Chapter Text
Ch1
Lothal, New York. 1925
Smoke left his tanned lips as he leaned against the alley wall, one foot was propped against the brick the grips of his shoes holding it in place. He pulled the cigar from his mouth to blow the rest of the smoke out into a thick grey cloud that mixed with the atmosphere of the town. The man’s cigar was halfway gone when he heard the click of a gun. He smirked around the cigar already knowing who the holder was. Only one man was brave enough to even approach him so easily. He slid his bright green eyes to his right, landing on the gun that glinted in the noon sunlight. Then came that pale hand with its delicate fingers, at the other end of the gun was the angry scowl of an angel.
“Well hey there, Doll.” He purred, the natural baritone of his voice making the nickname come out as smooth as honey. The other man’s scowl deepened as his cheeks pinked beneath his carefully groomed mutton chops. His hair along with his eyes were the color of a freshly made draft, said eyes narrowed at the taller man.
“Garazeb Orellios, in accordance with the law you are under arrest for the following charges: Illegal manufacturing, transportation and consumption of alcohol.” Prohibition Agent Alexandr Kallus stated. “Do you have anything to say in your defense before I take you in bracelets?”
Garazeb or Zeb as he preferred to call himself arched a dark brow at the man. “Can I at least finish my cigar first, Doll? Its Cuban, very expensive.”
Kallus had no sympathy for Zeb’s expenses. “No. And I am not your doll.” The blush on his cheeks got darker as Zeb’s smirk widened as he pulled his cigar from his lips.
“Sure ya ain’t.” Zeb replied as he moved away from the wall standing in front of the agent. That simple movement reminded Kallus of just how tall the other man was. It also drew his attention to the half opened shirt the other was wearing.
Kallus wanted to avert his eyes from the other’s slightly exposed tanned flesh and dark chest hair that matched his equally dark hair that was tucked beneath a charcoal grey fedora. The sleeves of the white button up were rolled up just past the elbows showing of his haired forearms. His beard and side burns weren’t connected with a slight gap on either side of his beard, the facial hair suited him well.
*Why does he have so much hair!?* Kallus whined mentally. It was his main weakness along with tan skinned…tall..strong. NO! He blinked his eyes giving his head a slight shake to dislodge the thoughts he knew he couldn’t delve into.
Zeb just stood there his cigar tucked between his left fore and ring finger, his thumbs were hooked into his suspenders just above his slacks. “So, you takin me in this time?”
“Yes.” Kallus gritted out, reaching his hand beneath the back of his jacket. His hand came back into view holding a pair of thick handcuffs. Having learned his lesson the first few times he’d gotten Zeb into handcuffs the agent knew the Lasat Native was stronger than most men. “Once I get you to the Bureau you are going to be telling us where you’re gang bases.”
“Awe c’mon now. Don’t be a wet blanket, Kal.” Zeb moved a bit closer. “ ‘M sure there are funner conversations we could have.”
Kallus flinched holding his gun out straighter toward the man. “Don’t come any closer! Just stay where you are.” Kallus snapped. Zeb stopped moving, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Alright, I know when I’m behind the eight ball. You don’t need to point that gun at me, I ain’t gonna pull nothin.” Zeb tried to placate the agent. But the man shook his head.
“Like I’m going to believe that bull.” Kallus scoffed. “Put your hands out in front of you.” Zeb nodded, he snuffed out the cigar against the wall and lowered his hands down.
As he moved to put them in front of him, the sound of an explosion went off catching Kallus off guard. Zeb took the opportunity catching the other’s outstretched wrist in his large hand. The sudden tightness made him let go of the gun with a slight cry of pain.
“Looks like we gotta take a rain check on that conversation, Agent.” Zeb smirked. Kallus responded by attempting to punch the other’s face only to have his other wrist grabbed. “So fiesty. Keep that fire burnin for me next time, yeah?”
Kallus struggled as his cheeks burned with warmth. “You!”
Whatever Kallus was going to say was cut off by the honking of a horn at the end of the alley way. Zeb glanced over his shoulder to see their mode of transportation waiting for him. At it’s wheel was a teenaged boy with oddly blue hair.
“Zeb, quit trying to pet the agent and get the wiggle on!” The teen called out.
“No rest for the wicked, eh?” Zeb smiled back at Kallus before he quickly but gently shoved the man away before he ran down the ally. He couldn’t hear the sound of gun fire, but that changed as Kallus picked up his hand gun and fired at the man. Luckily Zeb was a fast runner and made it to the car before any bullets hit him. He pulled open the back passenger door and got in, the teen didn’t even wait for him to close it before slamming his foot on the gas and speeding off.
Kallus cursed to himself as he ran out of the ally to stand in the middle of the street. To his irritation he saw Zeb stand on the running board of the car, hand gripping the inside handle.
“Til next time, Doll!” Zeb grinned wickedly at the other as he blew a kiss at the agent. He got back in just as the car turned the corner.
Kallus felt his brow twitch as the shrill cry of police sirens filled the air accompanied by the scent of smoke.
As usual the Ghost gang got away in style.
*
The smoky haze that had blanketed the city an hour or so ago had lifted ever so slightly, allowing the spring sunlight to reflect brilliantly off of the chrome on the automobiles passing down the hand-paved brick roads. The air was filled with the sounds of a typical workday: the cacophony of various types of car horns, the whirring of the motors, and the occasional backfire; the footsteps of pedestrians scurrying to their destinations; the muffled conversations; and the occasional bubbly laugh of a child. The slight breeze that was now meandering through the alleyways and out onto the street carried with it the tinny sound of a phonograph; the woman singing on the record had a sultry voice crooning “I’m wiiilld about my daddy…I waaaant him all the time..”.
A fragment of newspaper, with a portion of the front page still intact, rolled its way further down the avenue with each passing car, narrowly missing the tires with their wooden spokes and the low-to-the-ground running boards. Perhaps the paper’s owner had merely misplaced it during an early morning business breakfast, or maybe a neglectful newspaper boy had let the wind carry it off. Occasionally the words on the front of the paper were within view as it tumbled along: LOCAL BOOTLEGGERS CONTINUE TO THWART AUTHORITIES!! The paper finally came to rest after a few minutes of being battered by the traffic near the front steps of an imposing building. The lower portion of the building was constructed of sleek marble with symmetrical ivy and oak leaf detailing around the windows and doors; the upper floors were red granite, with flecks of mica that glittered in the afternoon sunlight. The words, “Federal Office Building” were boldly, but artistically, stylized above the main entrance. Lothal City’s crest, composed of the native Loth-cat and Loth-wolf flanking a shield, each with a paw resting on the shield’s top, was present below the words in a somewhat muted fashion. The stairs were devoid of any pedestrians, until a pair of dark brown cap toe oxfords with golden-tan pinstripped approached, kicking the bit of newspaper away.
Kallus grumbled as he walked, or rather limped up the steps leading to the front door of the Prohibition Bureau. He knew he shouldn’t have tried to run after Orellios, the man was as good as safe when he got to the end of the ally. Kallus just couldn’t help himself and because of his stubborn determination he’d caused his old injury to act up. The Bureau’s office was a two story brick building that saw traffic mostly from agents, reporters and police officers bringing in drunkards. He didn’t rest as he got to the top of the steps, he shoved the front doors open with a loud bang before slamming them shut behind him not caring if anyone was behind him. The front room was made up of desks shoved either together or against the walls, metal fans blew trying to stave off the oncoming heat of summer. The sound of papers fluttering joined the quiet murmurs from the young men and women in the office. Many of the younger agents and interns moved out of his way as he stormed toward the short flight of stairs leading up to the higher ranking agent’s offices. The sight of his irritated expression was enough to make most anyone in the Bureau move out of his way. Most anyone.
“Kallus!” Kallus rolled his eyes in irritation as he turned to see Kassius Konstantine storming toward him. His blue eyes were greyed from his annoyance. While he was impeccably dressed in his rolled up white dress shirt and black vest, he still carried an air of danger around him as his shoulder holsters were very much visible for all to see. The man’s medium cut mustache twitched as he got closer to his fellow agent, making the man’s already sour mood worse. Konstantine had never liked him for multiple reasons, be it his knack for doing better on cases or his preference for men he was always at odds with the older man.
“Konstantine.” Kallus gritted out as the other came to stand in front of him.
“Once again. Once again, we get a tip off about that Ghost gang. Once again you go after them without your partner, and what a surprise you come back empty handed.” Konstantine admonished the man though they were roughly the same height the man made no secret about looking down on Kallus. “I’m starting to think you aren’t even trying to catch these…. Specters as they call themselves.”
“I can assure you, Konstantine, I am doing everything in my power to capture these rebels of the law.” Kallus stated looking the man in the eye. “I will capture them, though that may prove a bit more difficult. They are much more resourceful than any other gang we have come across.”
“They are simply a group of immigrants and orphaned disrespectful brats.” Konstantine waved him off. “Their leader is a woman, this office is just incompetent if they can’t outsmart a woman.”
Kallus felt his brow twitch at the sheer arrogance from the other man. He happened to catch the hurt expressions of the office’s women who to his knowledge were just as intelligent as their male counter parts. “Are you truly that blind, that egotistical?” Kallus growled out taking a step closer to the other man.
Their boss’s secretary could plan and talk circles around both of them and yet Konstantine’s sexism and narrowed views still blinded him. His narrow minded thinking is why he never caught as many gangs as Kallus. Underestimating people, even those considered ‘lesser’ led to many downfalls in history.
Before the two could dissolve into their well known arguments, the opening of the head agent’s office door on the upper floor cut off all noise in the room. From Head agent Thrawn’s office came not the man himself but his secretary: Arihnda Pryce. Her gaze was as cold and unfeeling as frozen steel, her bright blue eyes were just as hard. Her long navy skirt fluttered around her grey legging covered legs. Her slightly lifted leather boots that gave her a bit more height clicked on the stone steps as she came down to the first floor. Her sharply cut bob was covered by a blue felt cloth cap, blue gloved hands held a small stack of files against her chest. Despite the warmth outside and even inside she wore a navy cotton turtleneck, the only visible skin on her was her face where she wore minimal makeup. Her only jewelry was a plain gold cross on a thin gold chain that hung just above her breasts.
She was more conservative in her appearance, not showing as much skin as most women of today did. She never hid her judgement of the other women of the office that chose to show the skin of even hands and neck lines.
“Agent Kallus, it is good you returned.” She said her lightly accented voice carried over the silence. “Head Agent Thrawn wishes to speak with you, you are welcome to come as well Agent Konstantine.” Without waiting for agreement she turned on her heel and walked back up the stairs toward the office. Pryce was a no nonsense woman and proud member of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union. Her arrogance was almost on par with Konstantine’s though she didn’t flaunt it as he did preferring to cut people down to size with her judgmental looks and words.
The two men followed her not wanting to anger her nor their superior. Once past the door they entered into a room that wouldn’t look out of place in an artist's home. Paintings and small sculptures were scattered tastefully around the office, leather seating sat before a dark brown wooden desk. On either side of the room were ceiling high bookshelves with rolling ladders set on brass railing. Standing before the window was a tall man that just oozed cold intellect and intimidation. His short black hair was slicked back into perfect form, draped around his shoulders like a cape was a black long overcoat he never seemed to remove. The man turned to face them, his skin was almost ghostly pale as his reddish brown eyes looked over each of them. No matter how many times he met one person he always looked at them as if there was something new to find.
Head Agent Thrawn was of Chiss descent, a tribe that lived out in the wilds of Canada. There wasn’t much known about them except for the fact that they were scarily intelligent, smart enough to catch the attention of the US government. Thrawn was the only one who agreed to go to congress to learn the ways of civilization and he flourished much better than anyone could have predicted. He was schooled in the way of polite society and soon became one of the top agents the Bureau could spare. He’d come to Lothal almost two years ago and within those two years he’d brought down many gangs that had been operating long before the prohibition law went into effect.
“Agent Kallus.” Thrawn spoke quietly yet firmly as if he was trying to keep his natural accent out of his voice. “I see you have returned in one piece, reports said there was an explosion at the location the Ghost gang was spotted.”
“Yes. Sir, the teenage Manadlore girl Sabine Wren set them off after they got their load.” Kallus nodded. “I was not inside when it happened, attempting to capture one Garazeb Orellios.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Konstantine rolled his eyes, earning a glare from Kallus.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kallus asked.
“It just seems whenever you should be going after those other specters you focus on that Lasat brute.” Konstantine replied. “One would think you have an obsession with him, or something more… taboo.”
Kallus could feel that familiar burn of a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. By willpower alone he managed to knock it back down. “I know what you are trying to imply, Konstantine, and I do not appreciate it.”
“Yet you don’t deny it?”
“Enough, Agent Konstantine.” Thrawn interrupted drawing their attention back to the man. “We are not here to question Kallus’s interests or loyalties. We know where they lay.”
“Indeed, sir.” Kallus nodded. “I am merely trying to do my duty to this country and remove the stain of crime.”
At his statement Thrawn gave an acknowledging nod. “I expect nothing less from one of this bureau’s top agents. I know nerves are high trying to capture these Specters, I find a soothing cup of Earl Grey always helps with my nerves.”
Kallus wasn’t a big fan of tea, preferring lemonade instead so he shook his head. “Your offer is appreciated, Head Agent, but I have a lot of work to do if I am to find the base of that gang. I will take my leave now.”
Thrawn’s expression didn’t change. “Very well, Agent Kallus.” With the head agent’s dismissal, he turned and headed for the door. As he passed Konstantine he noticed the slight smirk on the man’s thin lips. Kallus just barely managed to hold in a groan of annoyance already knowing his orderly office cubicle was going to be a mess.
Leaving Thrawn’s office he walked a few doors down past Pryce’s office until he came to the office door with his name and rank spelled out in black letters on the frosted glass. Taking a calming breath he gripped the door handle and opened it.
Of course all around his room his carefully organized papers were scattered. The back window in his office was pushed open allowing the afternoon wind in. He knew he hadn’t left it open when he left earlier. Kallus hated that Thrawn didn’t want office doors locked.
Kallus walked into his office and began gathering up the papers from the floor, he was thankful they weren’t damaged or smudged. As he did there was a knock on the door frame. Scowling he expected to see Konstantine when he turned but instead saw Yogar Lyste, his partner.
Lyste was a young man of twenty six, an adult yes but his optimism and constant smiles made him appear younger. It was usually chalked up with his Asian ancestry. He wore a pale blue button up beneath a navy cotton vest, Kallus assumed he left his suit jacket in his own cubicle office. Navy slacks were perfectly pressed, solid black Oxfords shone in the office lighting.
“Kallus, its good to see you’re back in one piece!” Lyste smiled at the agent. “We heard that explosion all the way here! I’m so glad you didn’t get caught in it.”
Kallus looked at him, his expression unreadable. While it was nice for someone in this office to care about his wellbeing, Kallus learned years ago that getting attached even in this business could only hurt in the end. He tried to keep Lyste at arms length when he could, it was why he didn’t take his partner with him on the call.
“I appreciate your concern, Lyste, but I have a lot of work to catch up on.” Kallus stated setting the papers down on his desk. “It seems my window was left open after I’d left earlier, so everything was scattered.”
Lyste didn’t seem to take the hint of dismissal in the man’s voice as he came into the office. “Oh no, here let me help you pick them up.”
Kallus fought the urge to just scream at the young man to get out, his annoyance with the Ghost gang getting away again, plus his irritation at Konstantine for being a huge heel. He held his tongue but only just as Lyste picked up the remaining papers from the floor.
“Thank you, Lyste.” Kallus gritted out as they set their respective papers on the desk. “Now if you would please let me get back to work.”
“Of course!” Lyste smiled brightly at the man, he turned and headed for the office door stopping just before he walked out. “Oh me and a few of the boys are going to get a bite to eat here after a while, you wanna come with?”
“Yogar.” Kallus never used the other’s first name unless he reached his breaking point. The other realized this as his smile fell. “I have a lot of work to do, papers to reorganize. I do not have time for socializing. Thank you for the offer but I would appreciate it if you left me to my work.”
“..right. I got it.” Lyste said finally leaving Kallus alone in his office.
He honestly didn’t want to hurt the other’s feelings, but Yogar for all he tried wasn’t His real partner. That partner died five years ago, because of him. Because of a criminal, Kallus vowed to himself as he lay recovering and ALIVE in the hospital that he would bring down every single criminal who thought they were above the law.
His eyes slid over to the papers and pictures tacked to the wall over a map of the city. Red strings linked each one to a tack that was stabbed into various spots where the Ghost gang was spotted at one point or another. He walked closer to his map, knowing he was close to finding their hideout but still no closer. He looked at each picture having committed their faces to memory.
There was the Ghost gang’s leader, Hera Syndulla: Scarily intelligent and a gifted driver. From what he knew she had the appearance of a typical house wife and stayed wherever they based. According to reports she hardly left the base unless it was for big name clients. They’d done some digging on her discovering she was of half Greek, half Twilik tribe descent. That was truly all they could find on her. Next was Kanan Jarrus: They had records on him, growing up in St. Jedi’s orphanage in the big city of Corruscant several counties away, it was reported he had no family so when war broke out he was drafted at age sixteen. He served his country diligently as many young men did until he was blinded by a German soldier. Having barely escaped with his life he was honorably discharged. His blindness however did not seem to hinder him in the least, his cane was like an extension of himself and he wielded his weapon with almost exact precision. Then there was the orphan teenager Ezra Bridger, not that much was known about the fifteen year old other than he was a nuisance that lived on the streets from the age of eight until the Ghost gang took him in. He was a slippery little Loth-rat and a strong fighter, many times when they thought they’d caught him he easily got away. He was always accompanied by an Irish dwarf man who was only known by his nickname, Chopper.
Chopper was the Ghost gangs most elusive member, being only four foot four he wore children’s clothes and was able to throw his voice higher to even sound like a child. Kallus was ashamed to admit when he first started hunting the Gang he fell for the other’s trick. He tried to convince the ‘child’ that it wasn’t safe for him to be with these criminals.
Chopper informed him in his normal voice that ‘it was the only place he could bust peoples knee caps and get away with it.’ Before getting kicked in his good leg thankfully. Next in the gang was Sabine Wren, a colorful half Asian teenage girl. Like Ezra she liked to dye her hair, though instead of one color she would dye it dual colors changing them out every few months. Her family was from the province of Mandalor out of Japan, the Wren family was well known for their use of explosives along with their side business of being swords and guns for hire. He wasn’t sure how Sabine came to America but she did and was picked up by the Ghost gang.
Lastly, Garazeb Orellios, even in the picture he had a smirk of knowing he wasn’t going to get caught. The muscle, a bruno for the gang if he was to use the popular slang of the day. He was one of the few Lasat Native Americans left in the country, the rest having been wipped out years ago. From what he researched about the tribe they were trying to start an uprising much like the natives at Wounded knee many years before. Or at least that was what was written by the government officials. The few that were left lived on a reservation they called Lira San, despite being uprooted from their original home they made the best of what they were given even if it was not the best.
Kallus will admit though only to himself that the Lasat Man was very, very handsome. Tanned skin spoke of his heritage along with many hours in the sunshine, defined muscles spoke of years of fighting and lifting heavy objects. Kallus did remember the first time he was pinned in place by those strong yet gentle hands and..NO.
He let out an annoyed growl as he turned away from the smirking picture, he could not entertain those thoughts. Yes he was only interested in his own gender but Orellios was a criminal. A criminal that he needed to bring down, while fantasies couldn’t hurt he knew that if he divulged into them he would never find his way out. What scared him the most was he knew he wouldn’t want to.
*Across town*
Down by the wharfs of the docks one could get anything they wanted: jobs, food, alcohol and women. One such place was Azmorigan’s Emporium, at first appearance inside and out it looked like a simple diner to get food from. And it was, on the first floor. The second floor could only be accessed by asking for the diner ‘specials’. There patrons had their choice of good alcohol and beautiful girls to keep them company.
Azmorigan himself was a squat man with a ruddy face that spoke of an unhealthy lifestyle. His once white button up was stained in various places from food and drink. He rubbed his hands together gleefully as three of the specters unloaded his latest purchase of that year’s liquor.
“Ah as usual, Mr. Jarrus, you specters kept your promise.” Azmorigan smiled crookedly, not caring that the man couldn’t see it.
Kannan Jarrus turned his sunglasses-covered eyes toward the high pitched voice. His dark green dress shirt was rolled up showing his military tattoos that denoted his rank as a private.
“It wouldn’t be good business for us to break our word.” Kannan replied. “Long as you keep your promise of paying us our entire fee.”
“Of course, of course.” The shorter man waved his hand at Kannan. He shoved his dirty, sweaty hand into his cheaply made slacks pulling out a wade of money.
As Kannan took the money from Azmorigan, the rest of the gang unloaded the last of the crates. Zeb was easily carrying two over his shoulders, having shed his suspenders to make it easier. As he walked in and out of the building the women watched him in obvious interest and hunger.
“He is just the cat’s meow aint he?” one of the girls swooned, earning nods of agreement from the other women.
“Just peachy keen.” Another nodded.
“I read about the Lasat’s when I was still in school, they never showed any pictures. I feel cheated but I don’t think just a picture could to him justice.” One of them let out a small whine. “And it definitely didn’t lie about their strength.”
“You think he’s available?” The question had all of them perking up as he walked past them once more holding a crate. “Man like that must have as many girls as he can handle.”
“I wonder if he’d be up for more than one.” Another bit her lip coyly. “He looks like he can handle it.”
“Hate to break it to you girls.” A voice said from beside their spot by the bar. Sitting on a stool was a girl dressed in men’s clothing, light blue button up beneath a vest with multiple paint splatters, paint stained the hem of her black slacks making it appear she’d walked through orange and purple mud. Her hair was a deep blue with orange tips. “But Zeb’s, well.. how to put it to you gently?”
“He ain’t into Dames.” The teenage boy with blue hair called out as he walked by. He set down his crate with the others, pulling his paperboy cap off and running the sleeve of his patchwork jacket across his sweaty forehead.
“Yeah, that.” The girl jutted her thumb in the boy’s direction. She couldn’t help the smirk of amusement as the women all whined in disappointment.
“You’re serious? Him?” a woman pointed at Zeb as be brought in the last crate. “He’s…?”
“Yep.” The girl nodded. “No skirts for him.”
“Yeah he prefers chasing trousers.” The boy smirked. “Matter of fact he’s already got a set of trouser’s he’s trying to- OW!” The boy’s comment was cut off as a large hand cuffed him upside the head.
“Can it, brat.” Zeb growled walking by. The noise sent a shiver down all the women’s spins. “That was all the crates, time to go.”
“Aw but you can stay a bit longer right?” One of the girls asked walking closer to Zeb. He stopped at the door casting a glance down at the young lady, she was just to his chest and tiny. She was barely wearing anything dressed in just a robe and short nightgown, like most of the girls Azmorigan ‘employed’. She’d let the top part of the robe and thin gown straps ever so slightly slip off her shoulders leaving them bare.
It seemed she was trying to change his mind and entice him. From the confident expression on her face she’d used this technique quite often and it worked. Unfortunately for her it wouldn’t work on him. Like the brat tried to say he already had his eyes on someone.
“Sorry, Ma’am.” He tipped his hat to her, the gentlemanly treatment was one none of them had experienced in a long while. “But I’m set in my ways.” He walked out of the diner part leaving broken hearts and disappointment behind him, it was a common thing that happened around him. The boy came closer to the disappointed woman smiling.
“Hey, um, I can stay longer.” The teenage boy offered with a slight blush on his face. Before any rejection or acceptance could be given, the girl walked by snagging him by the ear dragging him out.
“No you can’t.” She said ignoring his protests and whines.
Outside, Kanan had finished taking the money from Azmorigan. “Thanks for your business. Let us know when you need more yeah?”
“Of course! The Ghost gang always comes through!” Azmorigan smirked. “This months party is going to be the best yet! All of your gang is invited by the way, I almost forgot to give you the directions.”
Azmorigan reached into his trouser pocket pulling out a slip of paper and a pen from his dress shirt front pocket drawing out a small map of a well known area. Usually when the man threw his monthly parties, he circulated them in different warehouses so agents and nosey do gooders couldn’t pin point them. Azmorigan carefully put the paper in the man’s hand smirking knowing the other couldn’t see it, he had a habit of doing things he knew Kanan wouldn’t be able to see.
“Make sure to bring that lovely boss of yours, I’d love to see her in person again.” He grinned filthily.
Kanan schooled his expression into a calm smile though he wanted to punch the squat disgusting man for even thinking about his girl. “I’ll be sure to pass the invite along. Enjoy!” Kanan turned, using his cane to feel the world around him he walked closer to the passenger side of the car where Sabine had the door open for him. Zeb sat at the wheel, waiting until Kanan was in and the door was shut before he turned the engine. Kanan passed the paper to Zeb who shoved it into his pocket.
The specters drove away leaving a happy Azmorigan and a disappointed group of women still mooning after Zeb.
They drove along the back roads, being sure to avoid the heart of Lothal, just incase any cops or agents were still looking for them. They soon left the city for the suburbs, many families lived in the area. Some were bootleggers who made their liquors in basements and in small sheds. The Neighborhood of Yavin was a safe haven for the producers, since everyone in the neighborhood were friends.
When police did get too close there was a watcher who signaled everyone to hide everything. Any children that lived in the neighborhood was watched by everyone when parents went to work, only children who were old enough to go were allowed to go. Children under age ten stayed home and was allowed to just be kids.
Zeb turned down Yavin Drive slowing the car’s speed until he got to their home of number four. It was an old English house, with outside wooden panels painted light grey while the roof’s wooden shingles were dark forest green. It was rather large for their small group but it gave everyone their own room. As Zeb parked the car the front door opened revealing a medium height woman in a long tan skirt, her cream color blouse just barely showing the light tanned skin of her shoulders. An emerald scarf was wrapped around her head while her long braids hung over her shoulders, the tips of them dyed the same color as her scarf. Beside her was a short man who could be mistaken for a school child in his uniform.
“Welcome home everyone.” She smiled brightly at them coming out of the house. She instantly went to Kanan who seemed to visibly melt as she touched his cheek. “Any problems? We heard a bit of Sabine’s explosion from here.”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Kanan smiled down at her. “It was mostly a distraction while we got away.”
“Yeah, we did all the work while Zeb got to distract Agent Kallus.” Ezra stated climbing out of the car. “He got the fun, easy job.”
“Now Ezra, you know he stayed outside so he could make sure the agent didn’t come in while we were still working.” Sabine smirked, walking past the boy. “He got the best job in his opinion.”
Zeb grumbled as the teens hackled him about his very obvious interest in the man. “Look, I did my job. End of story.”
“Yeah as long as your job involves seeing the agent you’d do it no problem.” Ezra grinned.
“How else is he gonna see his man?” Sabine added. “Maybe if he lets himself get caught he can see him whenever he wants.”
Zeb stalked past the giggling teens walking toward Hera. “Alright you two that’s enough. No more teasing Zeb, it's time to get ready for classes.”
Zeb grinned as the teens' teasing turned into groans of ‘pain’. He stopped just beside the other adults, turning to look at the pair. “Yeah, time for good kids to do some learning.”
“Aw but, Hera, we had to get up early today to make sure we got Rex’s shipment to Azmorigan.” Ezra whined. “And I had to do my paper route before then!”
“And I was up late last night sketching out my next piece.” Sabine added. Hera had no sympathy for the teens, not when it came to their education. While there was a school nearby, neither of the teens had the opportunity to attend the beginning of classes. Along with the fact that their transporting job was sporadic and they never knew when they’d get one.
“That’s not my problem. You both know the deal, after work it's school time.” Hera stated placing both hands on her hips giving them the ‘mom’ look. “Now you two go change into more comfy clothes and meet me in the school room.” Both teens knew better than to argue with Hera so with great reluctance, they trudged inside passing a grinning Chopper. They stopped in the foyer long enough to pull their shoes and boots off before thundering upstairs.
Hera smiled after her kids before turning her gaze to look up at Zeb. “So, Kallus again huh?”
“Don’t you start.” Zeb stated as he walked inside, he pulled his own shoes off letting out a sigh of relief once his feet were free. Growing up he never wore shoes unless it was winter time, it wasn’t until he was forced to join ‘polite society’ that he had to bite the bullet as it were and wear shoes and socks. Hera never really complained about him going barefoot at home so long as he didn’t track mud into her house after his nature hikes.
Leaving his shoes and socks at the foyer, he made his way toward the stairs leading up to the second floor. Along the wall leading upwards were pictures of many holiday’s, birthdays and a special bonding ceremony between Hera and Kanan. He smiled at each memory he’d been a part of rounding the first landing continuing upwards. The second floor housed each of their rooms with a couple extra guest rooms for when they had extra visitors. His room was just in front of the kids, should any intruders get into the home they’d have to get through him first.
Zebs' room wasn’t the neatest in the home and while Ezra complained about the smell, it was still his. Clothes lay strewn across the floor and over the corner desk and chair. His nicer clothes were hung up courtesy of Hera. Close to his bed hung a spear he’d carved and put together himself when he’d turned eighteen summers as was custom for his people. It was the only thing he had remaining of his village other than the clothes he’d escaped in. He shook his head not wanting to remember that day, he shrugged his suspenders off his broad shoulders before pulling at the buttons of his shirt, shrugging it off as well. He rolled it up, tossing it into an ever growing pile at the corner of his room. The white low necked muscle shirt pulled tight against his chest as he stretched his arms over his head.
With a grunt he flopped onto the bed laying on his back. Zeb turned his head to grin at the picture of the angel named Kallus he had attached to the wall. He’d taken the picture without the man realizing he was until after it had happened, hence the enraged scowl on that beautiful face. He thought back to five years when he’d first encountered the man, it hadn’t been the best first meeting but… it left an impact in his mind and heart.
The new prohibition law had taken effect, putting any and everyone who worked at a brewery and bar out of work. One of those people had been Rex Fett and his brothers, all of them had served in a platoon in the army just above Kanan. After the World war had ended Rex and his brothers came home and opened their bar/brewery earning a good bit of money. They’d offered jobs to the adults in the group so they were all making money. Until that law came through and shut them down, putting them all out of work.
Deciding to stick it to the government, particularly Wayne Wheeler, they’d turned to crime starting the Ghost gang of which Hera was the brains. Before they’d been solely employed by Azmorigan they’d done odd jobs for locals during one of these said jobs Zeb had been outside keeping watch for police when someone got the drop on him.
Or at least they tried to, what got his attention the most about the man was the fact that they’d gotten right behind him before he realized they were even there. With a deep growl he’d spun around at the click of a gun grabbing the person by their arms, the second attention getter was how the stranger was able to avoid his fast grabs. They fought and struggled for a couple minutes before Zeb had finally grabbed the slippery man. He pinned the other against the brick wall with his arm across the other’s throat, his free hand holding the man’s wrist so he didn’t get shot between his eyes.
The third and final, as the morning sun spilled into the alley Zeb was struck speechless as he saw Agent Alexandr Kallus for the first time. Kallus was all for trying to get away and keep fighting but Zeb, well he was pretty sure he could hear harps in the distance. Ever since that first meeting Zeb always made sure he went on jobs even when he wasn’t needed just so he could run into the man. Kanan and Hera never stopped him from trying to pursue the other’s affections with only caution to be careful. Zeb got comfortable ready to settle for a nap, he’d planned on going out that night. Who knew maybe he’d find an angel out all on his own? With a smile at the thought he slowly passed out.
*
The amber-hued light from the overhead incandescent bulb illuminated the typed words on the page.
To: Alexsandr Kallus
Special Agent
In re: 45-A.
TREASURY DEPARTMENT
U.S. PROHIBITION SERVICE
LOTHAL, NEW YORK
From: Brom Titus
Special Agent in Charge
U.S. Prohibition Service
Chicago, Illinois
There is enclosed herewith a picture and description of one Hondo Ohnaka, alias Captain Hondo, alias C. Ohnaka. Last September “Captain Ohnaka” was apprehended while transporting alcohol along the Pacific highway, near Naboo, Oregon, by Prohibition Agent Lorth Needa. Subsequent to that arrest “Captain Ohnaka”acted as an informant for Needa, but at the same time he attempted to get his own loads of liquor past the officers. Finally, “Captain Ohnaka” jumped state bonds, and disappeared.
It is now come to our attention that “Captain Ohnaka” is running an operation between Lothal and our jurisdiction of Chicago…our jurisdiction of Chicago….our jurisdiction of Chicago..
Agent Kallus realized at that moment that he had been nodding off and reading the same words for several minutes. With a hiss of frustration, he shook his head as if trying to shake away the tiredness….to hold it a bay just a bit longer. Looking at the large stack of papers on his right, he had to admit that he’d accomplished quite a bit once everyone had finally left for the night. With no Konstantine harassing him and no Lyste barging in with questions or attempts at conversation, Kallus was almost finished. He just needed to get through this last document…but his coffee mug was emptied long ago and he didn’t feel motivated enough to make another pot. With a sigh, he absent-mindedly ran a hand through his hair…and swore the second he felt the slick brilliantine on his fingers.
The sound of slamming desk drawers broke the silence as Kallus rummaged through several before he managed to locate the handkerchief he kept for exactly this occasion. Wiping his fingers quickly, he gave the handkerchief a glare before tossing it back in the drawer. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small silver pocketwatch on a chain and popped the cover; the hands indicated 2:45 am…time to call it a night. With another sigh, he closed the cover gently and placed it back in his pocket. This last report could wait. Placing the documents in his desk, Kallus locked them up and before he grabbed his coat and fedora, he checked the window to make sure it was shut tight. He never left that damned window open.
The hallways of the Bureau were empty, and Kallus’ footsteps echoed loudly down the main corridor. He turned towards the front doors and gave a slight wave to the building’s overnight security manager who was tinkering with a radio on his desk.
“Good night, Tech.”
The manager didn’t even look up from his radio, a screwdriver in one hand and some wires in another. “Working late again I see, Agent Kallus…you might as well live here, you know.” Kallus gave him a hint of a wry smile and just shook his head.
He hadn’t even made it to the door before he heard a gruff, but cheerful voice call out, “Agent Kallus!!!! Good teh see ya!!! Ya heading out for tha night?” One of the security guards, SGT Wrecker, lumbered out of the shadows with an enthusiastic wave. The SGT was a friendly man, but at 6 feet tall with a build like a professional wrestler, he was not to be underestimated. He was a war veteran and could easily make short work of any trespassers.
“Yes SGT. I think I have done enough here for today.”
The guard let out a bark of a laugh and responded, “It’d be morning already, Agent. I’ll see yah in a few hours then?”
“I will see you in a few hours, SGT.”
____
The night air was cool and refreshing compared to the heat from earlier in the day, and the breeze remained. An occasional dog barked in the distance, but the city was, for the most part, peaceful and silent. At this hour, even the guests of the Supper Clubs and the patrons of the Cinemas had long since headed home. With Prohibition in effect, things were definitely calmer at night. It was wonderful, he couldn’t understand why people insisted the prohibition law was a bad thing when this was the result. With a cautious glance up and down the street (one could never be too careful), Kallus turned and headed down the sidewalk. He lived only a few blocks away from the Bureau, and the walk to and from home often helped him clear his head.
He had made it about a block before deciding to pull out his pack of Chesterfields; pausing just past a streetlight. There was a darkened alleyway off to his left, so Kallus did a half-hearted precautionary glance as he dug in the pocket of his light wool black overcoat for his lighter. He probably wouldn’t need the overcoat in another week or so, with this weather. Satisfied that the alley was empty, he brought the lighter to the end of the cigarette and gave it a click.
Nothing. Undeterred, Kallus tried again…and again. Exhaling with frustration out of the side of his mouth, he gave the lighter a shake and tried once more, with no improvement. He practically slammed the lighter back in his pocket and was about to pull the cigarette out of his mouth when he heard a familiar voice call out from the alley…soft, rumbling, and silky….
“Need a light, Doll?”
The breeze brought not only the sickly sweet smell of pre-summer but an unusual scent..a heady mix of tobacco, amber, and..cardamon?… wafting out of the alley, hitting Kallus almost at the same time as Zeb’s words. Kallus froze; the Agent in him wanted to whirl around, pull his gun, and arrest the man. But the man…Alexsandr Kallus….was exhausted, frustrated, in pain, and not up for a fight…not right now. He stood there for what felt like forever, grappling with his will, until a light flickered to life in the alley. The small flame emitting from Zeb’s lighter cast his face in a soft light and sent shadows across his shoulders; he lifted his head ever-so-slightly, his bright green eyes peering out from under the brim of his grey fedora to lock on Kallus’ own golden eyes. Zeb was casually leaning with his back against the alley wall, much like he had earlier in the day.
“Do you make a habit out of skulking in alleys at any hour?” Kallus finally said sharply and with a glare, turning about to face the criminal fully and removing the cigarette from his mouth.
The lighter went out, and then relit with a click. “Only the alleys near yeh.” Zeb said smoothly, a smirk spreading across his face. “C’mon now. How ‘bout that light?”
“Orrelios, I should put you under arrest…”
Zeb responded to that statement by holding the lighter out a bit further from his face and clicking it off and on again with a mischievous smile.
With a slightly exasperated sigh, Kallus started to step forward and retort something business-like, using the cigarette as a pointer. In his tiredness, he nearly stepped in a small pothole and had to suddenly shift his weight…awkwardly to his bad leg. On a normal day this would not have been an issue, but after the events of this morning and the long workday, he had overdone it. He winced and then quickly changed his expression back to his usual glare…hopefully Orrelios hadn’t noticed.
Zeb leaned forward and pushed himself gracefully away from the alley wall with one foot and took a step forward, placing himself within reach of the Prohibition Agent. He relit the lighter and held it up, cocking his head ever so slightly. Kallus’ glare deepened, but after a moment of hesitation…he placed the cigarette in his mouth and leaned forward, bending his head towards the flame.
“There ya go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Zeb all but purred, flicking the lighter off once the cigarette was lit. The alleyway was almost plunged back into darkness, but there was enough light from the streetlight and the now-lit tip of a cigarette for the two men to be able to see once their eyes adjusted.
Kallus took a long draw, eyeing Zeb suspiciously the whole time, before he removed the cigarette from his lips and exhaled. “What exactly are you doing in an alley at this time of night?”
Zeb grinned and crossed his arms, his sleeves rolled back down and buttoned to fend of the crisp evening air. He had a smart, dark vest on now as well. “Might ask ya the same thing, Doll.”
The sensation of heat rose in Kallus’ cheeks in tandem with his frustration; thankfully, it was dark enough that he knew the other probably couldn’t fully see this reaction. “For what must be the hundredth time, Orrelios,“ Kallus said vehemently and using the cigarette to point at Zeb’s chest for emphasis, “I am NOT your ‘Doll’. What I am is a decent, law-abiding citizen heading home from a prolonged work day at a respectable job, which I highly doubt you even comprehend.”
The Lasat man gave out a low chuckle and took a step forward. “Aww, yer breakin my heart, Agent. But I’d be happy teh show ya what I can, as ya put it, comprehend…”
Kallus was prepared for this maneuver, but he realized too late that he was not exactly prepared to take several steps back with no knowledge of the dark terrain behind him. The end result was an odd step and a half back and a shuffle to the left…putting him with one foot in the same pothole that he had narrowly avoided several minutes ago. A combination of exhaustion, food deprivation, and his old leg injury caused him to stumble ungracefully and low hiss of “Shit!!” slipped through his gritted teeth.
In a burst of movement born from both his profession and his war years, Zeb lunged forward and caught Kallus by the right wrist with his left hand and gave him a slight tug forward, then reached out with his his right hand and grasped the Agent’s left shoulder, stabilizing him. He held on long enough to make sure his support was no longer needed, but was surprised when he was not fought off immediately. In fact, it seemed like several moments before Kallus even made an attempt to brush Zeb off. Something wasn’t right. Zeb let go and held his hands up slightly in front of him in case Kallus tried to further defend himself. The blond man partially raised his fists as if preparing to fight, but then dropped them after seeing Zeb’s posture. The cigarette was gone.
“Ya…ya look unwell, Agent..”
“Like I stated, it has been a long, trying day.”
“Nah, ya look…hurt. Noticed it earlier. Seen it before today, too. Ain’t somethin’ new…”
“Orellios, really-“
“It’s Zeb.”
Kallus was now glaring again, but after a moment he relented ever so slightly.
“It’s nothing…”
Zeb folded his arms and gave the Agent an uncharacteristic frown, his flirtatious demeanor replaced with sincere concern. “Nope. Not buyin’ that load of baloney.”
Kallus regarded him with an even more intense glare and was about to retort before Zeb spoke again. “Looks teh me like an old leg injury…”
He didn’t think it was possible, but the agent’s glare seemed to deepen. Zeb brought his hands up again, “Don’t get yer feathers ruffled, I mean no harm by it..actually…yeh…that might help…” He then gestured at his own pockets. “Mind if I grab a bit o’ paper and a pencil?
Kallus’ glare melted a little bit in confusion as the criminal before him began to rummage in his pants pockets and vest pockets before producing a few fragments of crumpled paper and a pencil. Zeb moved towards a crate at the edge of the alley and used it like a table; he picked the largest piece of paper from his stash and began to scribble something down. Curiosity got the better of Kallus and he actually took a few steps forward, stopping just off to the side of Zeb and now back out on the street, trying to get a better view of what the other man was doing.
“Always carry some paper with me…always need teh write stuff down..” Zeb stated as he finished the note. He then replaced the other bits of paper and the pencil back in his pocket and offered the written note to Kallus. “Here yeh go. This’ll help. It’s a family thing, helps with aches ‘n pains.”
“What is it?” Kallus asked, reaching cautiously for the paper and then trying to read it in the dim streetlight.
“A recipe. Helps, I promise.”
Kallus read what he could and then looked at Zeb with raised eyebrows and a hint of a sneer. “This is a recipe for…some sort of tea??”
Zeb laughed and turned back into the alley, calling over his shoulder as the darkness began to swallow him up, “Yer welcome!!”
“Orellios, I swear, this is the most ridiculous-“
“It’s Zeb!”
Kallus looked down the alleyway with a frown, then looked at the paper, and then looked back down the alleyway. He could no longer hear the other man’s footsteps. He was alone. With an exasperated sigh, he crumpled the paper into his own pants pocket and continued on his way home. He only looked back once.
*A little while later…*
Kallus stared at the four-story apartment complex in front of him with dread.
He entered the building and headed towards the emergency stairs. The elevator has been out of commission for nearly a month and there has been no signs of maintenance repair, forcing the residences to use the fire emergency stairs instead. Typically, the climb to his one-bedroom apartment was tolerable, however the throbbing pain in his leg made the journey nearly impossible without pausing to catch his breath. Kallus tightly gripped the metal railing and began his grueling climb up to the third floor. By the time he reached his level, he was out of breath and his forehead was lightly damp with sweat. He only had to pause twice from the pain.
He limped down the hallway to his apartment door and reached into his right jacket pocket for his keys. His stomach dropped as he only felt the crinkled-up paper and his empty lighter. Kallus frantically searched the rest of his jacket pockets. He did not want to walk all the way back downstairs, return to his office, and risk another humiliating interaction with Orrelios. Twice in one day is enough.
Abandoning the search in his jacket pockets, he patted down his slacks’ and heard the muffled clink of keys. Kallus let out a large breath of relief. He pulled them out, unlocked the door and entered his modest yet plain apartment. He immediately removed his wingtips shoes by the door for tomorrow. He slipped off his matching navy-blue fedora and suit jacket and placed both items onto the adjacent coat stand next to the front door. He placed his keys inside a porcelain bowl on top of the entry cabinet; a habit he enforced to prevent the inconvenient morning search for his keys.
Before continuing down the entry hallway and further inside his single bedroom apartment, Kallus rummaged through his coat pockets once more and pulled out the crumple piece of paper. He smoothed out the wrinkles and stared down at the messy handwriting of Garazeb Orrelios.
Ingredients:
3 Tbsp. Ginger Root
3 Tbsp. Turmeric
3 Tbsp. Cinnamon
1 Tbsp. Loose Green Tea Leaves
¼ Tsp. Cayenne Pepper
½ Lemon, Juiced
Instructions:
- Fill a 2-qrt pot about ¾ full with water.
Add all ingredients and bring to boil on stove.
- Reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes.
- Remove from heat and allow tea to cool off.
Strain into a cup and enjoy Doll ;)
*Drink twice a day, morning and before bed*
Kallus scoffed down at the note. Cinnamon? Cayenne Pepper? How could simple ingredients that he could get at the grocery story help with his chronic pain? This all must be some absurd joke. Kallus walked down his bare hallway, crumpling the paper in hand, until he reached his open kitchen and adjacent living room. He turned towards his paper waste basket next to his kitchen counter and with a smirk, dropped the paper ball inside.
Kallus expected to feel triumphant about his decision to discard Orrelios’ laughable attempt to relieve his chronic pain, however, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed and saddened at his own action. He continued to stare down at the crumpled paper, his hand twitched as he debated whether to leave it with the remaining trash or to snatch it back to hold and cherish. Kallus didn’t even realize that he was bending down to grab the note until a sudden meow jolted him upwards.
Kallus turned his head towards the noise and smiled, shaking his head at the sight in front of him.
Kallus shakes his head with a smile and head over to see a pale blondish white lothcat pawing at the window, meowing insistently to be let him. He let her in and Mouse immediately jumps on the counter. Kallus opens a cabinet, pulling out a can of cat food and opens it to feed to Mouse. Mouse rushes over and eats, while Kallus is absently petting her back.
While petting, Kallus remembers the first time he met Mouse. It was in the alleyway next to his apartment. He was taking out his trash to the communal trash can, when he see the lothcat stalking towards the rats that surrounded the trash for scraps. However, due to the lothcat coloring, the feline was easily spotted and unable to catch any rats. Kallus stalked forward, staring, until he blinding kicks a soup can and scare the rats and the lothcat. The lothcat hissed and ran off. Kallus threw away his garbage and he believed that would be the last that he saw the kitten. A week later, he was taking his trash out again and hears the pitiful sounds of loth-cat cries and the cruel laughter of teenage boys. As Kallus enters the alleyway he see a group of four boys trapping the kitten in a corner between the trashcan and the brick wall, throwing stone and tin can at the loth-kits head. The loth-kitten looked skinnier, most likely starving from its inability to catch dinner. Unable to watch anymore cruelty, Kallus yelled at the boys and they scattered, leaving the kitten staring and hissing at the agents. Slowly, Kallus approached the kitten, took of his jacket and wrapped the kitten and brought it inside. It took a while and a lot of scratched and bites before the Loth-cat trusted him, and even longer for her to heal and return to a healthy weight. One day during the summer heat, he forgot to close the window before he left for work and when he returned, he found the loth cat missing. He thought that would be the end of it until later that night he heard meowing from the balcony window. He leaped up to find the blondish white lothcat waiting to be let in with a dead mouse at her feed as a gift. The next day, Kallus went out and purchased a collar that proudly stated her name, Mouse. That was nearly three years ago and has been, sadly, his closest companion.
He was pulled out of his memory by Mouse rubbing her face in his face. He looked over to see that she has finished eating and demanded cuddles. He looked over at the note on the counter and back at Mouse. “I don’t need anyone else. And I certainly don’t need his help. I have you, don’t I Mouse?” Mouse stretched and let out a chirp that kallus deduced as approval. Kallus snatched the note and looked at it once more before tossing it in the garbage bin. “Let’s head for bed.” Kallus grabbed Mouse from the counter and walked into his bedroom and put her down on the covers before heading over to his bathroom. On the bathroom counter were many facial products, typically target for the female audience, however Kallus used them anyways. He went through his nightly routine before shutting off the lights and changing into a light t-shirt and his boxers before climbing into bed.
He turned to look out his bedroom window and found the moon. Based on its position, Kallus instinctually knew it was nearly 4 and that he would have to wake up in 3 hours for another day of paperwork. He just prayed that his office wouldn’t be in shambles when he returned. Mouse crept from the bottom of the bed onto Kallus’s lap, and laid her chest down over right leg, purring away in an attempt to heal his ache and pains. Kallus petted her fur once more as thanks before closing his eyes and nodding off to sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will be a good day.