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Hera knew grief like a lover. She lost Kanan and Ezra, her all-but husband and son, in such a short time that it cast a shadow that stretched into years. Jacen was the most precious little starlight, but there was still a paleness to the world. It would take a long time to heal, long enough that the war might be over. She thought the rebellion was starting to really thrive, though, starting to make headway, but then came Rogue One. Scarif. The Death Star.
Hera stumbled off the Ghost in a horrified stupor. That battle station blasted an entire planet into dust. It burned half a million people into ash. It felt like Atollon and Lothal and Batonn and everything else just stacked onto each other like an unclimbable mountain of evils. Behind her, Zeb lumbered down the cargo ramp. There was no doubt that he was thinking of Lasan. The Empire destroyed his world with foot soldiers and weapons, but what could that vile thing have done to his home? What chance did anyone have, really. High Command confirmed that Leia received the plans, but the Tantive IV missed its check-in. The Rebellion survived on hope, but at some point, hope and luck fell away.
“Chop, did you catch where Zeb went?”
Into the jungle. If he went up a tree again, I am not jetting up to get him down, he warbled. Hera patted his dome and let her fingers trail until they fell back at her side. She hoped that wasn’t the case right now. Twi’leks just weren’t meant to climb. The rocky hills of Ryloth didn't count.
“Wouldn’t ask you to, buddy,” Hera followed Chopper towards a little path beaten into the dirt. Zeb liked to walk it on balmy nights, and so did she, but Hera knew just how much the trees called to him, reminding him of home. She followed Chopper a bit off the beaten path towards a small clearing halfway between Massassi base and the Cherek airstrip. He whistled a grumpy little confirmation that they’d made it to Zeb’s “secret hiding spot,” and while the droid seemed to hate Zeb with a single-minded passion, he understood how important he was to Hera. Chopper didn’t even call him names this time, but he did wheel away with a mischievous little trill, perhaps going to add a little static charge to Zeb’s bunk to balance out the momentary kindness. From the sound of Zeb’s rumbling, low voice, she knew he was there, but from the way he was humming gentle words, Hera guessed he wasn’t alone.
For a moment, she considered leaving him alone with whoever he’d come to mourn with. But she changed her mind when he whispered ashkerra. She didn’t know much Lasana, but Hera knew that word meant love. Zeb called Jacen by that little endearment more than he said the kid’s name. When he was still a baby, she’d worried Jacen would grow up thinking his name was ashkerra or ad’ika if Zeb and Sabine kept watching him all the time. Whoever Zeb was with let out a deep, pained yell. If Zeb loved them, they were family, too, and Hera came here to be with her family.
Pushing aside some vines, she saw that Zeb was thankfully on the ground. He had his back to her and was rocking back and forth, cradling someone in his arms.
“It’s not your fault. We couldn’t have stopped ‘em this time, you saw that.”
“But I should have known. I was there all the time! It was hiding in those stupid databanks and I never found it. Not then and not now.”
That sounded like — it sounded like Kallus. Surely it wasn’t, though. Zeb may have forgiven the man and formed a functional alliance with the ex-ISB agent, but love? Not possible. Not when Kallus destroyed so much that Zeb held dear.
“Cassian’s dead. That girl is dead. All of them, and just like Atollon it’s my fault for not figuring it out —” he was cut off when Zeb pulled him in tight, muffling the words against his chest. Hera’s own grief was held back by her rapid thoughts. Cassian Andor was a Fulcrum agent. Cassian and Kallus basically ran the Fulcrum program together. The crying man in Zeb’s arms was definitely Kallus. But why?
“Alexya, Sashurra, it’s not your fault,” Zeb ran his claws through his hair with all the tender familiarity of a lover. He expertly skirted his thumb away from Kallus’s ear and kept each pass long, brushing all the way through the shaggy strands. Kallus squirmed away from Zeb’s hold and brought his hands up to touch Zeb’s face with the same kind of ease.
“When I saw the Ghost above Scarif, I — Zeb, what if I’d lost you?”
“I’m still here.”
“But you almost weren’t. And it would have been my fault, too.”
Zeb shook his head. He didn’t say anything to dissuade Kallus this time, even though he would have been right. The only people who had concrete evidence of the Death Star’s existence had been the messenger, Bodhi Rook, and the rest of the Rogue Crew. Even then, the destruction of Scarif wasn’t their fault either. In the history of the galaxy, nothing like the Death Star had ever been built. It didn’t matter how sharp Kallus was with Imperial slicing, no one went looking for the impossible.
“I’m not going anywhere. Y’said it yourself, once, I just don’t know when to give up,” Zeb’s voice carried the kind of humor that threatened to drown in irony and sadness. Her stubborn Spectre Four likely would die because he refused to give up. Kallus knew this too, and he rolled his eyes.
“I know you can’t,” he said, eyes locking onto Zeb’s face, “But promise me anyways. Tell me you’ll survive this war.”
Hera noticed that he didn’t say “we.” By the way his shoulders hunched, Zeb noticed, too. Instead of answering him, Zeb snaked his big hands up to frame Kallus’s face. The image was surprising to Hera; somehow, Kallus’s face rested perfectly in the palms of Zeb’s hands and it didn’t look wrong when Zeb brushed his thumbs over Kallus’s cheeks.
“I promise,” Zeb whispered before leaning in and kissing Kallus sweetly. Their mouths were incredibly different, but they slotted together perfectly. They must have done this a thousand, thousand times. Neither moved to deepen the kiss, they just held it softly like the war and their past didn’t exist so long as they shared breath.
It sent a pang through Hera’s heart, making her miss Kanan fiercely. She wondered if he was watching from somewhere out in the Force. He’d probably be baffled but amused by the idea of Zeb and Kallus together.
That’d be like me kissing a clone! Her memory of Kanan spluttered indignantly. More often than not, she remembered him blind, and his sightless eyes widened in good humored shock.
Yes, love, she thought back at him, but you must admit, Rex has grown rather handsome in his old age. Hera smiled inwardly as her memory of Kanan lifted his eyebrows to his hairline before laughing brightly.
In front of her, Kallus and Zeb were leaning their foreheads against each other. They hadn’t untangled from each other yet, but Hera wasn’t squeamish about stepping into their little clearing. As bits of dry brush crunched under her feet, Kallus flinched and tried to sloppily extricate himself from Zeb’s lap. But Zeb just held him there, whispering “It’s okay,” again.
“I’ll admit I didn’t expect this,” Hera said by way of greeting, “I also don’t understand it. But I know we could all use our family right now,” She sighed. Kallus paled further and looked sheepish.
“I’ll leave you with Garazeb, then,” he made no real move to leave though, still trapped in Zeb’s durasteel grip. Looking between them, Hera agreed with Zeb. After today, after losing so much, it didn’t make sense to hide anymore. When she looked at Zeb and Kallus hiding the jungle, she saw a shadow of what she had with Kanan. She wished she hadn’t spent so much time ducking into alleyways and trying to be discrete. If it meant she had to get closer to Kallus, so be it. She wouldn’t deny Zeb his love. Hera rested a small hand on Kallus’s shoulder, holding him down just as effectively as Zeb’s strength.
“No, Kallus, you’re family, too,” She slipped down to the ground and rested her head on Zeb’s shoulder. One of her calves rested against Kallus’s leg and she was amused by how natural it felt. Comfortable for the first time in hours, she let her eyes flutter closed. Together, they basked as the sun set on a ruinous day that thankfully found a way to make her family bigger instead of smaller. After a long moment of rest accented by Zeb’s rumbling purrs, the silence was broken.
“So how’d you find us anyway?” Zeb asked.
“Chopper led me here, he said you go here when you want to be alone. But I guess you haven’t been alone out here,” Hera buried herself deeper into Zeb’s warm flank like a physical reassurance.
“No,” Kallus answered, “We haven’t been alone.”
“Speakin’ of alone, Chop’s not wandering around here is he?” Zeb interjected with a frown.
“He wheeled off somewhere. He’s probably checking on the mechs he pretends he doesn’t like. That, and there’s always AP-5 to bother.”
The sound of a holocam proved her wrong though. With a maniacal blatting laugh, Chopper wheeled away, filing the picture into the “Important Organic(s)” folder in his memory bank. Hera would have to ask for a copy later. Chances are, the picture had already been sent to Sabine. She would surely add an artistic reimagining to her growing list of art projects.
“Does Sabine know?” Hera suddenly thought to ask.
“She does,” Kallus spoke softly, petting Zeb’s shoulder with faraway eyes. Hera took a moment to appreciate him. It’d been about three years since he properly joined the Rebellion and he was markedly softer. His face was fuller, his arms looked stronger. He’d become a new man after leaving the sickly grip of the Empire, something she never thought would have happened. But his eyes were still sunken and haunted. Hera saw sparks of love in his eyes, too. He looked at Zeb warmly as he curled his fingers in his fur. Noticing the way he’d trailed off in distraction, Kallus repeated himself.
“Yes, Sabine knows. She’s known for about a year at this point. I'm a little surprised she didn’t tell you,” Kallus let out a little huff when Zeb jostled him with his shoulder.
“Hey now, Bine can keep a secret,” Zeb said, sounding mock offended. Hera remembered the darksaber training and the mission to Mandalore. The secrets that girl held would eat a lesser person alive. It must have been a nice change of pace to keep a secret that wasn’t so deep and dark. It may seem a little twisted at first glance, but after everything they’d been through, not many were going to begrudge love in whatever form it came.
“I just hope she didn’t find out by walking in on you,” Hera was only half joking. Zeb shook his head.
“She found us curled up in my bunk. Hells, I think Kal still had his boots on.”
“Kal?”
“Or Alex,” the man replied helpfully. “Alexsandr if you must. But Kallus is fine,” he paused and wrinkled his nose like he was questioning his next words. “Or Kal.”
Hera had no plans on calling him Alexsandr. It felt wrong on her tongue. She was a kind woman who held very few grudges, but Kallus becoming Spectre-adjacent would come with a lengthy adjustment period. But Zeb looked hopeful and happy that Kallus had offered up his names. It was obviously something big, Hera knew how the Empire stripped its soldiers of everything but their obedience.
“Kal, then,” she knocked their legs together and Kallus pressed back. “But mostly just Kallus.”
The sun dipped well below the treeline and the chill of the jungle night started to slip into the air.
“We should probably head back to the ship,” Zeb suggested. The cries of the shyracks were getting louder and no one wanted to be caught in the dark when those menaces sprung up. He looked over at her with determined eyes, wordlessly insisting that Kallus was coming with them. Surprising even herself, Hera knew there wasn’t a question about it. Of course he was coming home. The bunks in Zeb's quarters came down to connect into a big bed, too.
“That’s a good idea, Zeb,” she agreed, shifting from his side to stand up and brush off some dirt from her flight suit. Zeb helped Kallus stand. The man was still shaking a bit. The gentle conversation had soothed them all for a moment, but Scarif was creeping back into their bones. Hera suspected that Zeb would break later tonight, curled around Kallus. For now, though, he would be strong, doing exactly what he needed himself to do.
Hera led the family, Sabine fought for the family, and Zeb was strong for the family. She wondered what Kallus would bring to the table, or what he already had brought from the shadows.
The three of them walked back to the Ghost in silence. Zeb and Kallus had broken apart, not ready to announce their relationship to the base. Hera made a note to coax them into the open so they didn’t lose time to hiding. As they boarded, Zeb threw a hand around Kallus’s shoulders and steered them towards his bunk. Zeb threw her a nod as they left, grateful that she understood them, even if it was only a little bit.
Hera smiled and left for her quarters. She would rest easier, knowing that no one in her family was truly alone tonight.