Chapter Text
Zeb peers down to the IBS agent, taking only a short moment to decide that, yes, working together is going to be the best chance he has of getting out of this cave. “Alright,” he kneels beside his injured enemy and sets his bo-rifle down, “we’ll work together.” He reaches over with his gloved hands and picks up Agent Kallus’s stolen bo-rifle.
As he takes a moment to examine it, emotion begins to bleed from the weapon, however, before he is able to process what emotions are seeping from this bo-rifle, Zeb concentrates on not listening to whatever pain might spill from its stitches in history. He doesn’t want to know whatever thoughts or feelings his fellow guardsmen died with holding this rifle.
“I see you modified it for close quarters fighting.” He looks away from the bo-rifle to meet Agent Kallus’s gaze that has been watching him intently. “Impressive.” Returning to the task at hand, Zeb uses the ground as leverage to extend the bo-rifle, “but you shouldn’t have it,” he just barely keeps the disdain out of his voice while he pushes it against the agent’s leg, “it’s not a trophy.” He doesn’t take as much gentleness as he supposes he usually might have with the human’s injury. As is evident with the squirming that starts. Glancing back up to the agent’s face, Zeb attempts to reign his emotions back in before they escalate any further. “Now hold still.”
Agent Kallus lets his pain escape through gritted teeth while Zeb works on trying to firmly set and wrap his injured leg. After a moment, Zeb takes a step back to give the Agent room to stand. And though he struggles, he does bring himself to his feet. “I didn’t take it as a trophy.” the agent’s breathing evens out as he stands himself up, the agent drags his gaze up to meet Zeb’s. “The Lasat Guardsman I faced,” Agent Kallus almost seems to hesitate, but he pushes forward, “he fought well,” he tries to convey a sense of earnesty through his eyes and voice, but Zeb is finding it harder to keep his emotions at bay, certain that disgust is present on his face, he tries once more to hold himself in this moment. Instead, Zeb tries to focus on how open Agent Kallus is being, he can feel nothing but raw honesty and vulnerability through the Ashla coming from the man in front of him. “...and died with honor.” Agent Kallus’s next words hit Zeb like a shuttle. “He gave me the rifle before…”
While the agent trails off, Zeb’s eyes widen as he feels… something crashing around him.
“The Boosahn Keeraw.” Zeb’s voice comes out just above a whisper. This… this doesn’t make sense. The Ashla… The agent isn’t lying. That is certain. Why? Him? What…
“The what?” Completely lost, Agent Kallus has his full attention on Zeb.
In return, Agent Kallus has Zeb’s attention equally. “The Boosahn Keeraw,” Zeb repeats, louder, and he shakes his head, still trying to wrap his mind around his late comrade’s decision, “Lasat warrior way.” Zeb brings his attention back to the agent. “When one is defeated by a superior foe,” Zeb raises his own bo-rifle, trying to figure out whatever possible reason it is that his fellow guardsmen had to give this Imp his bo-rifle was, “he gifts his weapon.” It is… only one who fought with the utmost honor to their opponent… They have to be superior in more than just physical skill.
This doesn’t make any sense.
Suddenly, Zeb is regretting not allowing Agent Kallus’s bo-rifle to tell him its story.
Under Zeb’s gaze, Agent Kallus evades his watch. “I was…” The agent shakes his head. “I was only doing my duty.” Agent Kallus almost attempts to meet Zeb’s eyes once more, but quickly aborts his try. And Zeb takes a half turn away, unable to recognize what his warrior brother saw in this man. “It was nothing personal.”
He recognizes no such traits in the man in front of him. “Yeah, well, what the Empire did on Lasan,” Zeb can feel his anger and pain reaching his throat, almost tying his vocal cords into knots, but he presses onward. He locks eyes with his enemy. “I’ll never forget it.”
Never.
—-
Taking the leap, Zeb just barely makes it to the edge of the ceiling. He tries to hoist himself up as one of the cave’s creatures tries to take a bite out of him. Both unfortunately and fortunately, neither are successful. He looks away from the cave below to see where…
Above Zeb stands the IBS Agent, bo-rifle charged and aimed. Zeb curses under his breath.
Agent Kallus shifts the bo-rifle slightly and Zeb’s body goes rigid for a moment, bracing for the burn of the gun, but it never comes. The heat grazes just past Zeb and he watches as it hits the creature in the cave before it makes another attempt for Zeb. Shock washing over him, Zeb turns back to The Agent.
He is met with a hand being extended to him.
Maybe. Just maybe.
Zeb reaches out, their hands meet, and Kallus lifts Zeb up from the ledge he dangles from. Once Zeb is pulled to safety, Kallus’s leg gives out from beneath him, sending him falling back. Still studying the human, Zeb moves to stand as Kallus begins to speak above the howling wind between them.
“Better activate the transponder.” Standing, Zeb helps Kallus to his feet. “It’s a lot colder out here.” Once the man is on his own two feet, Zeb reaches down for the transponder and the meteorite. “We won’t last long.”
“Yeah,” Bringing the stone to his chest, Zeb offers Kallus a small grin, being eaten is something he wishes he hadn't even gone through once. “but I’d rather freeze than be eaten.” His eyes catch on the bo-rifle in the agent’s hands and he freezes, but not from the cold biting into his body.
Kallus looks from Zeb to the bo-rifle for less than a moment before returning it to its owner.
Zeb accepts his weapon.
Still only a maybe, but… Zeb files notes on the Agent away. Maybe there is more to him. Maybe not. I still don’t have confidence though. This hasn’t been enough for me to understand why he gave this Imperial of all people rite to the Boosahn Keeraw.
___
It's been a number of hours since their escape from the cave of monsters. Less than an hour since Agent Kallus finally gave in to his need for sleep. And his body in to the need for warmth, traveling towards the nearest source of it.
And that is how Garazeb Orrelios currently has an IBS Agent curled on his shoulder.
Zeb studies the agent's face for a while, as if those freckles could tell Zeb the answers burning in him. His attention moves from Kallus's face to his bo-rifle.
All he has to do is touch it and be willing to hear it and Zeb might get something. Might be able to figure out how or why this man next to him was deemed worthy by his brother in arms for the rite to that bo-rifle.
Without disturbing the sleeping man, Zeb removes a glove and makes a reach for the weapon. His fingertips brush against the fabric that the bo-rifle is slotted against and he stops. Claws just barely a hair away from the bo-rifle. Emotions and ghosts of memories right there.
What would knowing change? This man is still an imperial agent, still one of the imperials responsible for the acts committed against my people. Would knowing what happened in that fight change anything about this man right now?
With his ability, Zeb is all too familiar with being left dissatisfied by the past, being left feeling emptier than before. He knows he may regret learning the story more than if he lets it remain buried.
Sighing, Zeb retracts his hand and re-gloves. That day is behind them both. Zeb has his family and Lira San; and Agent Kallus has his Empire. The past is over and it should stay buried. Nothing can come of it right now.
Zeb looks out to the frozen wasteland of the moon.
Whatever might happen might happen. Whatever has happened cannot be changed.
Kallus lets out a sigh in his slumber, shoulders tense for a moment before relaxing once more.
Change can happen anywhere. It may not happen, but it can. And that will be up to Kallus, no one else. Not Zeb. Not his fallen honor guardsman. Not the Empire. Not the Ashla.
Zeb shakes his head as he looks away from Kallus.
Maybe I'm just overthinking this. This may be the only time a truce is called. He could very well just return to his empire and pretend this never happened. Forget today.
Despite trying to not think too deep into the situation, Zeb continues to go back and forth with himself until Kallus's tranquility through the Ashla lulls him to slumber as well.