, a clawed thumb running along the curve.

“Wanting to see you again is going to fill me with quite the motivation to survive,” Zeb said, licking his lips.

“Good,” Kallus breathed, curling his fingers into the fabric of Zeb’s jumpsuit to pull him into a kiss.

Zeb did not hesitate, wrapping Kallus up in his embrace, attempting to memorize just how it felt. To remember the feel of Kallus’ weight against him. To recall the gentle way, the human’s fingers drifted into soft fur, ruffling, and tugging.

“You… gotta… promise… me… something… too,” Zeb said, between kisses, before pulling away to give his partner a somber look. “You have to promise you’ll take care of yourself while I’m gone: eat, sleep, don’t let idiot kids harass you.”

“You are as aware as I that I can hardly control if the youth of the rebellion harass me,” Kallus said, in an attempt to brush off the request, but Zeb stood his ground by refusing to be pulled back into the kiss.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Zeb retorted, scowling but gentle as he ran clawed fingers through loose blond hair. “I don’t want to come back here and find you half-starved, looking sick. Please, Alex.”

Kallus huffed in faux annoyance, then he pulled a long breath in through his nose then out through barely parted lips. “Very well. I promise to eat. I promise to do my best to sleep without you. And finally, I promise to use minimal force if absolutely necessary to rebuff rebellion bullies.”

“Much better,” Zeb replied, pulling Kallus in, wrapping the human up in a furry embrace. “Keep some meat on your bones, and I’ll make it worth it next we see each other, Kal.” He slid his hands down over the curve of his partner’s backside, enjoying the half-moan that Kallus let loose before kissing him again.

The comm in the cabin buzzed once. Then twice when they didn’t answer. It wasn’t until the third time that Zeb wrenched himself away, pounding the comm answer button.

“Yeah?”

“Ten-minute warning and I’m going to need Kallus in the cockpit whenever you’re prepared to part with him.” 

Kallus had sprung into motion packing Zeb’s disguise into the rucksack on the bunk, he coughed, sputtering at the implication.

“Alright, Hera, I’ll send him your way.”

“Thanks. And whatever you do, Zeb, stay away from those puffer pigs.”

Hera rang off, and Zeb let out a long breath. Moment of truth now, time was up. Kallus was gazing sadly down into the packed bag.

“Got something for ya,” Zeb said, moving around his partner to reach a drawer under the bunk. “It’s not much. It’s not what I wanted, but…”

He’d put out the word as quietly as possible to any rebels going off-world to bring back any glowing meteors or rocks if they found any. This wasn’t a meteor, but in a way, it was better. Zeb swallowed down the knot forming in his throat, plucked the small drawstring bag from the drawer, and turned to haphazardly shove it at Kallus with a mumbled “here”.

Kallus gazed back for a moment, eyebrows raised, before slowly, gently pulling loose the drawstring. The moment he saw the faint glow from within surprise overtook his expression.

“Now, we still don’t know what happened to yours,” Zeb said. “And this is far too small to be considered a proper meteorite. But it’s warm, and it throws light.”

“There are two of them.” Kallus had tipped the small pouch, allowing two small glowing stones to roll into his palm.

“See, that’s the best part.” Zeb plucked one of the two stones up. “One’s for you, the other comes with me. Got a special place for it right here.” Sabine had helped him make a small pouch, concealed along his belt, that he popped the gem into for safe keeping.

Kallus closed his hand around the stone, as the comm beeped again.

“He’ll be on his way in a second, Hera. I swear.” Zeb was hunched over the comm speaker when Kallus’ hand stroked down his back.

“Garazeb Orrelios, this is an incredibly thoughtful and romantic gift.” Kallus had tears in his eyes. 

“Now I’ll have none of that,” Zeb chastised. 

“I only regret that I have nothing for you,” Kallus said, the glowing stone clutched into his fist.

“I have my matching stone and a lot of excellent memories of the past few weeks. Got those holos we took stored on a data stick stashed on my bo-rifle,” Zeb said. “I’ll be fine.”

They shared one last kiss, tame in comparison to the one Hera had interrupted. Then Kallus, the more responsible of the two, urged them out the door. They walked hand in hand to the end of the hall, through the door, the snorts of puffer pigs could be heard.

“You will be sorely missed,” Kallus said, tucking his glowing stone into his pocket with his free hand. “You just better not get yourself killed.”

“I’ve no intention of dying,” Zeb said, leaning forward. It felt so natural now, kissing Kallus in the lasat way, scenting him. The man was always eager to participate, angling his face just the right way, bringing a hand up to touch the curve of Zeb’s neck. “I guess this is it. Alex, I…” Say it. Just say it.

“I know. I know,” Kallus said, pulling their foreheads together. “I do, too. Goodbye, Garazeb.”

“Until next we meet,” Zeb returned. Kallus released him then, stepping back to the door out onto the gangway that ran above the cargo hold.

He looked back, because of course he did, those golden eyes taking the lasat in from head to toe one final time. There were no more words to say. Instead, for the first time since Bahryn, Kallus nested one hand into the other and bowed in an old salute from Lasan. 

Zeb’s memory of his split-second decision to bid the then agent farewell in such a manner what felt like eons ago was clear in his mind as he reciprocated. He nearly reached out to stop his partner from ducking out of the hatchway door but Kal’s boots were already disappearing up the ladder by the time Zeb could get close enough to see.

Zeb wasn’t sure how long he lurked there, thoughts a mess. He barely registered the kids descending the ladder Kallus had just climbed, descending into the cargo hold to begin moving pigs. It was Rex who pulled him from his dwelling thoughts.

“So, you’re not going to help?” The old clone needled, pausing on the climb up to the cockpit.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not allowed near the filthy beasts. I scare ‘em,” Zeb said, stepping into the doorway and wiggling his fingers in a jokingly spooky manner. “Apparently, there's something wrong with my face.”

“Aw, well, at least yours is unique,” Rex placated before proceeding up the ladder.

“What is that, clone humor?” Zeb called after him, not expecting a response.

|-o-|

Kallus could feel the very slight heat of the glowing gem in his pocket, as he strode as confidently as he could into the cockpit. Ezra and Sabine were both setting out, and he couldn’t help himself, pointing out the nagging fact one last time.

“This friend of yours, Cikatro Vizago, is a criminal. He can’t be trusted.”

Sabine rose, a wry smile twisting her bronzed face. “We used to say that about you,” she said, walking past him without another glance.

“Yeah,” Ezra agreed, wagging a finger at Kallus. “Besides, Vizago has a legitimate business on Lothal now.”

That was not quite what the intel floating around rebel intelligence had suggested, Kallus turned, gaze following Ezra as he followed Sabine out.

“And who told you that?” Kallus asked.

“Hondo.”

At this, Hera let out an exasperated sigh. “Ezra.”

The young Jedi clearly didn’t want to discuss it any further. He was gone before anyone had the chance to ask anything more of him. 

“Don’t mind him,” Hera said. “He’s got funny ways he shows nerves.”

“You mean by not showing them at all?” Kallus didn’t sit, he stepped to the side, a hand resting on the back of the co-pilot’s chair. “It’s his homeworld, no one would blame him for being nervous.”

If it weren’t for her seat's slight squeak, Kallus might not have noticed that Hera had turned to look at him. “How are you holding up?” When he turned to address the surprising question, she gazed at him with that x-ray vision of hers.

“Why would I be anything other than fine?” Kallus asked. “I get to return safely to base. You all will be the ones risking your lives. Not I.”

“Only you’ve just realized that someone you need in your life risking their life feels the same,” she said. “I’ve been there.”

“Beyond that, I have only recently shaken free from the restraints of constant loneliness,” Kallus admitted, looking away from her, hand unconsciously going to his pocket, feeling for the stone. “Now, with Zeb off-planet, with you and the other specters off-planet, indefinitely, that loneliness will surely return.”

“Physically lonely for a bit, perhaps, but by now emotionally not quite so?” Hera asked, hopefully.

“That’s very true,” Kallus said, allowing her a smile, so she knew she wasn’t leaving him upset, he wasn’t. “I’ll never be as lonely as I was so long as Zeb considers me his partner. Even on separate planets.”

“That’s the rebel spirit,” she said. 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn did purport I had the heart of a rebel,” Kallus said. “Only, he meant it as an insult.”

“Always shrewdly observant, that Thrawn. Here come’s Rex, I’d better get going.”

She did a couple more things on the ship's system, then swiveled out of her seat and stood, suddenly serious, though he could understand why.

“You’re in command of the Ghost now. Take care of her,” Hera said, placing a hand on Kallus’ shoulder as she passed before turning to Rex. “I will want her back.”

Kallus stepped forward towards the Transparisteel viewport, looking at the stars scattered across inky blackness. “To think all the times I chased this ship, all the trouble it gave me,” he said, before sinking into the pilot’s seat. “And now, I’m in command of it.”

“You?” Rex asked, incredulously, turning back to Kallus, having just watched Hera as she left them. “Oh, no no no. She was talking to me.” He punctuated this statement by jabbing his own thumb back at himself.

“Why would she give the ship to you? I’ve commanded Star Destroyers.”

“I’d say you’ve answered your question,” Rex said, very nearly playfully but that edge they’d never quite dulled between them was present.

Kallus decided it would be best to acquiesce, stepping aside to allow the old clone the helm. He sank down into the co-pilot’s seat, trying and failing to ignore the jolt of pain that shot through his backside as he did so.

“Oh, don’t look so upset,” Rex said, misinterpreting the expression on Kallus’ face. “You can fly if you like.”

“It’s not that,” Kallus began, then realized he didn’t know where he was going with that statement, but the truth was definitely far too private.

Fortunately, the hiss of the airlock as Vizago’s ship disconnected was aptly timed to distract. The devaronian’s freighter floated off ahead of them, then the flare of the engines lit up before it jumped to hyperspace.

“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling,” Rex said. “But they’re survivors, you know that.”

There was a hollow void forming in Kallus’ chest, putting pressure on his lungs and stomach. He was unable to unfocus his eyes from the last point he’d seen the ship. 

“I do, yes.” His voice sounded far away, distant from where he sat, much like Zeb was now. “I only wish I could have gone with them," Kallus spoke truthfully.

Rex grumbled out a sound of approval. “That makes two of us.”

Silence fell between them, the only thing breaking it the sound of the buttons or toggles being utilized as they readied the Ghost for hyperspace.

Chapter Text

Zeb had known that the mission would likely turn into a crait spit show eventually, but he hadn’t bargained on it going off the rails before they’d even landed. He supposed he had put a little too much faith in the idea that Vizago could successfully smuggle five additional sentient lifeforms in, and a batch of puffer pigs, without getting scanned.

The moment the gravity locks clanged down on the landing apparatus, he felt a shiver of anxiety shimmy up his spine. He put on his useful face, helped scare up a diversion in the form of rapidly expanding pigs, and they managed to make it off of the Ghost, huddling up among some cargo containers to reevaluate how they wanted to proceed.

“Vizago went back for the pigs, didn’t he?” Ezra asked, sounding more curious than concerned.

“Yeah, but if anyone can weasel his way out of trouble, it’s him,” Kanan offered. He looks rather silly in shaded goggles. Then again, Zeb had little room to talk in the getup he was wearing.

Ezra considered for a moment. “I figure we can start at Old Jho’s,” he said. “He’ll know how to reach Ryder.”

“If he’s still there,” Zeb said. He had to say it, the kid needed to be prepared. Because the truth was, if the occupation was indeed as bad as it seemed to be, the likelihood a dive bar like Jho’s had survived seemed slim.

“We split up,” Hera said, stepping forward. “You, Sabine, and Chopper head to Old Jho’s to make contact with Ryder. Kanan, Zeb, and I will get us a transport.”

Zeb wanted to ask how wise it was to let the kids and the rusty old droid go off on their own, but the decision had already been made, so he set off hot on Kanan and Hera’s heels. “We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” he suggested.

“Good call, we’ll head in the direction of the markets, you head towards the industrial sector,” Kanan said, seizing Hera’s hand as they turned down a nearby street.

There was far too much imperial foot traffic on the ground, so Zeb made for the nearest building and used a drainage pipe running down the side to scale it. The rooftops provided a much better vantage point and much less resistance. There was definitely a strange lack of vehicles on any of the streets. 

He vaulted from roof to roof using macrobinoculars to check from a distance. It took longer than he would have liked, but sure enough, he found what equated to a parking yard full of vehicles, behind partitions and guarded by stormtroopers.

He pulled his comm unit from his belt, thumbing the button to activate it. “I found the speeders.”

“How many?” Hera’s voice asked. 

“Uh, all of ‘em I think,” he said, checking again through the viewers. “Been confiscated by the empire. Kind of convenient, actually.”

“Any storm troopers?”

Zeb let out a sigh. “I said convenient, not perfect.”

It could have been worse; most of the troops were low-level storm troopers. No death troopers. No ISB. He’d get a chance to knock some bucket heads around. He adjusted the large pack he was carrying as part of his disguise, and also to carry the few items they HAD brought with them. He longed to shed the thing, but he knew he couldn’t.

So the bucket heads maybe had a little better chance once he vaulted off the roof, literally landing on one of the guards.

Extricating the vehicle turned out to be anything but elegant. And Zeb ended up being grateful for the pack, as he nicked one of Sabine’s stick-on mines from within and used it to destroy one of the other speeders, blowing a hole in their perimeter and allowing Hera to drive the newly acquired vehicle straight through it. 

Kanan and Zeb had to half run to catch up, the speeder dipping with their weight as they jumped in.

|-o-|

The Ghost’s return trip to Yavin went by without any incident, and she now sat parked on the landing field, locked up securely. Both Kallus and Rex had the access codes should they need to get in, but as for the rest of the rebellion, it was made clear that the freighter was off-limits.

As far as the former ISB agent was concerned, he didn’t care how desperate command got for ships. The Ghost was going nowhere without its crew.

Or without him, for that matter.

They’d arrived as the sun set, and the base was winding down for the evening, which was actually unfortunate as far as Kallus was concerned. Not that it stopped him from going into the intelligence offices and throwing himself into some work for a while.

He knew he should go to his quarters and get some rest, but even as his eyelids began to grow heavy, he couldn’t bring himself to go. He knew Zeb wouldn’t be there. He wouldn’t knock on his door after a bit and join him for bed. He was gone.

|-o-|

As it turned out, acquiring the speeder was a lost cause. They made it to the kids out in front of what was clearly no longer Old Jho’s Bar, but were cut off before anyone could board. Zeb nearly didn’t make it off the thing before the vehicle was blown to bits.

“We need an exit, people. Fast!” 

Zeb hadn’t heard Hera that desperate in tone since the fall of Atollon. He was trying to find a way for her when the kid he didn’t recognize, but was clearly with Ezra and Sabine, piped up and led them back down the stairs and into the bar's lower level.

Zeb took the rear, smashing the door controls behind him so that no one could follow.

As it turned out, Jho had been using the tunnels for smuggling and aiding the local rebels. This might have been his downfall, but Zeb didn’t want to think too hard on that.

“There’s got to be a better way,” he groaned, as the others began down the ladder.

“You’re welcome to stay up here and find out,” Kanan said, as his head disappeared from view.

He could hear someone banging on the door he’d only just jammed now and realized that there was only one way forward. “I hate the sewers,” he groaned, hefting himself down, into the depths.

|-o-|

“Captain Kallus.”

Kallus jerked awake, a piece of flimsi stuck to his face as he sat up quickly from his desk. He wasn’t sure when it was, he had fallen asleep, but he had likely been asleep for a few hours as the earliest risers in intelligence were arriving.

He blinked, turning to see it was one of the junior analysts, a mousy female with a low bun on the back of her head that had brought him data tapes for perusal on occasion.

“My apologies, I was working late,” he said, plucking the paper from his cheek, setting it back down. He couldn’t even remember what it was he had been looking at when he went down. 

“We weren’t expecting you this rotation. They gave you a shift off.”

“Right,” Kallus said, standing and sliding on his jacket. “I had forgotten.”

She stepped aside, allowing him to sidle out of his cubicle. Hardly anyone else in the intelligence offices gave him a second glance as he made his way out. His neck ached. He rubbed at it absentmindedly as he made his way back to his quarters. At the very least, he needed a sonic shower before he went in search of caf.

Sure, he was off this rotation, which did not mean he would spend his day in his bunk sulking. For, he realized, that’s all he would be doing. Certainly, it would be better to keep busy instead. 

Now, just to figure how what to keep busy with. 

Logically he knew that no word from Lothal for a rotation was actually a good thing. They weren’t expecting direct contact from the Spectres, anyway.

Not yet, anyway.

Any chatter on the intelligence side someone would have come and gotten him, at least that is what he told himself as he took the mandated day off. He processed his own laundry, cleaned his quarters, and himself. That got him to lunch. 

Because he knew Zeb would want him to, he made sure to take the time to actually eat lunch. Though he didn’t hang around the canteen longer than he needed to, picking up something he could eat on the move and carrying it down one of those trails into the forest.

He ate in the shadow of one of the empty temples and tried to relax.

Once he’d eaten all he’d brought, he lounged for a while. Fishing the glowing gemstone Zeb had given him out of his pocket, he held it in his hand as he allowed himself to lean back against the slanted outer temple wall. 

By far, it was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given him, Kallus’ love for it greatly outscored the size of the trinket itself. He didn’t like carrying it loose in his pocket such as he was, it would only be a matter of time before he forgot and placed something else in the pocket that might damage it. Or that might cause him to accidentally drop the stone in retrieval.

He wondered if anyone on base had the tools and skill required to possibly turn the stone into a necklace. For his imperial career, Kallus had been made to wear dog tags around his neck below his uniform. It was for practical purposes, easier to identify a body with a proper tag, but he had come to miss the feel of something there.

The stone was slightly teardrop-shaped, fatter on one end than the other, it would make a fine pendant.

|-o-|

Their escape through the sewers did not go well. It seemed they’d wasted their time attempting disguises. By the time they climbed the final ladder out to the relative safety of Ryder Azadi’s ship Zeb was more than happy to shed his.

He scrubbed his hand down his face, listening to but not entirely keeping the thread of Ezra and Ryder's conversation. He heard the disappointment in the latter’s voice as he realized that the Spectres weren’t bringing further back up, but he was having a hard time focusing on it.

Down, fleeing through the tunnels, he’d said something so automatically it hadn’t even occurred to him the repercussions. ‘At least we’ll go down fighting.’ He hadn’t hesitated in willingness to die for the cause, even now. Even with someone he’d left behind. Someone he had promised to do his best to return to.

They’d been on the planet for literally an hour, and they’d already risked death and capture once. His promise was looking to be harder to keep than he’d anticipated.

The others had fallen quiet now, rolling towards the camp that Ryder was using as a minuscule base in the desert. It was nested between the tall domed rock outcrops that were so common on Lothal. There was only but so much room in the tents, and coverings already set up, so Zeb set out a little ways away to find himself a spot to relax.

“What have you got there?”

Zeb didn’t startle at the voice. He was far too used to Kanan sneaking up on him. He wasn’t used to Kanan, blind Kanan, seeing objects he was holding. Let alone things he hadn’t realized he’d pulled from its protective pouch until called out on it.

“It’s nothing.”

“Focusing a lot of your energy on it,” Kanan said, stepping closer and seating himself, cross-legged like he usually did to meditate. “It’s definitely not nothing.” The Jedi Knight held out his hand, palm up in silent request. 

For a brief moment, Zeb felt a rush of protectiveness rush over him. He closed his fist and pulled it away before coming back to himself. This was Kanan, who was as good as his brother. Kanan, who was as in love with his partner as Zeb was with his, and would never make fun of him.

Slowly, gently, Zeb placed the tiny glowing meteorite piece into his friend’s hand. 

Kanan examined it, but not with his eyes, with fingers and touch. Though, Zeb supposed, the Force might be involved in some capacity. “It’s warm.”

“Yeah,” Zeb chuckled, rubbing his neck. “It throws light, too.” 

“Like the meteorite from that frozen moon.”

Zeb blinked once. Then twice. He had absolutely no memory of telling any of the crew about the meteorite.

“I saw it once. In a vision,” Kanan said matter of factly as if they were discussing the weather. “Towards the beginning of his time as Fulcrum. He used to keep it on a shelf in his Imperial quarters. At the time, I didn’t know what to make of it.”

Questions tumbled over each other in Zeb’s head so quickly he couldn’t choose which to ask first. Before he could choose, Kanan asked a question of his own.

“Did Kallus give you this?”

“No, actually, I gave him one,” Zeb confessed. “They’re a pair.”

Kanan looked at Zeb. Not like an average person would, though he did turn his head as if he could see. “You acquired a matching set of gems, gave him one, and kept the other,” Kanan said. “That gesture… sounds familiar.”

Zeb’s blood ran cold, suddenly realizing exactly what he’d done. He remembered his parent’s stones vividly. A matched set of black onyx mined from nearby where they had met. His mother's was mounted into a bracelet, his father's inlaid into the metal collar of his guard’s uniform.

“Karabast,” Zeb mumbled, taking the stone back. “Courtship stones.”

“I take it you didn’t explain the significance,” Kanan said. “So, you’re serious about him.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t entirely realize what I was doing.” Zeb sighed, turning the glowing thing over in his hand. “Not that I don’t want that. I do.”

Even Zeb was surprised at his own sureness. He stowed the stone, trying not to start planning ways he could inlay it into one of his bracers. When lasat accepted the proposal of a courtship stone, it was meant to be worn visibly.

“And do you think he wants the same?” Kanan asked, his head had turned towards where Hera was in conversation with Ryder across the camp. 

“I hope so,” Zeb said. “I think so. I know war’s not exactly the time, but…”

“No, but I get it,” Kanan said, stemming further explanation. “I’m just happy to see you happy.”

They lapsed into companionable silence after that, both lost in their own thoughts. Tomorrow they’d check out this threatening new TIE defender, but they could relax for now.

|-o-|

The maintenance bay on Yavin IV was housed in one of the temples adjacent to the landing field. In here, the sound of powered machines and automated tools echoed off the stone walls. The rebel fleet was not strictly comprised of young ships, meaning that maintenance was an endeavor all its own.

Kallus found the machinist he was looking for hunched over a workbench within a makeshift booth of sorts. Large crates demarcated his work area, with makeshift shelves overflowing with tools lining one wall. A large, hot fiery kiln took up the majority of the space up against the actual stone wall.

The highest shelf, ledge or surface in the place was at hip height for Kallus, as the machinist was an ughnaught. Diminutive in stature but not in skill if the rebels he’d just spoken to were believed. 

“Go away, I have enough work to do,” the small man grunted, not looking up from what he was doing tightening the chassis on some complicated component. 

“As do we all,” Kallus joked, “But this is actually not rebellion work per se.”

That got the machinists’ attention. He pulled thick work goggles crusted with rust and grit off to see better.  He jabbed a tool in the direction of a chair sat in the corner of his work booth. Kallus didn’t need to be asked twice. He stepped inside and sat down.

The ugnaught went back to work without another word, finishing up whatever he was doing before being interrupted. It took a few minutes, but it wasn’t as if Kallus had anywhere to be. In fact, watching the machinist work was an excellent way to while away his afternoon if he was honest.

The final step required some welding, so Kallus accepted and put on a dark tinted face shield. It was as the ughnaught carefully lifted the welded item with insulated tools that he spoke again.

“Show me this task that is not work.”

Kallus pulled the stone from his pocket. “I’d like to wear this around my neck instead of these.” He fished his imperial dog tags out of his inner breast pocket of his jacket. He’d handed the stone over carefully, reverently, but not the tags.

Those were dropped haphazardly on top of the work surface.

“This is an important item?” The machinist seemed to know already, finding a clean padded tray to gently transfer the glowing stone onto. “Has personal value to you?”

“Very much so,” Kallus answered.

“The tags are your past. The stone your future. I understand.” The ugnaught examined him. “It will take a while. If you wish to wait, you should get us some caf.”

There was a run down caf maker in the high bay with a queue of mechanics waiting. Kallus didn’t bother with any for himself. He was having a hard enough time sleeping without an afternoon caf.

“Are you ready to say goodbye to ISB-021?” The ugnaught had clearly read the only legible aurebesh on the tags.

“More than you could possibly know,” Kallus answered, handing over the caf.

The two metal tags had been wedged into a smelting cup, which the machinist pushed into the fire's heat.

“They will become the setting, you see.”

Kallus didn’t see. The ugnaught was pointing to what seemed to be a packed down mold of sand. 

“You will see, soon enough. Name’s Ornoff.”

“It’s a pleasure, Ornoff. I’m…” Kallus hesitated, not wanting to go with the formal title. “Kal.”

There was little need to talk beyond that, as he watched the melting articles, losing their shape until all that was left was a molten puddle. He was put to work then, sliding on thick gloves to hold the mold steady while Ornoff poured the molten metal into the carefully dug out mold. 

“Tap it gently on the block. Settle it.”

Kallus wanted to ask how the machinist had known to include him so much in the process, but he accepted the unspoken agreement they’d forged. He did as instructed and then watched as the final layer of metal was dripped into place.

“Yours are not the first I’ve had the honor of melting down,” Ornoff answered the unvoiced question as he shooed Kallus back to resume what appeared to be delicate work prying the rapidly cooling setting from its mold.

This information shouldn’t have surprised Kallus, he wasn’t, after all, the only defector on base despite how some of his detractors might act. Of course the ughnaught understood the gravity of what they were doing, because he’d done it for others.

Though, he thought, perhaps not quite precisely the same way. He watched as the glowing stone was transferred gently and the spokes around the setting bent down to hold it in place. Once done, the chain was slid through a sturdy loop at the top of the setting and the ughnaught turned, hand extended, pendant dangling freely on the proffered chain.

 “Welcome to the rebellion.”