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It wasn’t often that Alexsandr Kallus was recruited to help with repairs to the Ghost, he was always happy to lend a hand with things. He knew that very often, after one of Captain Syndulla’s “very exciting landings”, the Ghost was in desperate need of repairs. It was often all hands on deck to get the ship flying again, and Kallus apparently had a trusted pair of hands.
He was currently helping Rex rewire the busted electromagnet system in the cargo bay. He wasn’t quite sure how it had been damaged, but he remembered very clearly the day that the very same system saved his life. It would be too great a risk to fly without it.
“Give it another try,” Rex called to him from where he was elbows-deep in the Ghost’s wiring.
Kallus ran another diagnostic. “Something is still off,” he mumbled upon seeing the multiple warnings flash on screen. “Here, Rex… Let me take a look at…”
Before he could finish his statement, he heard the frantic beeping and squawking of a droid in distress. He watched as Chopper rocketed into the cargo bay, nearly shouting unintelligibly. The droid bumped into his leg, immediately grabbing Kallus’ pantleg with one of his manipulators and pulling to get his undivided attention. As if his attention could be anywhere besides the panicked droid.
“Hold on, Chopper, I can’t understand you. You’re speaking too quickly.”
The droid repeated himself, this time slow enough to where Kallus could understand what he was saying.
I accidentally killed Zeb.
Chucking lightly, Kallus turned toward the droid. “I’m sure you didn’t kill Zeb. I couldn’t even manage that when I was working with the empire…” The droid didn’t let him finish his thought.
No, I’m serious. Zeb is unconscious outside. I need you to help. I don’t know what to do.
Kallus stopped immediately and looked over at Rex for a moment. Upon seeing the mirrored concern in the clone’s eyes, he looked down at Chopper. “Where is he?”
Pulling on Kallus’ clothes once again, Chopper rushed out of the cargo bay, the pair followed closely by Rex. Chopper was strangely silent as they exited, which made Kallus even more anxious. It must have been a pretty bad situation if Chopper was asking for help.
Outside the bay, just to the left of the ramp, lying next to an open electrical hatch, was Zeb’s unconscious body. Kallus’ eyes widened as he rushed past Chopper toward his crewmate. He knelt next to the lasat, tapping gently at his face. When he got no response, Kallus placed his fingers on Zeb’s neck, desperately searching for a pulse. Rex was mirroring him on the other side, checking Zeb’s wrist. His wide eyes confirmed what Kallus had already suspected.
Zeb had no pulse.
After all they had been though, this was how Zeb was going to leave him? After surviving the ice moon together, not getting eaten by the Bonzami, and somehow managing to live as an imperial spy under Thrawn’s nose, this was how their story was going to end?
He couldn’t let it end this way. He still owed Zeb so much. He owed him for not killing him that day on Bahryn. He owed him for challenging his beliefs in the broken imperial system. Zeb had shown him such kindness, and what had he really done in return? Lied to the man about the way he felt? And for no good reason, other than the fact that Alexsandr Kallus was a coward, especially when it came to feelings and relationships. He had thought there had been more time…
After a moment of staring in shock at his functionally dead friend in shock, Kallus heard Rex’s voice through the haze of panic. “Kallus, start CPR. I’ll call the medbay. Chopper, how long has he been down?”
I came to get you right away. It hasn’t been long.
Muttering something about hoping it hadn’t been too long, Rex retrieved his com. Kallus trained his attention on Zeb, positioning himself over the lasat’s chest. Taking another moment to admire Zeb’s unconscious face, he started compressions.
“What exactly happened, Chopper?” Rex asked steadily.
Kallus did his best to try to listen to the droid recount the story of wanting to play a harmless prank on Zeb, and giving him a small jolt of electricity in his leg. He hesitated before saying that Zeb’s reaction caused him to accidentally brush against a live wire, causing him to convulse before collapsing. The poor droid sounded traumatized. As much as he liked to act like he didn’t give a damn about what happened to the spectres, Kallus would now always know that he did care in his own way.
He put his entire weight into the first thrust, swallowing down the panic as he felt Zeb’s body give under his weight. It was strenuous enough doing chest compressions on a fellow human, nonetheless a lasat. Kallus tried not to worry about that though, as he continued. He looked down at Zeb’s face, blindly hoping that he would see some sort of change there. To his dismay, there was no movement besides the slight jostling motion caused by the chest compressions.
“Kallus, that’s not doing anything,” Rex said suddenly, breaking Kallus out of his thoughts. “You have to go harder. The compressions have to be deeper.”
Already sweaty from his effort, Kallus gave the man an exasperated look. “I cannot physically push any harder, Rex. It’s not as easy as doing CPR on a human,” he huffed in frustration and exhaustion in the heat and humidity of Yavin 4.
He tried again, this time with a different technique. It wasn’t what they had taught him at the academy, but he thought it might give him more leverage, and more weight behind the compressions. At the feeling of bones shifting under his hands, Kallus felt a mix of horror and relief. He may have just broken one of Zeb’s ribs, but at least the compressions were doing more now.
It felt like hours before the medical team got there. Kallus was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily when they arrived, being the only one around with enough muscle to do effective chest compressions on the lasat. Completely lost in his focus of trying to save Zeb’s life, he hardly even noticed them until he felt Rex’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.
Before he could even blink, the medics had him loaded onto a stretcher, and were rushing him to the medbay. He watched, heartbroken but too exhausted to move as they took him away. His legs wobbled and black spots swam through his field of vision, surely from the unexpected overexertion that was performing CPR on a lasat. Kallus sunk to his knees on the ground, feeling moisture drip down his face. He wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears, at this point.
Rex knelt next to him. There was a beat of silence before the clone spoke. “You doing alright?”
Kallus couldn’t hold back the small sob that escaped his mouth. No, he was not doing alright. He had never told Zeb how he felt. He had never been able to properly apologize for Lasan. There was so much more he needed to do to prove to himself and to Zeb that he could even be worthy of the attention he received from the man.
Moments played through his mind. All the times he had an opportunity to say something, but didn’t. There were almost too many to count. He should have said something. He should have told him.
Although he never responded with words, Rex understood quite clearly from the look on his face. “I get it. I’m sorry.” A solid hand landed on Kallus’ shoulder, gentle but firm. “I think he knew.”
This time, Kallus didn’t even try to stop the tears as they trailed down his face.