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The supply run had gone well, all things considered. There had been very little imperial interference, no bounty hunter distractions, or anything else that might have put a wrench in their plans. If he was being honest, it made Zeb a little uneasy. Things never went this well for them.
As Zeb was working with Ezra to secure the crates with Ezra and Kallus in the cargo bay, Hera, Kanan, Sabine, and Chopper were all preparing the Ghost for takeoff. With the large amount of crates to secure, Ezra had made his disdain for the task well known to all of them, complaining about the amount of work to do.
“But Zeb, there are at least a hundred crates down here. And Hera said we are leaving in like ten minutes! There’s no way we can get them all secured,” Ezra whined as he was left in the cargo bay with Zeb and Kallus.
“If we split up the work by row, it really isn’t that many crates. Zeb, you take the far row, I’ll take the next, and Ezra, you secure the crates closest to the door,” Kallus said coolly. He was clearly getting used to Ezra’s complaining. In Zeb’s opinion, he was handing it quite well so far. He was being a little soft on the kid, in Zeb’s opinion. But it seemed to work.
“Whatever. Just hurry up. I want to go get some rest.” Ezra started toward the crates piled near the door.
Kallus looked over to Zeb, shrugging as he began to walk toward his own crates to secure. “Teenagers,” he mumbled over his shoulder. Zeb grinned.
“I can hear you guys talking back there,” Ezra called to the two of them, now obstructed from their view by the cargo crates stacked by the door.
“Just talking about how annoying you are,” Zeb shouted back toward him before going to secure his own crates.
Kallus had been right. In the row at the very back of the cargo bay, there had only been around 30 crates. Zeb had easily been able to secure them all before Hera called for takeoff. He had even had time to help Kal finish his before Hera’s voice drifted through the overhead com.
“Alright kids, time to go. Is the cargo secure?”
Zeb finished tightening the strap on the final crate in Kallus’s row before looking over to Kallus. “I think we are all good here,” he said. “Hey Ezra, how is it coming?” he shouted over the crates.
“It’s fine. Just tell Hera we can leave,” the kid shouted back, clearly still in a bad mood. Kallus rolled his eyes, chucking a bit before pulling out his com.
“We are all good down here, Captain. You’re free to launch at will,” he said into the communicator. “We will meet you on the bridge shortly.” The cadence of his voice still reminded Zeb a little too much of his days chasing the Spectres in the ISB. But his tone had softened since then, becoming less rigid and more kind. It suited him, in Zeb’s opinion.
Kallus met Zeb’s gaze, sending him a slight smile. “Shall we head that direction?”
“Sure. Maybe we can get some rest, like the kid was bitchin’ about earlier,” Zeb said nonchalantly.
The sigh from Kallus was palpable. “I suppose there is nothing better to do, while in hyperspace.”
The pair made their way toward the front of the cargo bay to find Ezra seated on the ground by the door. He looked up at the pair, irritation clear on his face. “Can we go now?”
While looking down at the kid, Zeb felt the familiar feeling of the gravity shifting under his feet as the ghost took to the sky. “As long as the crates are secure, we should be good to go.” Ezra stood, promptly opening the cargo bay door and slipping outside. Kallus followed him, with Zeb close behind.
The ghost made a sharp acceleration, causing Zeb to lose his footing slightly. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the frame of the door. He thought briefly that there must be some sort of atmospheric disturbance on this planet, causing the Ghost to hit some turbulence. Once more, the Ghost lurched forward, pressing his weight harder against the doorframe. That’s when he heard something snap behind him.
Zeb made the mistake of turning around to investigate the sound. His eyes widened as he saw that one of the large cargo crates had snapped the ties holding it to the floor of the cargo bay. It was sliding very rapidly toward where he was leaning against the doorframe.
“Shit, Zeb watch out!” Kallus called from behind him.
He tried to make a dive for the door, but ultimately, it was too late. He roared in pain as the crate caught his leg, pinning it against the wall. Zeb fell forward, wincing in pain as his leg was twisted as he fell to the ground. Pain seared through the limb, alerting him to the injury. His vision went white for a moment, his brain threatening to pass out from the sudden pain. His ears were ringing, and it almost felt like he was going to pass out. He slammed his eyes closed against the onslaught of sensation.
“Karabast,” he groaned as he tried to right himself, feeling the strain on his hip as it threatened to pop out of the socket if he moved much more. His leg was turned at a very unnatural angle, with how he had landed from his jump. Looking down at it, it looked as though his knee was broken. More might have been crushed as well, but it was hard to tell. All Zeb knew was that it hurt badly.
Kallus was kneeling on the ground behind him. As the ringing in his ears became quieter, he could hear Kallus and Ezra’s conversation a little better.
“...could have secured the crates better!”
“I didn’t know there was going to be turbulence Kallus! How was I supposed to know that?”
“You have to secure them correctly every single time, Ezra.”
Zeb threw his head back as another wave of pain washed over him, this time shooting up into his abdomen. He needed to get his leg out from behind the crate. “Would you two stop bickering and help me?” he growled through his clenched teeth.
He watched as Kallus looked around the cargo bay. “That crate is too heavy for us to simply push away from the wall,” he said, his eyes dancing around the cargo bay. Zeb cringed again in pain. Kallus placed a hand on his shoulder as his eyes lit up. “Ezra, go grab that reinforcement bar from the wall.”
Zeb noticed the pale tint to the kid’s face as he did as Kallus asked without hesitation. He held the long piece of metal in two hands as he made his way back. “Here,” he said, handing the piece of scrap to Kallus.
The ex-ISB agent promptly wedged the piece of steel in between the wall and the crate, shifting the cargo, and sending another wave of agony up Zeb’s broken leg. Zeb bit back against the sound rising up in his throat. He knew screaming would not help him in this situation. Kallus clearly had a plan. All Zeb had to do was trust him, and think about all the ways he was going to get back at Ezra once he healed from this.
“Ezra, on my count of three, push the crate as hard as you can with the force. I’m going to try to move it with leverage.” Kallus looked down at Zeb once again, meeting his eyes. “Zeb, if the crate moves at all, pull yourself out. Understand?”
Zeb nodded, trying to find somewhere to put his hands where he would have enough leverage to slide out from behind the crate.
Kallus counted down. Zeb felt the familiar shutter in the air as Ezra redirected the energy in the room at the crate. He watched as Kallus simultaneously pulled as hard as he could on the reinforcement bar. The effect was immediate, as the crate shifted slightly. It was just enough movement to allow Zeb to force his leg out from behind the crate.
He continued to pull himself across the floor until he was out of the room before letting his torso fall to the ground, the door to the cargo bay sliding shut behind him. The second the adrenaline started to wear off, he noticed the pain was worse than before.
The blood had once again started to circulate through his crushed limb, causing an unpleasant burning sensation, on top of the already throbbing agony. He sat up slightly, looking down at his likely shattered ankle. It was already starting to swell quite significantly.
“Ezra, grab the medkit.” There was no room for negotiation in Kallus’s tone.
The kid nodded, still looking very pale and shell-shocked. “I’m so sorry Zeb…” he muttered as he slowly stepped backwards before breaking into a run to grab the medkit from the upper floors.
There was nothing but guilt written in the kid’s face. Zeb knew how to work with guilt. He knew that even after he healed, he wouldn’t be scrubbing the carbon scoring from the Ghost for cycles. With one final act of laziness, Ezra had just unknowingly taken on all of Zeb’s chores around the ghost for the foreseeable future. The thought made the pain slightly more bearable.
Zeb watched as Kallus knelt next to where Zeb was laying on the ground. The man glanced down at Zeb’s very obviously broken leg, before meeting his eyes and smiling. “We have to stop meeting like this, you know.”
A laugh bubbled out of Zeb’s chest. Kallus was joking? “You? Cracking jokes? I must have hit my head when I fell,” Zeb chuckled breathily, his muscles still tense with pain.
“I do have a sense of humor, Garazeb.”
Ezra returned promptly, likely faster than Zeb had ever seen him move in the past. His guilt was still palpable in the energy of the room. Kallus readied the medkit before looking at Zeb with determination and a reassuring smile. “You’ll likely need more than I can give you,” Kallus said, looking in the meager medkit for something, “but I will do what I can.”
Looking up at him, Zeb had all the faith in the world that this man was going to stop at nothing to make him comfortable and safe for the ride home.