Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a straightforward, palms up assignment, chasing rumors and leads in the Allurian System. But really, nothing in Agent Alexsandr Kallus' life had been straightforward since his stint on a frozen moon above Geonosis – or perhaps it was the first time anything in his life had been straightforward. It was difficult to say during these runs to create false leads for the Empire while still keeping on the lookout for useable intel as the latest Fulcrum agent.

This latest assignment shouldn't have been all that difficult, though – just a mission to scout out reports of rebel activity on Alluria. There wasn't supposed to be any activity. According to the former Imperial's sources, Alluria's rebel cell had long since abandoned their home base to join up with Dodonna's fleet. Unfortunately, the smoke rising in the distance from what looked to be a recent battle seemed to say that his sources might've been off on a few details. Growling under his breath in worry, Kallus gunned his speeder that much faster, urging it toward the rising smoke.

What he came upon was the burnt out husk of an outpost of some sort. Stormtroopers were swarming all over the site of the battle, tallying their own dead and the numbers of their victims. When he brought his speeder to a stop near their perimeter, he quickly leapt from the transport and sought out the highest-ranked trooper he could find.

"Captain, report!" he snapped as he approached the stormtrooper, trying to keep his focus on gathering information and not on these people he might have saved.

"Oh! Agent Kallus, Sir!" the trooper immediately snapped to attention upon catching sight of him. "We weren't expecting you for another two cycles."

"No matter. I am here now. What happened here? What do you have to report?" he repeated, pointedly looking at the featureless white faceplate and not at the ruin beyond it, smoldering orange and red in the waning light of day.

"An insurgents' enclave of some kind, Sir. We gave them a chance to surrender peacefully, but...they preferred to go down fighting. You know these rebel types."

"Indeed, I do," he said, keeping his expression carefully unreadable as he forced himself to look at what remained of the conflagration. He caught sight of an overturned fruit cart and a Phindian banner still burning as the tattered ribbons of fabric caught on the evening breeze, sending a new wave of embers whipping through the air. The sight wasn't anything he was unfamiliar with. He knew war. Of course he did – but then he caught sight of something that truly made his stomach turn.

A tiny plastile toy in the shape of a bantha, half-burned, but still recognizable.

What have they done? he asked in silence, feeling something in him grow cold as he watched the toy burn.

"Captain?" he began in a tone of barely-contained anger, feeling a fresh wave of guilt grip at his heart. "Am I to understand that you and your men attacked a settlement with families inside? Children?"

"Sir, I only-"

Whatever excuse the trooper was about to spout was suddenly interrupted by a hideous shriek. Kallus' gaze snapped back to the smoldering buildings to see a stormtrooper being ground underfoot – by none other than a wild-eyed Lasat warrior.

"Look out! We got a live one!"

"MURDERERS!" the incensed Lasat shrieked as it came at them. It didn't take long for the warrior to zero in on Kallus, seeing the bo-rifle slung across his back.

In a moment that seemed to the former security agent to last a small eternity, he watched the Lasat lunge toward him. Zeb would scold him for it if he ever found out, but Alex might really have let the alien take his head off in that moment without any kind of fight. It was only the split-second instinct of years and years of combat training that forced his hand, his body drawing the bo-rifle almost without his permission.

It was only when the Lasat's weapon came into contact with his that Kallus realized it wasn't a bo-rifle. Just a force pike. No less deadly in the right hands, of course, but maybe these were not the right hands. This Lasat was no warrior – only a desperate being.

"Please. Don't do this," Kallus ground out as they grappled. He made no move to attack, only to keep their weapons locked together in a stalemate. "I don't want to fight you!"

"'Don't want to fight!'" the Lasat snarled mockingly through their crossed weapons, "says the creature standing there like a coward with a stolen weapon!"

"It's not like that!" he tried to argue, putting all of his strength into a push to shove the Lasat back.

When his opponent stumbled, Kallus realized that the only reason he hadn't bowled him over completely was that his left foot was badly burned. He was a little too rattled to even pretend to face the Lasat as an enemy. He and Zeb would at least be able to put on a show for the expectant Imperial eyes, but this one...this Lasat had every intention of killing him.

And for the life of him, Kallus couldn't think of a reason to stop him from doing so.

"So what exactly is it like?" the Lasat demanded before spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Going about with innocent blood on your hands? Behaving as if you somehow had more of a right to live than the mothers and children you killed?! You Imperial dogs are filthy murderers! Every last one of you!" his opponent snarled in rage before coming at him.

Kallus didn't know what did it, but he suddenly found himself hearing the accusations in Zeb's voice. It was like hearing Garazeb Orrelios reminding him of all the horrific things he'd done in his life. Zeb...who'd spared him, shown him compassion, forgiven him, forgiven what could never be forgiven. Zeb...who was his ally, his friend...who was more to him than anyone else in his life ever had been. And he now stood to pass judgement on all of Kallus' sins for daring to ask for forgiveness.

You hurt my world. You hurt my people! You hurt me!

No! Zeb...I could never...I didn't...

But he had. It was already done and there was nothing he could do to change it. So as the avenging Lasat came at him, raising his force pike for one final strike, Alexsandr Kallus found he could do nothing but let his bo-rifle fall to the ground, leaving himself completely open to whatever attack came.

Only the attack never did come. The sound of blaster fire ripped through the agent's ears as it tore into his opponent's body. Kallus could do nothing but look on in shock as the light left the Lasat's eyes. He was dead before he'd even hit the ground.

Kallus, meanwhile, couldn't stop himself from falling to his knees, though he still fought to keep himself from hyperventilating. The entire incident had been a little too close to what he imagined it would be like to watch Zeb be shot and killed. That...he couldn't take that. And he had to pull himself together right this kriffing second...or they would see...they would see...

"Are you all right, Sir?" one of the troopers demanded as the squad ran up to him. Kallus struggled to keep his gaze fixed on the dead Lasat, hoping his expression might pass for anger instead of the horror it really was.

"Fine," he whispered as he slowly reached for his bo-rifle. "Not a scratch."

"Sir, we should probably get you back to HQ. That was-"

"I'm fine!" he snapped as he re-situated the weapon at his back. Then he got to his feet. "Tell me...were there any other Lasat in this encampment?"

"I really don't think this is the best time to-"

"I asked you a simple question, trooper," he growled low in his throat, every moment he maintained his composure a victory for him. "Were there. Any more Lasat. In this encampment?" he repeated slowly, glaring at the man.

"Just a few," the trooper finally answered, pointing back at the half-collapsed building the first Lasat had emerged from. "But we thought we'd killed them."

"And of course we all saw how well that turned out, didn't we," he said, pointedly not looking at any of them as he moved in the direction indicated.

"Sir, why waste your time? That building could go at any minute," the squad leader protested.

"Clearly, Captain, you do not know much about fighting the Lasat. I do, I'm afraid. If I need backup, I will call for it," he said as he descended into the dwelling. He had to know for certain. He had to.

The first thing he took note of upon entering the main living area were the two Lasat males sprawled painfully upon the floor, unmistakably dead. Shaking his head in aching pity and apology, he turned from the sight, meaning to leave. No doubt he didn't need to see any more...

...except that was the moment his ears picked out a pitiful, keening mewl from among the crackling of the dying flames.

No. It couldn't be.

Could it?

Following the sound, Kallus continued on for two more rooms, until he came to what looked to be some sort of storeroom, and the sight he beheld inside was arguably much more horrific than the dead Lasat from the front room.

A Lasat female was pinned beneath a fallen durasteel beam, a pool of her own blood quickly spreading around her. She struggled to try and move from beneath the beam, but there was clearly no saving her. Despite her impending death, she was reaching with all of her might toward a small basket that was just a few feet out of her grasp.

The basket was the source of the mewling sound.

Oh, no...

Kallus approached slowly so as not to frighten the dying Lasat, but she still snarled upon catching sight of him, snapping and baring her teeth, swiping her one free hand in his direction to warn him away.

"Stay back...Imperial dog," she growled as best she could, her long purple hair matted with blood. "I may be dying...but my death will be my own. Stay away!"

"No," he started gently as he moved to his knees, inching toward her across the soot-covered floor. "I swear I'm not going to hurt you."

The Lasat gave a bitter, broken sound at this, a sound that under normal circumstances might have been a laugh. Banging her head against the crude floor, she reached out her hand once more, fingers curling around empty air. "I am, I think, far past even your ability to hurt me, dog," she coughed out, clearly in pain.

"It's all right," he said when he finally reached her, presenting her with the bo-rifle and showing her what he hadn't had the chance to show her companion – a small symbol carved into the barrel of the weapon. It was something Zeb had done for him to prevent further negative reactions to it. The sigil signified that, by right of Boosahn Keeraw, he carried the bo-rifle honorably. He had every right to bear it. "I'm not one of them."

Something in the young mother's expression shifted at this. At first, she didn't say anything more, just continued to stretch her hand out toward the basket.

"Human...please...my child...my child..." she begged him, at which point he moved to retrieve the basket.

Shifting aside a protective nest of blankets, Kallus beheld a tiny Lasat kit, eyes barely open as it mewled and cried pitifully for its mother. Not completely certain what to do, he awkwardly lifted the baby Lasat into his arms and carried it back to its mother, allowing her to reach out and stroke the little one's furry head.

"Shh, shh," she soothed, tears flowing from her own eyes as she stroked behind the baby's ear and under its chin. "It's all right. I'm here. I'm here. Don't cry, ni kyra."

Gradually, her murmured soothings shifted into the gentle hum of a lullaby. With each note, the infant calmed a little more, until the tiny thing finally fell asleep in Kallus' arms, mouth opening wide in a yawn as it curled up against his chest.

"You have a Lasat scent about you," the mother said with a distant smile. "It's faint, but it's there."

Despite the seriousness of their situation, the comment made the agent blush mildly. The young mother easily took the meaning of his expression, her own eyes growing more distant as she continued to stroke her child's fur. The distance quickly shifted to pain, though, when the beam trapping her crushed something more inside of her. Groaning in pain, she choked out, "Remember...when nothing else works...this will calm her. She's a good kit. If there's- anything you can do...please...take her somewhere safe...my daughter..."

"I will," he promised without thought. "I will do whatever I have to. I swear it," he said, burning gaze shifting from the mother down to her daughter. This poor, dying Lasat didn't know who he was, couldn't know what he'd done. He couldn't change what had happened, could never truly atone for it. He couldn't bring the dead back to life, but if he could save even one Lasat, just one small life...maybe that would be enough.

"Ashla bless you, kind sir. I do not- know why you wear their clothing, but...you are a good man," she wheezed, reaching out first to lay her hand on top of his, then moving it to rest on her daughter's head one last time. "Protect her...keep- keep my child safe...my treasure..."

"I will," he promised over and over again, not knowing what more he could do to comfort her in her final moments. "I will protect her."

"My treasure...my dearest treasure," she whispered as the life faded from her eyes. "My- Ar..."

The Lasat tried to draw breath to speak the rest of the name, but she couldn't manage it. She exhaled one last breath and her chest remained still.

Kallus couldn't say how long he knelt there in the crumbling silence of the burnt out home, with one Lasat dead beside him and another living, clutched against his chest and sleeping peacefully, little knowing that her life had changed forever. By the time he managed to make himself look down at the child in his arms, the light from outside had dimmed considerably.

This was too big. It was much too big. The sensible part of his brain knew that. Even his Fulcrum training dictated that this one life paled in comparison to the cause they were fighting for. But the less than sensible part of his brain – the part that had caused him to defect, to fight for something he believed in, the part that loved a crazy, noble, angry, beautiful Lasat warrior – that part knew he had no hope of turning away from this little girl.

If she were human, there might be a chance the Empire would spare her life, make her a ward of the state and allow her a chance to live. But he also knew from experience that that kind of life was almost not worth living. Besides, this child was not human. More than that, she was Lasat. The Lasat had been cleansed. Lasan had been punished. Lasan had burned. And if the Empire had its way, this helpless kit would burn, too. He had to help her. He had to keep her safe, no matter what it took. And when the baby girl shifted in his arms, cuddling even closer against his chest and reaching out a single purple paw to wrap around the torn hem of his uniform jacket, he knew he was already willing to die for her.

You can die later, he could almost hear Zeb's voice at his ear. First you've gotta get the little spriggit past the imps.

Right. He could deal with the logistics of this situation later. The first step was to get the little Lasat past the stormtroopers.

The basket was a little too obvious, so he searched the room for something that hadn't been destroyed by fire, finally coming up with a krayt skin knapsack. Lifting one of the blankets from the basket, he gently laid the kit down on it, making sure she wasn't going to wake and start screaming before he went about his work. Moving quickly and efficiently, he removed the other blankets from the basket and used them to line the knapsack, making a comfortable nest for the tiny baby. Once he was satisfied with his work, he settled her inside the knapsack, being careful not to close the thing all the way.

Before making his way up out of the dwelling, Kallus glanced briefly back at the kit's mother, feeling guilty that he couldn't do more for her, that he hadn't been in time to save her, guilty that he'd had a hand in making her a refugee in the first place. By this point, he knew enough about Lasat funerary rites to know what she likely would have wanted done, but for that he lacked time and material. That and others might be suspicious if he marked her death in any way. All he'd been able to do for her was close her eyes and offer up a prayer to the Ashla in broken Lasana.

It would have to be enough that her child was going to live. He would make certain of it. Being careful of the knapsack clutched in his hand, he steeled himself and headed out among the stormtroopers, just as he'd always done – only now there was everything to lose.

At first, no one paid him any mind. He was about halfway back to his speeder, thinking he just might get through this without incident, when a voice called out to him.

"Agent Kallus!" the trooper captain called as he jogged over to him. "Sir, you were down there awhile. What happened?"

"Thankfully for you, Captain, some of us actually do pay attention," he growled without breaking his stride, forcing the trooper to move with him.

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"You missed one. I found- another of those filthy animals down there," he said, feeling something inside of him twist in pain and grief as he forced the words out. "That wouldn't have looked at all good in your report, would it. A successful raid, only to lose half your men at the last moment to an insurgent you failed to account for."

"Apologies, Sir. Suppose that's what we have men like you for."

"Of course. Men...like me," he mumbled distantly, focusing on getting to his speeder instead of the sudden chill surging down his spine. They were so close now.

"What's with the sack, Sir?" the trooper suddenly pressed. "Something to do with the rebels?"

"Unrelated. ISB business," he stated firmly as he mounted his speeder.

"Sir...you do know I need to report everything related to this incident," the trooper reminded him hesitantly, reaching out as if to flip back the top of the sack.

"Not this you don't!" the agent snapped a bit more harshly than he needed to, pulling the knapsack out of the trooper's reach. "If it warrants inclusion in your report, I shall inform you afterward."

"But we've already been remiss more than once today," the man started to protest, still trying to reach for the knapsack. "I shouldn't-"

"Are you questioning me, trooper?" Kallus snarled, his desperation masked as anger as he pressed the knapsack tightly against his stomach. Though dispensing with the trooper's proper title did have the desired effect of cowing the man into silence. He simply shook his head and offered up a clumsy salute as apology. "Good," the agent continued in a calmer voice, though a note of fear was beginning to tremble beneath that composure because he could feel the kit starting to shift in her nest. She didn't like the sudden movements or the shouting. If he knew anything about infants, he knew he would have only seconds before this one made her displeasure known. "Speak no more of this and you just might not compromise my investigation. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lead to follow up on," he snapped before gunning the speeder away from the destroyed settlement.

And not a moment too soon, because the poor little kit burst into tears the moment they were in motion, her disconsolate wailing nearly carrying over the shriek of the speeder's engine. Kallus was able to ignore the distressed crying for a time, mostly because he was so relieved at having gotten her safe away, but he knew he couldn't ignore it forever. When he felt he'd gotten far enough out onto the windswept Allurian grasslands that her cries couldn't possibly be overheard, he finally brought the speeder to a stop.

Dismounting the speeder, he retrieved the little Lasat from her nest, attempting to cradle her against his chest as he began to pace circles around the small transport.

"Hush...shh...oh, please," he pleaded with her, awkwardly patting her back while still keeping an eye on the surrounding landscape. It would be dark soon. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry your mother's dead and I'm sorry it's me you're stuck with...the man who destroyed your people," he confessed, actually feeling tears burn behind his own eyes as he struggled and failed to comfort her. "What do you want? What do you need? I'll do whatever you want. Just tell me."

But she was telling him, wasn't she. It wasn't her fault he couldn't understand. None of this was her fault, but she was still the one who would suffer for it. What could he do? What could he really do...to help her?

Remember, her mother's voice sounded faintly in his mind as he began to unthinkingly stroke the fur behind her ear...when nothing else works...this will calm her.

There had been no words to the Lasat's lullaby, but he found he remembered most of the tune. Continuing to stroke her fur, he hummed for her. Objectively, he didn't imagine he sounded very soothing, nearly as panicked as she was, but she still seemed to take comfort from the gentle vibrations of his chest. After a time, she finally began to calm down, not falling asleep again, but shifting into a more tranquil state, purring softly while she burbled, her sound caught somewhere between feline and human.

When he'd managed to get the little kit calm, Kallus sat down in the grass near the speeder to try and think the situation through – and for several minutes, all he could come up with was that this was inarguably the most foolish thing he had ever done. He was a military man. He barely knew anything about human babies, much less Lasat kits. She would need to be fed, kept warm, changed. How old was she? What was it safe for her to eat? What was her name? He didn't even know that, though he was certain her mother had been trying to say it at the end. Was he going to have to name her, too? He couldn't just keep calling her kit. Had he made his vow to her mother only to have to watch the little thing die just a few hours later because his stupid arse didn't know a kriffing thing about childcare?

"Calm down," he scolded himself after a time. Panicking was going to help nothing and well he knew it. This was a challenge like any other he'd faced. He just needed to figure out a new kind of solution. He couldn't return to the city. Not until he'd figured something out, at least. So if they were going to be spending the night out in the open like this, his first step would have to be to set up camp.

The work was difficult to do single-handed with a kit in the other arm, but Kallus had every intention of keeping her in his sight, and he did somehow manage. As he moved through the familiar, methodical motions of setting up camp, a plan slowly began to take shape in his mind.

Zeb. The other rebels. The Ghost crew. They would know what to do. They would know of someplace safe to take her. If nothing else, he could at least get some kit care tips from the Lasat. Enough, at least, that he might be able to care for her until they found a suitable home.

"I hope you all are in the mood for another one of your completely insane plans," he mumbled to himself as he sent out the call on his civilian comm.

XxX

Zeb groaned in annoyance as he banged his head against the door to his and Ezra's bunk. Ashla preserve him from mis-wired murder droids and Jedi bratlings.

"C'mon, Zeb," Ezra's needling voice followed after him. "It's not like Chopper knew the catch was rigged."

"Oh, he knew. He knew and you told him to rig it," he snarled over his shoulder as he banged the door open – as much as one could bang a sliding door, leastwise. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you two grublits were trying to get me killed."

Chopper gave several trills and whirs at this, finishing the statement with a pronounced clang of one of his manipulator arms.

Zeb shrugged and rolled his eyes, giving a pained laugh as he headed into the bunk. "You know what? That's fair. So long as we're all on the same page."

"Somebody's gotta remind you to keep on your toes," Ezra pointed out.

"Oh, I'll keep on my toes all right. You just better watch yours or you'll wind up with them sliced off," he threatened jokingly, throwing a fond smirk over his shoulder at the young Jedi before shutting the door behind him. While it could sometimes be annoying to have to watch for death traps aboard his own home turf, he would admit it was nice to see Ezra amused about something. The kid had precious little to grin over these days. If that meant a few lost hairs and a year or two shaved off his life in the process, well...that was a sacrifice he was perfectly happy to make.

Zeb was ready to kick back in his bunk and take a much needed nap after their escapades on Geonosis, but just as he was getting settled in, he noticed his datapad was flashing with an incoming transmission. Somebody was trying to get in touch.

Slipping the pad free of its nook, he tapped into the device to check the frequency. It was an incoming holotransmission.

DNF-121.XX(A)

Kal!

Kal didn't often get a chance to contact him outside of Fulcrum transmissions, but they'd been able to set up an emergency channel just in case it was needed. They talked often enough over pirated frequencies, text and the occasional voice conversation, but for Kal to send him a holotransmission...something must really be wrong.

"Kal!" he half-shouted as he activated the transmission, afraid of what he might see. "What's wrong? Are you all right? You'd better be all right."

He wasn't really sure what he'd expected to see, but the flickering holo image that appeared before him definitely wasn't it. Alexsandr Kallus sat, captured within the blue glare of the holo with a helpless expression on his face. With the grainy quality of the image, Zeb couldn't say if he was actually seeing it or not, but those looked like tear tracks on the former Imperial's cheeks.

"Zeb," he began in a strangled voice. "I'm sorry, I...I didn't know who else to go to."

"Alex," Zeb continued in a hesitant, fearful voice, reaching out a hand to the flickering image. "What happened? What did they do to you?" he pressed, almost certain that the other man had been found out somehow. If the Empire had hurt him, Zeb didn't care what he might be compromising...what he might be throwing away. If Kal had been hurt, he was going to tear every last stinking imp in the galaxy to ribbons.

"No, it's not- not me," the Fulcrum agent rushed to reassure him. "I...here."

With that, the image widened and Zeb could see that Kallus was holding something in his arms, and as the Lasat inspected the image, he gradually began to realize that it was a baby – a Lasat kit.

"Zeb...help me."

"Oh, karabast."

XxX

"Kallus, you need to calm down," Hera said firmly as the Ghost crew gathered in the cockpit to hear the transmission. "It's not going to help her to see you lose control."

"Right, of course. Sorry," the former ISB agent acknowledged with a curt nod.

"I might also point out that you're holding her all wrong."

"Sorry?" Kallus asked, looking to the Ghost captain for an explanation.

"There's no way she's comfortable just dangling there with your hands under her arms like that," Hera deadpanned. "If you want to know why she's fussy, that's a good place to start."

"Then what do I do?" Kallus pressed in desperation.

"Not freak out, for a start," Hera reminded him. "We're going to help you get through this, but you need to go about it calmly."

Kanan couldn't seem to help snickering at the former Imperial's distress. "Oh, stars, I wish I could see this."

"I don't see you offering up any ideas, Jarrus," Kallus snapped out indignantly.

"Oh, I imagine our Jedi knight's got plenty of tips to offer up. Used to have a whole temple-full of little ankle-biters, didn't you," Rex couldn't seem to help ribbing.

Something in the knight's frame bristled at this as he slowly turned his head in the clone's direction. "Yes. Yes, we did. A temple-full of children that the Empire murdered!" he snarled.

"Hey! Shut it!" Zeb growled at the combatants, seeing what no one else in the cockpit had – the way Kal's eyes had widened at the mention of the massacre...how his shoulders had stiffened and his breathing had grown ragged. "Kallus has had a rough day. He doesn't need this right now. He needs our help."

"Right," Rex conceded awkwardly.

"Sorry," Kanan finished.

All of the racket had started the little one whimpering, leaving Kallus looking on the verge of panicking all over again. Hera pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Okay, first lesson. Can you see what I'm doing with my arms," the Twi'lek instructed as she formed them into a cradle.

"Yes."

"Her head goes up here, in the crook of your elbow," she explained, lifting her own elbow to show what he should be doing. "And your other hand supports her bottom, like this. Once you're holding her securely, she won't have to be afraid she's going to fall and she'll be much less fussy."

It took Kallus a few moments to get them both situated, but once he was holding her properly, they both visibly began to calm down.

"There. Much better," Hera said with a pleased nod.

Chopper gave several low whines, spinning in a circle on his treads before raising his antenna straight up from his dome. Kallus' head snapped up at the comment, his cheeks coloring visibly, even in the blue holo image.

"What did the droid say?" he demanded in a scandalized voice.

Zeb growled as he gave the little droid a kick. "Watch your mouth, trash compactor. There are young ears present."

Chopper's next round of whistles quickly drew the ire of their resident Jedi padawan.

"Hey! I'm not that young."

At this, Chopper's dome spun several times and he rolled back over to Zeb to give him a few shoves. Then he gave a series of high-pitched trills, actually shifting back and forth between his treads before spinning in another circle, ending the pantomime with a knowing tap to Zeb's leg with a manipulator arm.

Zeb groaned as he buried his face in his hand. "Okay, that was a kriff-ton more than I ever wanted the crew to know about my sleep-talking habits."

"What was that you said about watching your mouth, Zeb?" Kanan jibed. The comment was quickly followed by an uncomfortably low whir from Chopper.

"No, it was not interesting, scrap yard. Would you give it a rest? I'm not sure that's even physically possible."

That roused a vicious round of pokes from the cantankerous astromech.

"Chopper," the Lasat growled warningly. "I'm about an inch from spacing you and I don't care who knows it."

"So, I've got an idea," Sabine interrupted mildly. "How about we all turn our attention back to the issue at hand," she suggested, gesturing toward a bemused-looking former ISB agent. Kallus just shook his head.

"Honestly, how you all eluded capture for so long is a mystery I will never be able to fathom."

"So...what happened?" Ezra was the one to finally ask, and the discussion coming back full circle caused the Fulcrum agent to sigh dejectedly.

"It was already over by the time I arrived," he began to recount, absently stroking the fur behind the kit's ear. "I was supposed to be scouting for rebels that shouldn't have been there, but...the local garrison discovered a pocket of resistance. The fighting was done with when I pulled up, but then we were attacked...by a Lasat," he said, eyes finding Zeb's with a deep well of apology in them. Zeb didn't bother to ask if there were any more Lasat from the settlement. He understood what Kallus' role as Fulcrum entailed...and he understood what it must have cost Alex to fight this battle.

"I did my best," Kallus said softly, eyes briefly squeezing shut as he turned away from the comfort Zeb tried to offer with his gaze. "I didn't want to fight him."

"It's all right, Kallus," Hera soothed him. "You did what you had to. No one understands that more than us." And for just a moment, they all considered how shocked they would've been just a few short months ago to hear Hera offer such comfort to a man who had once been their enemy.

"I didn't- actually kill him. I don't think I could have...if it had come down to it. He was gunned down by the other troopers. I went to investigate the dwelling he'd emerged from...and I found two other dead Lasat inside...and a young mother...crushed by a beam. I had only time to promise her- that I would keep her child safe...before she died," he finished, not really looking at any of them, just looking off into the distance at something they couldn't see.

"All right. First things first. Where are you now?" Hera pressed him.

"Out- out on the grasslands. I had to get her away. I didn't- really think at all. I just ran."

"That's fine. So long as you're both safe, we can work with this. Did her mother tell you her name?"

"Not- exactly. I believe she was trying to...near the end. I heard the letters A and R, and she kept talking about her treasure. It may have been a simple endearment, but-"

"It's not," Zeb interrupted as he surveyed the child in Kal's arms. It had been such a long time since he'd seen a Lasat kit. Lira San was safe, of course, but he'd sometimes wondered if he ever would again. "In Lasana...there's a name that means 'Sacred Treasure'. If that's what she was trying to tell you, then this kit's name is Arkalia."

"Arkalia," Kallus tried the name out as he looked down at the kit, who offered up a yawn and a purr before settling a little further into his arms. None of them failed to notice Ezra's tiny 'aww' at the painfully adorable sight. "I like it," he said, offering the baby girl a small smile.

"All right, that's settled. Next we've got age. Any insights for that one, Zeb?" Hera asked.

"That one's a bit harder. I wasn't exactly a creche maid back on Lasan," the former guardsman pointed out, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"Every little bit helps. The information's not exactly going to be widely available on the holonet," Hera reminded him.

"Okay, well...I can't- quite tell from here. Are her eyes open yet?" he asked, moving a little closer to the image of Kallus.

"Only just, I think," Kallus reported.

"What about teeth? Those come in yet?"

"Yes. Not much more than stubs, though."

"Milk teeth, then. So...not any younger than three months with the eyes, and I don't think she could be any older than ten months with the teeth. That's about when the adult ones start comin' in. And those are Lasan months, mind. I've never really had to think about the conversion for standard, but I- I think it's close enough," he muttered, giving the occasionally flickering pair in the hologram a small half-smile.

"So what does she need? To eat, I mean. What is it safe for her to have?"

"Should be milk until the adult teeth come in. I'm not- really sure what a suitable substitute for Lasat milk would be," Zeb said, feeling guilty as he watched Kal rock the little kit. Here he'd reached out to him for help and he barely knew anything about kits. What could he do?

"Wookiee would probably be best," Hera mused. "Doubt you'd be able to get ahold of it, though. Nerf works in most cases. Would you be able to get it from where you are?"

"I...think so," Kallus said after thinking on it for a moment. "Though it might be best to return to the city out of uniform, get what I need from the market unobserved."

"Would they be expecting you back anytime soon?" Zeb asked him.

"Well, at the moment, I'm supposedly chasing a lead I discovered in the destroyed enclave. I have leave to pursue my own investigations, so I don't imagine they would be surprised not to hear from me for another three days or so. There's time to- figure things out," he said with a nod.

"What were you thinking for the long term?" Hera asked, crossing her arms over her chest as Kanan moved up to stand beside her.

"I have to get her somewhere safe," he said, looking up at all of them with a painfully ernest expression on his face. "I swore. I made a promise to her mother. I have to make sure she lives."

"Safe from the Empire?" Kanan pointed out with a pained shrug. "That's already a pretty tall order of itself, but a Lasat kit?"

"The first bucket head with delusions of grandeur'd be gunnin' for her inside of a Nar Shaddaa minute," Rex pointed out when Kanan didn't finish. "Who wouldn't want to be the one to bring the last of the Lasat to the Emperor."

"But you can do it...can't you?" Kallus pressed, a note of worry sounding in his voice. "I thought you spectres could do anything."

"We're not miracle workers, Kallus," Sabine pointed out. "We're barely safe from the Empire. This is going to take some work."

"There might be a place we can take her," Zeb interrupted before the others could continue to let Kal twist. "It's just...it's a little bit difficult to get there. It's like Sabine said. It's gonna take some work."

Kallus gave a loud sigh of relief at this. "Thank you. All of you. What is the best way for you to- to collect her?"

Hera gave a sigh of her own in response, but then she squared her shoulders and looked the former Imperial agent dead in the face. "I know this is irregular and I know we don't usually do things this way, but if Zeb trusts you then so do I. I need you to tell us where you are. What system?"

Kallus regarded Hera with slightly widened eyes for a long moment before answering. "The Allurian System. We're on Alluria."

"All right. That's workable. Imperial presence in that system's pretty minimal," Hera said as she took a seat in the pilot's chair, beginning to plot their course.

"Only because of its lack of plunderable resources," Sabine muttered.

"Doesn't matter why. What matters is we can make this work. It's still too risky for the Ghost to just waltz up to Alluria right after an Imperial raid. Kallus, would you be able to get our package to Alluvium?"

"The sister planet? It would not- be easy...but I believe I can manage."

"Good. It'll be about two cycles before we can get there. We need to do some scrambling and grab some supplies. We'll use the Phantom to leave a false lead for you. Zeb'll get you more information as we get closer."

"I'll be seeing you soon, Kal," Zeb said with a reassuring grin. Kallus returned the look with a small smile of his own.

"Perhaps the climate will be a bit more agreeable this time," he said just before Arkalia began to fuss again. "Oh, what's the matter this time?"

Hera's grin could only have been described as demonic as she looked at the unsuspecting agent.

"Second lesson of the day, Fulcrum. Diaper changing."

Stars, but it was so hard not to laugh at the way the color drained from the poor man's face.

Chapter Text

It was strange, but Kallus would have to say the next morning that he'd slept much better that night out in the open than he had for months. Once Hera had walked him through the harrowing process of improvising a diaper from one of Arkalia's blankets, everyone had been able to calm down considerably. Zeb and the Ghost crew had signed off in order to take care of the errands they needed to run, leaving Kallus alone with a kit who was finally winding down properly.

He knew it wouldn't do him any good to keep watch all night. He needed sleep after that crazy day. Besides, he was trained to wake at the slightest noise, so he wasn't truly concerned about being caught unaware. So, with Arkalia bundled securely in her blankets and settled safely in his lap, he leaned against his speeder to catch a light sleep, the little kit deep asleep in her nest.

Truthfully, by the scientific standards of what was considered proper sleep among sentient beings, it hadn't been that deep a sleep. It could hardly be considered a nap, more like a few hours of dozing or meditation. But when he shook himself up from it come morning, he found himself much more refreshed than after a full night's sleep aboard the Lawbringer.

He couldn't account for it. By rights, he should have been stressed out beyond all reason, but he felt strangely at peace. Whether that was because he was going to be seeing Garazeb Orrelios again sooner than he'd hoped or because he was coming to terms with this admittedly strange form of penance for his actions on Lasan, who could say? For now, though, he would have to make sure his new charge was well looked after, and that meant getting her fed.

He had a set of civilian clothing stashed aboard his speeder. It had been more common practice in his junior officer days, but he'd let it slide in recent years, not feeling like there would be a need for him to pass unseen at any point. He'd taken up the habit again upon becoming Fulcrum – a set of plain clothes and a simple cowl to help conceal his features.

It was...strange to be out of uniform, in that he felt exposed without his armor, but also liberated in not having to wear the trappings of an ideology he no longer believed in. He could just be any regular man on his way to the market. Although it wasn't likely he would meet with the Imperial presence on Alluria, he could take no chances in this case – not where a child's life was concerned.

Once he'd gotten himself prepared for the journey, he got Arkalia secured back in her little knapsack nest. She wasn't pleased by the notion of riding in the sack again, as she was already starting to whimper and mewl even before he'd mounted his speeder. Already uncomfortable, he didn't doubt she was beginning to get hungry, as well. It wouldn't take much to set the little kit off.

"I know. I know," he soothed her as he situated the knapsack against his stomach, trying to make her as safe and comfortable as possible. "I promise I'll get you something to eat soon. Just a little bit longer."

Before starting off, he took a moment to slip his hand inside the knapsack, letting her grip his fingers with her tiny paws. For a moment, he just sat like that, letting her squeeze his fingers and coo insistently. But all too soon, he had to take his hand back, needing it to pilot the speeder.

It wasn't far into the trip that the little kit began to cry again. Though he could hear the sounds of her distress, he knew there was nothing he could do about it, so he let it be, spurring his speeder that much faster across the grasslands.

The sun hadn't risen very high in the sky by the time he arrived at Trion City. A smaller port on the sparsely populated Alluria, it was his best shot at avoiding Imperial notice. Arkalia had just about cried herself into exhaustion when they entered the city, a few faint sniffles echoing from the knapsack. Kallus took a moment to make sure she was calm before settling the strap of the sack awkwardly on his shoulder so that she'd be in a mostly comfortable position under his arm. So, with a grumpy, tuckered-out kit secretly in tow, the double agent made his way out into the market crowd.

Although, he found himself thinking as he moved, perhaps it would have been better not to be so punctual.

This early in the morning, the streets were far from crowded. It would probably have been better to have waited for an opportunity to move unseen within a crowd of other beings, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn't have waited much longer. He had no idea how long it had been since Arkalia's last meal. She needed to eat. This had to be done. So, pulling the cowl a little more securely around his face, he approached one of the vendors selling beverages.

"What do you need, Sir?" the Svivreni merchant asked him, her long ears pricking up in eagerness when she noticed him. "A cool drink for a hot day? Miru juice? Iced caf?"

"No. Something warm, I think," he began stiffly. "Have you got milk?"

The equinoid raised a thick eyebrow at this, but continued to smile. "Three kinds today. I have bordok, nerf, and bantha."

He wasn't familiar with bordok, and though he briefly found himself wondering if bantha wouldn't serve his purpose better, he ultimately decided not to go against Hera's advice.

"Nerf will do. Two thermals please."

The merchant nodded, moving to fill two of the temperature-controlled vessels while Kallus pulled a small wallet from his pocket. But while he was pulling the necessary credits out, a very loud, very grumpy trill sounded from his knapsack. The vendor's head snapped up at the sound, ears pricking forward as her eyes locked onto his.

"What was that?"

"I- nothing...I don't know," the former Imperial said, caught somewhere between insistent and feigning ignorance. He understood how to behave under military pressure, but this was a slightly different situation. He had no idea if he should snap at the Svivreni to mind her own business or act like a complete idiot who didn't know what the loud sound that had just come from his bag was. But while he was tearing between the two, the woman's eyes went wide in surprise. When Kallus looked down at the knapsack, it was with the horrified realization that there was a very distinct purple-striped paw reaching out of it. He was a little too horrorstruck to prevent the Svivreni from reaching forward to flip back the top of the sack.

The vendor gave a quiet gasp at the sight of the tiny kit. For a moment, her eyes just darted between him and Arkalia, not seeming certain of where to fix themselves. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, all he could manage was a small, strangled, "Please."

The Svivreni closed her mouth again, surveying him intently for several moments. Then she shook her head, offering him a gentle smile, much softer than her 'customer service' look.

"You know...the little one won't be able to drink from a thermal."

"I know," he returned quietly. Hera had explained to him how he'd be able to feed her without a bottle of any kind. Should his transactions ever be traced, it wouldn't be suspicious for him to be found purchasing milk. But both milk and a bottle? That would be just a little too telling.

The vendor remained silent another few minutes, giving him a look of respect and...gratitude? She didn't know the particulars of their situation, but she still somehow seemed to understand. Without a word, she filled another thermal with milk and presented the three containers to him in a small bag, along with a small ration packet.

"But that's-" he started to protest.

"You need them," she said firmly, laying a hand over his when he attempted to pull the wallet back out. "Knowing even one more light has not been snuffed out...that is payment enough. You've done a good thing."

He truly didn't know what to say to that. This woman hardly looked like she could afford to be giving away her merchandise. She had little to spare, yet she was giving that little to him? What would she say if she knew who he was? What he was atoning for? Would it matter?

"Thank-"

"What is that?" a sharp male voice suddenly demanded, causing Kallus to snap the knapsack closed in a hurry before drawing his cowl a little more tightly around his face. He glanced off to his right to see a human male eyeing him suspiciously. Openly armed with several blasters and a ring of detonators around his chest, the man definitely looked to be spoiling for a fight when he began to stalk toward them, and the vest he was wearing looked suspiciously like a Wookiee's pelt. "You! What was that?"

"What was what?" he asked quietly, though he kept his voice firm. Conflict. This was something he understood, something he could deal with.

"That thing in your bag. I could'a sworn I saw Lasat fur just now."

"You're mistaken," Kallus said calmly as he turned to face the man. "There are no more Lasat."

"Oh, I dunno about that. They've been sayin' the Empire routed out a couple of the animals in their last raid. Could be one or two got away from the fighting...or were rescued from it," he said casually, sneering as he slowly moved closer.

"Ridiculous," Kallus snapped, turning to walk away.

"Hey!" the man snarled as he reached the agent, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around. "Don't you walk away from me, stranger!"

"Can you think of a terribly compelling reason for me not to?" he asked in his same controlled command tone, straightening his shoulders as if he really were in uniform. If he had been, this whole situation would have been much easier to disengage from, but he really just couldn't afford that type of attention right now. Not that he could afford this type of attention either, but there were only so many problems he could be expected to foresee.

"It's an easy enough trouble to clear up if I'm wrong. Just show me what ya got in your sack there."

"And why would I do that?" Kallus asked, glaring down his nose at the man, for all the good his mostly concealed expression would do him.

"Wouldn't want me to go reportin' ya to the authorities over a mistake, would ya? If I'm the ridiculous one here, prove it."

Stars, where were 'concerned citizens' like this one when he was hunting rebels?

"Here's my proof," he started as he went for the small pistol at his hip, but before he could draw it, the Svivreni had somehow worked herself in between them, despite the fact she was no more than three feet tall.

"Giren, I really don't need you causing trouble with my customers. I do precious little business as it is with you scaring all the legitimate folk away."

"I don't want any trouble neither, Markuri. I just wanna make sure our friend ain't walkin' around with a decent bounty in his bag."

Kallus didn't want to leave the diminutive vendor to fight his battle for him. He wanted to step back in and teach this obvious piece of filth a lesson. But it was difficult to argue with the squirming sack he still had tucked under his arm. Arkalia was really starting to get fussy now. He had what he needed. He should get her back to safety.

Only...

"Just because the Empire robbed you of your ability to skin Lasat doesn't mean you need to take it out on the first sentient with a purple stuffed toy in his sack," the merchant, Markuri, said with an angry snort and a loud stamp of her hoof. But while she postured for their adversary, she surreptitiously slid a hand behind her back and waved Kallus off. So, biting down on his horror at her revelation of just what sort of hobbies this man engaged in, he slipped away, disappearing down a nearby alley and starting on a different route back to his speeder.

Once he was out of earshot of the growing dispute and out of sight of any of the other citizens, he took a moment to shift Arkalia's knapsack in his arms. With her small head poking up out of the top of the sack, he held her tightly against his chest, patting her back and soothing her as best he could.

"Shh, shh," he whispered gently to her, stroking the fur behind her ears. "I need you to bear with me just a little bit longer. Please, dear heart," he begged her, dropping a tiny kiss on the top of her head without thought.

Whatever it was that finally mollified the little kit, she settled against his chest, sniffling plaintively. She clearly wasn't happy about not being able to pitch a fit, but she just might give him the time he needed to get her safely out of the city. So, dropping one last kiss to the tuft of purple hair upon her head, he re-situated her in the knapsack and took off for the speeder.

Given his issues this morning alone, he half-considered it some sort of miracle when he managed to reach the speeder without incident, then fully so when he was actually able to leave the city, heading off in a completely different direction from the one he'd taken on approach.

Once again, he pushed the speeder until he could hear the sounds of Arkalia's wailing over the sound of the engines, pulling the transport to a stop on the outskirts of a small forest. Half-falling from the speeder in his haste, he was pulling Arkalia from her nest in almost the same motion as he was pulling one of the thermals from his shopping bag.

Checking the temperature gage on the container to make sure it wasn't too hot, he opened the thing up, dipping his first two fingers into the warm nerf milk inside. Swirling them through the thick substance to make certain they were thoroughly coated, he then brought his dripping fingers up to Arkalia's mouth.

At first, she was tentative, just sniffing at the digits dripping with milk, but then her tongue ventured out to catch a few of the drops. Cooing happily at the taste, she proceeded to lick his fingers clean. When he brought them back to her with more milk, she wasted no time in sucking on the offered fingers. Kallus repeated the action until he couldn't get her to take anymore. The thermal container was still about half full when he sealed it up.

Now what was it Hera had said he would have to do next? Burping? Definitely a good thing he had these civilian clothes then. He would never be able to explain a spit up stain on his uniform. Lifting the kit up, he rested her against his shoulder, gently patting her back.

Getting to his feet, he started to pace around their little makeshift campsite, humming faintly while he patted her, which she seemed to enjoy if the purring he felt against his chest was any indication. There was a time or two he thought he felt a gurgling in her tummy, but nothing ever seemed to come of it, so after fifteen or so minutes of the pacing and patting, he decided she probably wasn't going to spit up. Shifting her back to a proper two-arm hold, he was pleased to look down and see her smiling up at him.

"Well, at least you're easy enough to keep entertained," he said with a small smile of his own. Then, quite suddenly, a loud growl sounded from his own empty stomach. It wasn't until that moment it occurred to him that he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, when he'd arrived planetside.

Despite the unpleasantness of the sudden gnawing hunger pains, Arkalia was at least amused by the rumbling, because she gave a series of lovely trills that he could only describe as a laugh. Against his better judgement, Kallus felt his smile widening.

"Think that's funny, do you, little loth cat?" he teased her, twiddling his fingers along her ear as he moved back over to his speeder. This elicited a loud squeal of delight from the kit, who reached up a paw to grip clumsily at his fingers. "Bit ticklish are we?"

A little too soon, he had to pull his hand free in order to reach for one of the ration packets tucked into the speeder's compartments. Arkalia wasn't exactly happy about it, but she continued to smile up at him as he opened the packet single-handedly, voraciously devouring the essentially tasteless protein supplement. Once he'd finished the meager meal, he had every intention of stowing the wrappings for the return journey, but before he could, Arkalia had started to bat at them with both paws, eagerly reaching for the shiny material just above her head.

Kallus gave a small laugh as he watched her, quickly joining in on the new game by yanking the wrapping material out of her reach for a moment before teasing it just back within batting range. He kept this up until the tiny claws at the tips of her small fingers began to catch on the material, quickly shredding it.

Well, he'd have to find her something else to play with. He would need to keep her occupied somehow while he waited for more information from the Ghost crew. And as an idea for a toy began to take shape in his head, he found himself thinking he just might enjoy that wait. He would have to come up with some sort of story to report back with later, but he'd been getting rather good at that these last few months. In the meantime, he might just be able to pass a few hours in peace with a little girl who knew neither Rebellion nor Empire. She knew only the comfort of a full belly, the wonder of a new toy, and caring arms to hold her.

Were things ever really that simple? he found himself wondering as he laid Arkalia down on one of her blankets, beginning to gather up several strands of the long grass. He supposed it didn't matter if they had or had not been. What mattered was fighting for all children to have that simplicity. That was why he was here – why he'd done the things he'd done.

So, a little more at peace with himself and the galaxy at large, and with his materials gathered, Alexsandr Kallus sat down to do something he'd never thought he would do.

Make a toy for a child.

XxX

"Sabine! We are not getting finger paint!" Hera scolded the teenage Mandalorian.

"Come on, Hera," the artist pleaded in a much more wheedling tone than she typically employed. "It's the washable stuff. Every kid needs finger paint. It's cruel not to at least provide a basic set."

"This kit's not even sitting up on her own yet. What makes you think she can paint on her own?" Hera pointed out.

Sabine waved off the practicality with a practiced gesture and a pointed exhalation. "Who needs to be able to sit up to paint? All you need is the paint and the canvas. Chu'toro of Rodia was paralyzed young and most of his best work was done from a repulsor bed."

"I allow your paints on the Ghost under the stipulation that they stay in your bunk. What do you think would happen if we allowed a pre-verbal child to run around my ship with paint?"

"Ah, but as you just pointed out, dear captain, our new spectre-ling isn't walking yet," Ezra said with a crafty grin as he sidled up to the two women.

"Wait. Did you two just team up on me?" Hera asked, looking between the two teens in surprised suspicion.

Chopper joined in on the subtle gang-up with a long whir and several taps from a manipulator arm.

"Yeah, that one is not up for discussion," Hera said, immediately shutting the old droid out.

"And here I thought Sabine was the sensible one," Kanan observed from a distance. He, Zeb, and Rex were hanging back a little ways while Hera and the others canvased the market. They'd made a brief stopover on Telos for a supply run. The men had all thought the only things they would need were bottles, milk, and diapers, but Hera had swiftly disabused them of that notion. So while they gathered what was needed, the three older males kept an ear out for unwanted Imperial attention from the market perimeter.

"Y'know, if I didn't know better, I'd say they were excited about this new crew member," Rex said with a small chuckle.

"Is she a crew member, though?" Zeb asked with a small note of bitterness in his voice. "She can't stay with us. It's way too dangerous. She oughta be on Lira San. If we get attached now, it's just gonna cause more pain later," he growled.

At this, Kanan turned his head in Zeb's direction, tilting it marginally to the side in imitation of raising an eyebrow. "Something to say, Zeb?"

Zeb turned away from Kanan with a pained shrug, knowing that it didn't matter that the Jedi couldn't see the gesture. "What? You wanted sensible. That is sensible."

"Maybe it is, but that doesn't mean you're being sensible. This isn't just about the crew, is it," he said, more as a statement of fact than as a question.

Zeb faced stubbornly away from his friend for several minutes before finally groaning aloud, rolling his eyes skyward as he turned back. "Okay, fine. Kriffing Jedi. It's Kal. I'm worried about him."

"Kal," Kanan repeated the endearment in a thoughtful tone. "I heard the kids joking about it after some of your more recent encounters, but I didn't think-"

"Didn't think what?" he snapped.

"Calm down, big guy. No judgement here, just...curiosity. I'm not saying he hasn't done good work since becoming Fulcrum, but...what changed between you two? When did Kallus become Kal?"

Zeb glanced from side to side a moment, ears twitching and flattening against his skull in uncertainty before he managed an answer. "I'm not- rightly sure. It's just...on Bahryn...when we talked...I started seein' things I never had before...and I realized...that I couldn't unsee them...so I kept lookin'. We kept talkin'," he tried to explain, sighing in frustration as he shook his head. "That don't make any sense, does it."

Kanan nodded slowly. "It's starting to."

"You've gotta see these things quickly," Rex suddenly put into the conversation. "It's war. You never know how much time you're gonna have...before your chance disappears forever," the old clone said with a look of old sorrow in his eyes. There was clearly a story there neither of them knew, but before either one could ask him, he came right back in with, "So what are you worried about your man for? Aside from the obvious, of course."

At first, Zeb didn't know how to react to the question. Was Alex 'his' man? He knew there was a bond between them, but that was something he'd barely figured out himself, much less revealed to Alex. Did a handful of midnight conversations and a few stolen kisses count as his man? He didn't know, and he certainly didn't know what said man's thoughts on the subject were, but those were questions for another time. Rex's actual question had an easy enough answer.

"Did either of you see how he smiled?" he asked them, glancing helplessly down at his clawed fingers as he spoke.

"Smiled?" Kanan prompted, subtly reminding him that, no, he wouldn't have seen that. It was easy to forget sometimes.

"When Hera was helpin' him out with everything and he was lookin' down at the little squeak, smilin' at her like she was the star of his system," he recounted with a small, tender smile of his own.

"He was happy," Rex agreed, having seen the agent's expressions for himself.

"Yeah. Yeah, he was," the Lasat said, feeling a strangely mixed spike of joy and sorrow in his own heart as he remembered. "Kal is- he's...fragile...right now," he supplied, the word feeling odd on his tongue as he spoke it, even though he knew it was the right one. "He's strong...but it's because he's so strong that he's fragile. Dunno if that makes any more sense than anything else."

"Actually, that makes perfect sense to me," Kanan said with an intent nod.

"Good. Then maybe you can explain it to me sometime. I'm just- I'm worried what this could do to him. He doesn't- have much right now. He's in a dangerous place. He's all alone, livin' on hope and a few prayers. I'm afraid of what it could do to him...if he gets attached to this kit now and has to give her up...or if somethin' happens to her...I dunno if he'll survive it. I can't- I don't know where we are...not exactly...but I can't watch that happen," he finished with a despairing shrug, wrapping his arms around himself as he looked away from the other two men. He had no idea how either of them would take all this, but he'd said what he needed to. Was that enough?

After several minutes of this weighty silence, Kanan finally approached him, laying a hand on his arm as he began to speak. "I don't really know Kallus well enough to say one way or the other, but- one thing I do know is that he's the type who gives everything he is to what he believes in. While that's gonna be great for his Fulcrum work and great for us...I get why you're worried. That kind of devotion can destroy a man...but it can also save him. You can't protect him from himself, Zeb. All you can really do is be there for him when his moment comes."

Zeb sighed heavily as he raised his eyes to look at his friend. Whatever his true thoughts on Kallus were, he meant what he said in this moment, and the Lasat wasn't sure whether that was comforting or not. But, to whatever end, it was sincere, and he could at least appreciate that.

"I'm not really sure what it all means, but thanks, Kanan," he said, clapping the Jedi on the shoulder. Kanan offered him a light punch as they separated, his serious expression shifting into an amused grin.

"I hope you two manage to get yourselves figured out, though. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to shamelessly teasing you. But you do need a strong foundation for that. I can't mock you until you're secure in yourselves, so get on that for me, won't you?"

Zeb's first response was to give a warning growl to the knight, but that quickly shifted into a mirrored smirk. It was the only way Kanan knew to tell him he was happy for them – happy for what he was discovering in Kal. "Well, glad to know my relationships are such a source of amusement for you."

"They are. Some of the best," Kanan fired back easily, the smirk remaining in place as he backed away from him.

Zeb couldn't quite help smiling as he leaned back against the wall of the building whose shade he stood in. It was as much of a blessing as he was ever going to get from the Jedi and he wouldn't have it any other way. Really, it was as much of a blessing as whatever this was deserved right now. How had they gotten from Lothal to here? Bahryn had been the chink in their armor against one another, but...the weapon that had wrenched that chink wide open had been the mission to Bandomeer...

X

Zeb didn't know what it was that had prompted him to check down the left hand corridor. Sabine was doing just fine extracting the data from the backup terminals and Ezra had cleared the floor of threats. Zeb should've been fine keeping watch while the other two got their work done, but something – kriff knew what – had called his attention. So here he was, moving slowly down the corridor with his bo-rifle drawn, ready to shoot the first thing that moved.

Really, it was only the instinct of a moment that prevented him from shooting Agent Kallus when the ISB agent appeared around the next corner, his own bo-rifle drawn and in the firing configuration. It could've been little more than the widening of those amber eyes in recognition that caused the guardsman to stay his shot.

"Ka-" he started, but was quickly stopped when the agent delivered a harsh blow to his jaw, sending him stumbling into the nearest data vault. He was so surprised by the blow, it knocked him off his feet. The next thing he became aware of was Kallus standing over him with his bo-rifle aimed right between his eyes. "Really?" he snarled. After what they'd been through, they were going to do this again? Except...the anger in the ISB agent's gaze was not that of one enemy for another, but more of exasperation.

"Fight back, Lasat!" Kallus shouted, still not firing for some reason. It wasn't until the man mouthed at him, 'Attack me', with a mild look of panic in his eyes that Zeb began to understand what was happening. Sneering up at the man, he sprung his leg back and ruthlessly kicked his own legs out from under him.

The cry of pain that issued from the Imp's lips was real, but it didn't damage his focus enough to prevent him from firing 'wildly' at the two security cams in the vault as he went down. Zeb had inadvertently delivered his blow to Kallus' injured leg. Zeb shifted into a crouch, but the ISB agent couldn't manage to do more than sit up, grunting in pain as he did so.

"You know, I could have done with a little more of a pulled punch," the man gasped out with a slanted grimace in his direction.

"That assumes I was pullin'," Zeb snapped in response, not sure whether to maintain his position or move closer – or maybe just to run. "You gave me a bit of a turn there."

"That was careless, Garazeb," Kallus scolded him. "We are safe now, but you should know by now there are cams everywhere. Every move is watched. We cannot concede to more than an enemy's knowledge of one another. It would be...detrimental...to both of us," he finished, wincing in pain as he looked away from him.

"Right," he said, ears flattening guiltily against his head as he watched Kallus take stock of his bad leg. "Sorry about the leg. How's it holdin' up?"

Kallus quirked a dubious eyebrow as he looked up at him."Well, it was healing just fine before today, though I imagine this will set me back another month or so."

"Well, worse fates than takin' a break from the Empire," Zeb tried to joke, but Kallus' expression immediately shifted into something a little more serious.

"You just might be right about that."

Zeb surveyed Kallus for a long, silent moment, trying to read a figure he was used to seeing only hate and anger in. But something had changed after Bahryn. Something was gone from his face – or something was added. It was hard to say.

"You chase your answers then?" Zeb finally asked him.

"I did," Kallus responded quietly, some foreign look pricking in his eyes – something like grief or regret. Whether that regret was for what he now knew or what he could not now unknow, Zeb couldn't guess. All he could see was that hollow spectre of despair in the man's eyes – a look he was quite certain he himself had worn in the months following the fall of Lasan. "You were not, I fear, incorrect in your summation that I would not like what I found."

"You fear? " Zeb repeated, eyeing him warily. "Still a bit torn up over your precious Empire, are you?"

"It isn't exactly easy- to have the galaxy shift so suddenly beneath your feet!" Kallus bit out. "To fight for an ideal of peace and security...only to have all legitimate evidence suddenly point to what you were too blind to see? Do you know what it's like to have your reality unmade all around you?" he asked, the look in his eyes moving from despair to just lost.

Even so, Zeb couldn't help the small spark of anger in his chest. The only response he could manage was a low growl and a snarled, "You know that I do."

And only then did Kallus seem to realize the utter ignorance of the words that had left his mouth. Wincing, it took him a moment to look up at Zeb with an apology in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. That was- uncalled for. At least it wasn't your fault ...what happened to Lasan. You don't have things to atone for."

"You'd be surprised," Zeb admitted, recalling the guilt he'd carried with him for so many years over his inability to discharge his duties – for surviving when so many others had not. But then, maybe Kallus knew something of that – of being unable to sleep for the screaming, of seeing the fear and agony in the eyes of hundreds of children just before they were rendered into ash and smoke. If that was what this human carried in his heart and behind his eyes at night...as he did...maybe he could understand him a little better.

"Is forgiveness...even possible?" the Imperial agent asked in a small voice as he drew his good knee up against his chest, his bo-rifle resting across his bad leg like a broken toy. And as he watched the breakdown of this human who had once loomed so large as the face of the Empire, of their enemy , almost against his will, Zeb found himself recognizing something of himself in Agent Kallus.

Tinsahn Keeraw.

The phrase drifted unbidden to the surface of his thoughts, like a ghost from his past.

Tinsahn Keeraw.

The Way of the Bond.

The Bond, the Tinsahn, had been the way of his people for time out of mind, probably since the days of Lira San. What it meant, exactly, would be up to the two of them. To some, the Tinsahn was a bond of undying friendship, or of eternal brotherhood. Others still saw it as a bond of love, more than what most beings called marriage. He'd even heard stories as a kit of sworn enemies who'd referred to themselves as Tinsahn. Whatever it was, it was a bond of the spirit, and his soul had unwittingly recognized a bond between their two souls. It had sparked awake that night on Bahryn, but now he had given it the name it was due. What it meant, he still wasn't sure. All he could see for the moment was that he would have to tread carefully.

The child must save the life of the warrior.

One who sees things as they can be must save the life of the one who fights to create that destiny.

"I don't know," he answered honestly in response to the question Kallus had posed, uncertain what his own thoughts on the matter were anymore. All he could really do at this point was...maybe help the man find the right path? "But if that's really what you want, if you're serious about it, then you have to try ."

"What- what does that mean? Zeb..." the agent tried to ask, voice so helpless it actually drew a swell of pity from the Lasat.

"It means you can say anything you like, but unless you're gonna take action to mend what's past, no one's got any use for those bantha tears," Zeb pointed out, causing Kallus to swipe indignantly at his own face, even though there had been no tears to speak of. The sentiment remained the same. When Kallus didn't look away from him, Zeb tossed him a comlink. "So whenever you think you're ready, you go ahead and make that call."

"What is this?" Kallus asked as he gazed down at the comlink in his hand.

"It's funny. You'd think more people'd recognize a comlink when they saw one," Zeb responded with a chuckle.

"Truly? I never would have figured that one out," Kallus deadpanned, regarding him with as much superiority as he could from his position on the floor.

"It's a burn link," Zeb relented. "You can't track it, so don't get any funny ideas," he warned.

"I swear to you I would not do that," Kallus replied, something of his former earnestness bleeding through the Imperial superiority complex.

"Wouldn't you, though?" he probed, staring at the agent for several moments. Kallus stared right back, the ingrained Imperial coldness gradually draining away until he was left with that same lost but fervent look in his eyes.

"I would have...once. No longer."

"Good to know, but I suppose you can guess we can't exactly afford to take chances. I'm not the one you gotta convince," he said as he offered Kallus a hand up, which the human took. "I gave you the tools, but the decision's yours."

"I understand. Thank you...Zeb," he returned, a look of genuine gratitude in his eyes.

"Spectre Four, where are you?" Ezra's voice snapped over his comlink. "We got what we came for. If you're not back in two, we're leaving without you."

"Just takin' care of somethin'," Zeb replied. "Be right there."

"Reinforcements will be here soon," Kallus told him as he limped back to the vault door, keeping just out of sight of the corridor cam's range. "You would do better to make your escape from the leeward bay. They won't be expecting it."

"I'll hold you to that," Zeb said as he moved to join him. "We'd better make this look good."

"It occurs to me...I never told you my name," he said quietly as they moved into position.

"Hmm?"

"On Bahryn...you told me your name. I never gave you the same courtesy. It's Alexsandr," he finished, looking up at Zeb with something like vulnerability in his eyes, probably expecting him to make fun. And it was a pretty awful name, but still...there was something in the fact that he'd offered it freely.

"Well, good to know you, Alexsandr Kallus," Zeb said before punching him back out into the corridor, back under the eyes of the cams, and if he hit him a little harder than strictly necessary, well, who was going to call him on it?

XxX

Kallus was ready when the call from the Ghost came through. Changing back into his uniform and armor had been a much heavier thing than he'd expected. It felt unsettlingly akin to tying weights to his feet and jumping into the ocean. He felt the fabric of his jacket closing around his throat like a collar, and the unyielding material of his cuirass weighing upon his chest like grave dirt. When had this charade become so hard?

Unable to shake the morbid thoughts, the former Imperial threw himself into the task of preparing both Arkalia and himself for the ride ahead, as it would by no means be a smooth one.

They'd collectively come to the conclusion that the only way he'd be able to smuggle the little kit offworld unnoticed would be under the auspices of some sort of emergency situation. So the Ghost was going to provide that the meantime, it was up to Kallus to set the scenario up planetside. He'd taken a few shots at his speeder with his bo-rifle to make it look like it had seen combat against another bo-rifle. Only an atom by atom inspection of the transport would reveal that it had been his own weapon. Next he roughed himself up to make it seem like he'd been in a fight. He'd be lying if he said it didn't bring him a certain amount of pleasure to tear into his own uniform and scuff up his own armor. There was a degree of self-punishment in it he found himself worryingly soothed by. It wasn't as difficult as he'd feared it might be to cut into his own skin, leaving a scattering of cuts and blood stains. Near the end, he was even zealous enough to burn his arms with the superheated muzzle of his blaster pistol, imitating a plasma graze.

Once he'd beaten himself up to his liking, he carried the nested Arkalia to the speeder, tucking her far into the back of one of the speeder's stowage compartments. Logically, he knew she wouldn't smother, but he hadn't done this before now out of simple paranoia.

"Ready to get out of here, little girl?" he asked her, leaning down to nuzzle the top of her head. The kit let out a sleepy, satisfied burble before he closed the knapsack over her head. He'd made certain she was fed and changed before everything began, so hopefully she would be asleep for the journey and not call any attention to herself. Kallus made sure that the knapsack was secure and wouldn't shift during the trip before closing the compartment and mounting the speeder, immediately taking off for the capital.

That part of the plan, at least, was uneventful. When he reached the rise above Alluria's capital city, Forowa, he killed the speeder completely, checking to make sure Arkalia really was asleep before proceeding. Sliding the knapsack out from its hiding place, he peeked inside to see the kit deep asleep, giving a wide yawn before rolling over in her nest. One stroke of luck at least.

"I am in position," he hailed the Ghost as he revved his speeder back up, "whenever you would like to proceed with this madness."

"We are go," Hera's voice announced over the comm.

"See you on the other side, Alex," Zeb's voice sounded soon after.

"I look forward to it, Garazeb."

"Wait! His name's Alex? Since when is his name Alex?" Ezra's voice tagged onto the conversation.

"Presumably since I was born, Jabba," Kallus couldn't quite help sniping back, but before Ezra could get another word in, the roar of their shuttle's engines sounded in the distance. Kallus looked back out to the grasslands to see their lander, the Phantom II, screaming through the air. Within moments it was flying overhead, straight toward the city. Then, at the last possible moment, it took to the sky, shooting upward and breaking through the atmosphere, and no doubt appearing very clearly on the local Imperial scopes.

The moment the craft was out of sight, Kallus gunned the speeder toward the city, easily bypassing the checkpointed entryway. Worried over being discovered, it wasn't difficult to pretend to be angry and in a hurry. He was not stopped when he hurtled through port control and into the military section of the city's space port. Spying what he needed, the agent spurred his craft toward a shuttle that was preparing for flight, shouting at any lingering troopers or deck personnel who hadn't yet cleared the way to step aside. He guided the speeder straight up the shuttle's loading ramp, not stopping until he was properly onboard. Shutting down, he leapt from the transport and quickly sought out the ranking officer overseeing the loading.

"Lieutenant, I'm commandeering this shuttle," he announced as he moved past the man and up to the pilot's cabin.

"I- Agent Kallus- of...b- what?" the lieutenant finally settled on, following after him in a daze.

"The rebel cell that's been hounding me interfered with my sting operation. They escaped with other rebels. I'm going after them. Therefore I am commandeering your ship," he explained a little slower as he began to plot his own course.

"You- mean the ship that just disappeared from our scopes? That was them?" the man blustered.

"Yes, and every minute I waste down here is another opportunity for them to slip through my fingers. Get your personnel unloaded at once," he snapped at the lieutenant.

"Sir, you can't...you can't possibly think you'll catch them still in the system," the lieutenant stammered out nervously. "They'll be long gone by the time you get offworld."

"Those rebels won't get far. There ship was damaged in the skirmish. They'll hide out somewhere in the system. I'll find them. I'll find them quicker if you leave me to my work. Now I believe I gave you an order," he said, glaring at the officer out of the corner of his eye.

"I...you...surely you'll want a backup squad," the man tried to argue.

"Later, Lieutenant. I will send for backup when I have them. We haven't the time right now. Get going!"

The lieutenant was slowly backing away, clearly fumbling for some other excuse. The rest of his men had already taken the hint and vacated the shuttle, but he was still clinging. It wasn't out of suspicion – yet. But if he kept this up much longer, it was going to be.

"This is all- very irregular."

"Routing out rebels is never routine, Lieutenant. I assure you. Your attention to detail is noted and appreciated and I will be sure to make mention of you in my report, Lieutenant...?"

"Ergar, Sir," he answered, finally beginning to ease up, a hopeful expression starting to light his face.

"Lieutenant Ergar, then. Thank you. This will not be forgotten. But I really do need to leave. Return to your men. Keep someone posted on comms and I will be sure to alert you the moment I need assistance," he said, silently urging the officer backward. Stars, where was the Jedi's kriffing Force when you actually needed it.

"Right. Of course, Sir. Thank you, Sir," Lieutenant Ergar said as he finally stumbled off the loading ramp. The moment he was clear, Kallus locked the ship down, quickly going through power up procedures and flight checks. He had to resist the urge to try and override flight control on his way out. If he tried to argue with them, somebody would get suspicious. They were almost home free. He couldn't blow it now.

Then, at long last, Kallus breathed a sigh of relief as the shuttle broke atmo. He didn't know how, but he'd actually snuck a Lasat baby past the Empire. And now that he was free of flight control's tether, he could properly plot a course for Alluvium, and it was only when his hands began to tremble over his work that he started to comprehend just how nerve-racking the whole ordeal had been up to this point. He was tempted to go back and check on his little passenger, but he forced himself to complete his calculations first, getting them safely away from Alluria before doing anything else.

When they were finally away, Kallus allowed himself to head back to where he'd left the speeder. He would've preferred to check on Arkalia before taking off, but it just would've been too risky. When he pulled the knapsack from its hiding place, hopefully for the last time, he was relieved to see the little kit only just blinking awake. Sleepily wriggling an arm free of her nest, she reached her hand out to him, asking to be picked up. He was only too happy to oblige her.

Gently lifting the baby in his arms, he half-collapsed against the speeder, only just beginning to feel his own exhaustion. After the run-in back in Trion City, he'd decided not to sleep the second night. The lack of sleep and the tension of the last two days were finally beginning to wear on him. In a way, though, he was finding it soothing to hold the infant in his arms.

"Muh, muh, muh," Arkalia burbled in an almost tuneful manner as he rocked her. The chatter was quickly followed by a more feline-sounding trill.

Kallus smiled faintly as he looked down at her. "What heartless monster could harm such a sweet little thing? Hmm?" he wondered aloud as he offered her a finger to suck on. He hadn't been expecting an answer but when he received one, it was like a painful shock to his system.

The disruptor's dispersal beam is wider than he expects, even for a controlled shot. He'd meant only to take out the guardsman coming at him.

Instead he takes out the entire street.

The guardsman, the focus of his attack, bears the brunt of the ion disruptor. He vaporizes almost instantly. For everyone else caught in the weapon's arc of fire, the process is slower.

He sees his victims convulse, caught within the horrific green glow, sees agony and terror boil in their eyes just before they go up in smoke – nothing remaining but a fading cloud of ash.

At the last, he sees a mother trying to shield her child from the blast. At the outer limits of the blast radius, they take the longest to die. He has time to witness tears evaporating off the young one's face, has a small eternity for her agonized cries to pierce his ears. In some distant corner of his mind, he's aware that the sound of those screams will never truly leave his ears.

Then they're gone, and he's alone. Every single Lasat who had been unfortunate enough to be on that street in that moment is nothing more than a handful of dust...and he's still here...breathing it in.

He wants to toss the weapon aside. He wants to shatter it in pieces even smaller than the living beings he's just murdered . But his hands are clenched too tightly around the heated metal, and some tiny, insane part of his charred soul is aware that if he lets go now, he will break. Something inside of him will shatter beyond any hope of repair or healing.

So, choking on the horror of what he's done, Alexsandr Kallus drops to his knees and screams.

Kallus wouldn't have recognized the agonized cry that escaped his throat, so he could hardly be surprised when it frightened Arkalia. When he awoke to just how tightly he was clutching her in his arms, she'd already begun to wail. Briefly, he had to resist the urge to remove himself from the little girl, to place her back in her nice, safe nest and put as much distance between the two of them as possible. For what could he do but hurt this innocent child?

No! She was helpless. She needed someone to care for her. It wasn't her fault that someone was him. So, slowly working himself down from the horror and panic of the flashback, he loosened his grip on the kit, shifting her to rest against his chest. While her small head rested against his racing heart, he began to stroke her back, taking comfort just as much as giving it.

"Shh, shh, you're all right," he soothed as he cradled her in his arms, leaning his head against hers to encircle her further. "We're both all right. Nothing's going to happen. I won't let anything happen to you, ni kyra," he crooned, vaguely remembering the endearment her mother had used.

Gradually, her tears lessened, but she still wasn't settling. Starting in on stroking the fur behind her ears, Kallus once again invoked her mother's lullaby, humming the wordless melody while continuing to rock her. But while he continued to do his best to keep things calm for her, the thoughts continued to whirl through his head – thoughts and feelings that he had forced to lie dormant for years.

It was like he'd told Zeb. It had never been anything personal. He'd only ever been doing his duty.

Good soldiers follow orders.

They didn't question. They trusted that what they were doing was for the greater good – that their suffering and sacrifice would one day mean something, even if they didn't understand what. It was what he had done – given his loyalty in the hope that his pain would bring about a better galaxy. He'd believed in the Empire, but that was only because if he'd let himself consider anything else...

Do good soldiers murder children?

The former Imperial took several breaths at this, stopping his line of thought before it could take him back to a place he didn't want to go. Arkalia needed him to be here. He couldn't keep slipping like this. He was at least relieved to notice her finally settling when he felt and heard the beginning rumblings of her contented purring. Lifting a hand from her blanket, she clumsily pawed at his chest.

"Ahm, ahm, ahm," she cooed sweetly, drawing a small laugh and a smile from him. It was only when he leaned down to drop a small kiss on the top of her head that he noticed the wetness in her hair. Mystified, he reached a hand up to his face to feel the tear tracks there.

He'd been...crying?

Stars, what had this kit reduced him to? Here he was, a stoic, hard-bitten Imperial Intelligence agent turned rebel spy who hadn't shed tears in more than a decade, and he'd caught himself crying twice in just the past two days.

"Somehow I get the feeling you'll be the death of me, little one," he said softly, continuing to cradle her easily against his chest as he drifted into a kind of half-doze, spending the entire journey in that strange partly-aware state. He only came out of it when a proximity alert sounded from the cockpit, letting him know they were coming up on Alluvium.

Carrying Arkalia up to the cockpit with him, he settled her in his lap as he pulled them out of hyper space, relieved to see the green jewel of a world floating in the void before them. On a rational level, he knew the flight to the prearranged coordinates was much longer than it seemed, but to him it seemed to be over in an instant. On approach, he could easily make out the Ghost and her lander, nestled between the curve of a river and the embrace of a forest.

To avoid potential suspicion, he didn't set down in their vicinity. Rather he landed just out of their sight and piloted the speeder the final distance. When he finally pulled up to the ship, he was almost surprised to see the Spectre cell setting up a sort of campsite at the base of the Ghost's loading ramp. Kanan and Rex were setting up a generator while Ezra and Chopper argued over the contents of an open crate. While this was going on, Zeb, Hera, and Sabine were busy unloading more crates from the ship. When Zeb spotted him approaching, he very nearly tossed the crate he was carrying aside. Hera had to remind him to set the crate down, which the Lasat did with a small grumble before waving at him, hurrying over to the speeder.

"You made it," the former guardsman said in a relieved voice as he came up beside Kallus. "We were startin' to get worried."

"Zeb was worried. The rest of us could take it or leave it, honestly," Kanan put in with a small snicker.

"Kanan!" Hera scolded him.

"What? I'm just telling it square. I'm not gonna pretend this guy hasn't tortured me."

"Heheh, of course," Kallus acknowledged with a small, pained laugh, but the tone of it must've caught at something in the Jedi's awareness, because his light-hearted manner immediately smoothed over, becoming contemplative and concerned as he 'looked' in the former Imperial's direction. Kallus tried to ignore the sudden intensity of the knight's attention, making an effort to keep his own attention on Zeb's smile – a feat not all that difficult, all things being even.

The smile widened as Zeb leaned in close to him, a single clawed hand tracing lightly along the line of his cheek. Their faces were mere inches apart and Kallus found his breath stuttering mildly as he breathed in that familiar Lasat musk.

"I really- have been worryin' about you," he mumbled awkwardly, the joy in his eyes briefly dimming beneath the dampening effect of what had clearly been a very intense worry. Cupping Kallus' face in his hand, Zeb gently pressed their foreheads together. "Are you all right?"

"You needn't have worried," he returned simply as he breathed in the Lasat's closeness like oxygen. He couldn't outright lie and say that he was all right. That couldn't be further from the truth. But here, right now, being held like this, he was as close to all right as he could be.

"I missed you, Alex," he said tenderly.

"I missed you more," he whispered just before they pressed their lips together.

This wasn't like the stolen moments they'd shared before. Every kiss they'd exchanged before this moment had been hushed and harried, flavored with the ashy fear of impending death or discovery. Now they could actually take a moment to just feel. Alex could feel the softness of Zeb's fur beneath his fingers, and the sculpted power of the muscles beneath that. He could feel the way the Lasat surrounded and enveloped him, as if trying to enfold them into a single being. He memorized the taste of Zeb's lips against his own, and the strength and gentleness of his grip. For a moment, just a moment, they separated for a breath of air, foreheads still pressed together and eyes still closed.

"Oh, Zeb," he exhaled in quiet wonder before starting in on another kiss.

Their moment was interrupted all too soon, though, when the clone trooper offered up a loth wolf whistle at the sight.

"Hey, come on! Get a bunk, you guys," Sabine teased lovingly.

"Y'know, it's both cute and disturbing," Ezra commented. "Zeb and an Imperial."

The pair both snickered quietly at the running commentary, but they didn't really let it disturb them. What finally brought them out of the moment was a high-pitched squeal for attention. They broke apart to glance down in the direction of the noise to see a tiny paw attempting to work its way out of the knapsack still at Alex's side. Still seated on the speeder, he reached inside and pulled Arkalia out into the dimming evening light. Zeb gave a small chuckle at the sight of her.

"So this is our little package," he said, smiling awkwardly as he reached forward to tickle the kit under her chin. This produced another delighted squeal from the little one. "You've been causin' a lot of trouble for somethin' so little, spriggit."

"Garazeb Orrelios, I would like you to meet Arkalia," Alex introduced, being as formal as he could for the occasion, even without a surname for the little kit.

"Hey there, Kali," Zeb greeted as warmly as he knew how, shifting his scratches up to just behind her ears. Arkalia immediately began to nuzzle into the touch, trilling in happiness. Looking up at Alex, he held up his arms for her. "Here. I can hold her while you climb down."

"Of course," he agreed as he slowly passed Arkalia over, the only reason he wasn't more hesitant because this was Zeb. They took to each other very quickly, both smiling wide, toothy grins as they bonded. And this happy sight was the last thing to pass through Kallus' awareness before he collapsed coming down off the speeder.

"ALEX!" Zeb's terrified voice sounded somewhere in his head. He was barely aware of the Lasat moving in to catch him before he could fall.

"Ungh...sorry...I'm- sorry," he groaned, struggling to try and regain his feet.

"What are you apologizing for, you kriffing moonbrain?!" Zeb snarled at him.

"Language, Garazeb," he scolded right back.

"Somebody take her," the former guardsman called out to his friends. Kallus didn't see who it was. He couldn't keep his gaze focused long enough. He managed to regain his footing enough to mostly stand, but he knew that if Zeb stepped away from him now, he would collapse.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"Kal, what happened? What's wrong?" Zeb demanded.

"Nothing, I just- I haven't slept in a few cycles," he admitted, fingers tangling in Zeb's fur in order to keep himself grounded. From the way he felt the Lasat's head move, he could tell he was rolling his eyes.

"Nothin's wrong, he says. Been so busy worryin' about takin' care of the little squeak, you've just about forgot you're as mortal as the rest of us. Come on," he started, beginning to lead Kallus toward the Ghost. "We're gonna get you patched up."

"But...what about...Arkalia?" he mumbled, trying to reach a hand back, but he couldn't protest much more than that as Zeb continued to half-drag him to the ship.

"Don't you worry about her. She's well looked after. The others can take care of her. Me? I'm gonna take care of you, whether you like it or not," the Lasat said firmly as he pulled him up the loading ramp.

Alex didn't really see what part of the infamous Spectre ship he was led to. He was only vaguely aware of being lifted and settled onto some kind of table. The first thing he became sharply aware of was the snap of his armor as Zeb began to remove his cuirass.

"You know," he began without thought, "if you wanted to get my clothes off, all you had to do was ask."

Wait. What?

Lifting his head to glance up at Zeb after the horrifically embarrassing comment, he found the Lasat looking him over with a worried eye.

"Okay, you're really out of it, Kal. The Alexsandr Kallus I know would only flirt at blasterpoint and even then, might choose to suck the plasma rather than say something like that."

"Sorry," he mumbled as Zeb began to help him out of his uniform jacket, stripping him down to his undershirt. "I don't know what I'm saying."

"Kal...what happened?" Zeb asked him again as he surveyed the cuts and burns that adorned his body.

"Had to...sell it," he answered faintly. "Had to actually- make it look like I was in a fight. They might've asked questions."

"You mean...you did this to yourself?" Zeb demanded, eyes widening in horrified realization.

"Had to," he whispered, head briefly slumping forward to rest against Zeb's shoulder. "Had to."

"I- I get that, Alex, but there's a limit. You do so much for this cause every kriffing day. You shouldn't have to do this, too. Promise me you're not gonna do this again," he half-snarled as he held the former Imperial at arm's length.

For a moment, Kallus couldn't get any words to come out of his mouth, Zeb was looking at him with such open caring...such naked fear...but how could he make a promise like that? When there was still so much he had left to do...to make up for?

"I'll do my best," was the closest he could come to such words. "I don't know- what may be needed in the future."

Zeb's features twisted in frustrated anger as he growled at Kallus. "That's not good enough. Nowhere near good enough, but we'll talk again when you're feelin' a bit more sentient," he said before beginning to apply bacta patches to the agent's injuries – and Alex would be lying through his teeth if he said he didn't enjoy the gentle feeling of Zeb's hands on him, caring for him.

Stars, but it had been so long since anyone had just touched him.

"I'm gonna get you into bed the second we're done here," Zeb informed him as he continued to work. "We were puttin' together a sort of...welcome dinner for you, but- yeah, that can keep 'til later."

"No, don't- you all don't have to trouble yourselves over me," he tried to argue.

"Oh, that part's happenin' pretty definitely. May as well get used to it."

"Then I- suppose it would be rude of me...to keep everyone waiting," he said, straightening up. "I could eat. Think I'm finally hitting that second wind."

Zeb raised an eyebrow at him as he checked over his work. "Hmm. That's nice. Now explain to me why I don't believe you."

"Well, neither of us has anything to gain or lose for being wrong," Alex returned as he stood from the table, wobbling for only a moment before regaining his footing. "If I'm wrong, you'll get to say 'I told you so' in the morning."

Zeb growled as he narrowed his eyes at him. "Yeah, 'cuz that's the point of all this. You don't have to push yourself so hard, Alex. You're allowed to sleep."

"And I will...when I decide to sleep," he returned firmly, meeting Zeb's gaze dead on, challenging him to say otherwise.

Zeb shook his head, the glare only lifting minutely at the corners of his mouth. "Fine, but if you fall asleep outside, I'm leavin' you out there."

Alex gave a small chuckle and a mirroring shake of the head in response. "Fair enough. I'll be fine anywhere, really, so long as Arkalia has a place to sleep."

"Oh, she'll be fine. She's gonna be in Sabine's bunk with her. Kiddo's lookin' forward to havin' a younger sibling again," he said, nodding to let Alex know which way he was heading. He followed without hesitation.

"That's good," he said quietly. He'd known the Ghost crew would do right by Arkalia, but it was more of a relief to actually see that she was already coming into a loving situation, and that was proven when they emerged from the ship.

Hera and Chopper were going through the contents of the open crate, maybe figuring out the food situation. Sabine was holding Arkalia, feeding her from a bottle while Ezra and Rex looked on. Kanan was sitting a little further away from them, still looking generally contemplative – so much as Alex could actually see his face beneath his mask.

"No, Chop. Put the nawin back. We're not trying to poison anybody."

"Thirsty little shiny, isn't she," Rex commented as he watched.

"She's a really good feeder," Sabine said with a smile. "Hope she's this enthusiastic all the time."

"She has been so far," Alex put in as he and Zeb joined the group. Sabine, Ezra, and Rex all looked up at the sound of his voice.

"Well," Ezra started with an awkward laugh, "guess who's coming to dinner."

For a moment, Kallus didn't quite know what to do. They all just stared at each other, and the former Imperial had no idea if he was welcome to join the conversation or not. But Sabine quickly resolved the issue with a welcoming smile.

"Think you've got a pretty good handle on her feeding habits, Kallus? I'm gonna need all the tips I can get. Your boyfriend hasn't exactly been forthcoming."

Kallus found himself blushing lightly at this. Was that what they were? They'd never really defined this thing between them. Zeb said nothing to contest the point, just grumbled vaguely in Sabine's direction while he pulled Kallus to sit beside him on one of the crates.

"I like to think so," Kallus finally answered. "There's probably a great deal still to learn, though."

"There always is," Sabine returned as she wiped a dribble of milk from Arkalia's chin.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Kanan asked him, suddenly joining in on the conversation.

"I will," Kallus returned, pausing only a moment when Zeb put an arm around his shoulder. "I suppose I just- wanted to see what was happening first. We're going to need a plan."

"Nope," Hera immediately interrupted. "No planning tonight. Tonight is just for family. So you just keep your seat and relax. We'll take care of everything else."

"Family..." Alex said quietly, mulling over the notion as he rested his head against Zeb's shoulder. He'd never had one of those. What did he know about family? How did this disparate band of no accounts come together to form a family?

The same way Zeb and I came together, I suppose...or how Arkalia came to me...

Family...

Faintly, he felt Zeb's lips press against his ear, whispering something to him, but he couldn't quite make it out. He was just so kriffing tired.

Alex had no more time to puzzle it out before he was sound asleep in Zeb's arms.

Chapter Text

The layout is the same – the same as it's ever been. He sees the Lasat coming at him, the guardsman raising his bo-rifle for a killing blow. The call's gone out. He's needed. He can't die here. Sure of himself, but still saddened, he raises the ion disruptor to fire on his enemy.

No! Don't!

He must.

Please don't do this! Please! You'll regret it forever.

No different from the way he regrets every life he's had to take. This one isn't different. Some things have to be done.

You don't know what you're doing! It will destroy you. Please! Stop before it's too late.

Only it's already too late. Lasan made a choice to stand in defiance of the Empire. That can't be allowed. The choice is made.

He raises the disruptor once more. Aims. Primes the weapon. It's the only warning he'll give.

His enemy continues his advance.

Please! There has to be another way!

There isn't.

NOO!

Taking careful aim, he lets go the trigger. The destruction spreads in an unchecked wave before him, as it always does. But one crucial thing is different now.

The face of his attacker.

It's no longer the unknown Lasat from his nightmares.

It's Zeb.

Zeb is the one coming at him with a look of murder in his eyes – the one caught up in the horrific green glow as it washes over him...runs through him.

Zeb is the one whose eyes bulge in fear just before he-

NOOOOO!

"NOOO!"

Alex woke from the nightmare with a startled cry, gaze darting wildly around the room, unable to make out anything in the dark.

Zeb...where...I didn't- Zeb!

"Alex?" the Lasat's worried voice came from somewhere out of the darkness. "What's wrong?"

Though he still couldn't see much in the dark, he was able to recognize the large clawed hand that suddenly appeared beside him on the bed. Reaching out to grip Zeb's hand in desperate fingers, he pulled the hand forward, holding it against his face.

"Zeb...I saw...I thought..." he struggled to explain, unable to get the words out.

The Lasat made a gentle purring sound at this, running a thumb over his cheek. "It's okay. It's okay," he soothed over and over again. "Just breathe."

"It...was only a nightmare, Garazeb. Just a dream," he attempted to assure himself in an effort to shake off the comfort Zeb was trying to offer him.

"Yeah, not for nothing, but I don't know if there's any such thing as 'just a nightmare' on board this ship," Zeb said, going for levity and not quite making it.

"This...where are we?" Alex asked as he sat up, still gripping Zeb's hand.

"You're in our bunk," Ezra's voice came from overhead, cluing the former Imperial in to the fact that it was a literal bunk bed. "On board the Ghost."

"I...you..." he started in confusion, trying to read Zeb's features as they gradually began to appear out of the darkness.

"Gave you my bed for the night," the Lasat explained with a small smile. "I don't think a pair of krayt dragons could'a woke you up last night. You were pretty much dead to the galaxy."

He must have been if being moved to a bed hadn't even stirred him. Normally, Zeb even shifting beside him would've woken him. But the notion of Zeb carrying him anywhere conjured up a myriad host of very interesting mental images for the double agent, leaving him blushing mildly in the darkness and hoping Zeb couldn't see it.

"I...we...did you..." he found himself trying to ask, not completely certain what he wanted the answer to be.

So very eloquent, Alexsandr.

"You had the bed to yourself," Zeb started, running a thumb along the back of his hand. "Just shucked your boots for you, nothin' else. I didn't wanna...presume anythin'," he said, his free hand moving to the back of his head in that familiar awkward gesture.

"So you...what? Slept on the floor?" he asked, at once touched by the consideration for his feelings and guilt-ridden for stealing the Lasat's bunk from him. Zeb shrugged in response.

"Not like I haven't slept in worse places. I was just happy to see you get some proper rest. You were dead on your feet."

"Cold comfort, I suppose...for being able to say you told me so. Sorry to take your bed from you," he returned with a pained smile.

Zeb shook his head. "No thing. But I did tell you," he said, smirking wickedly before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Alex's forehead. But before he could pull away, Alex lifted his head to capture Zeb's lips with his own, seeking the precious intimacy of the kiss from last night.

The Lasat was only too willing to give it. Clasping their joined hands a little more tightly together, he reached his free hand forward to tangle it in Alex's loosened hair, gently cupping the back of his head as they kissed. For his part, all the former Imperial wanted was to lose himself in it – to cease feeling like the him that still answered to the Empire and just wrap himself up in everything that was Garazeb Orrelios. He wanted to be as close to Zeb as he could be, to feel him clutched between both hands and dispel the horror of his nightmare...

"Zeb," he moaned softly, pleadingly as the Lasat lowered his head to press a searingly delicate kiss to the pulse point in his neck. Zeb groaned in response, the low rumble reverberating through both of them as Alex clung to him.

The moment was soon interrupted, though, when Ezra vaulted over Zeb's head to escape the top bunk, turning back to them with a smirk that was only half annoyed.

"And we've officially entered 'too much information about Agent Alexsandr Kallus' territory."

"That a fact?" Zeb called over his shoulder with a smirk of his own. "'Cuz I seem to remember you and Sabine bein' on about your guffs about Lasat blue balls."

"Yeah, that was before I actually had to see it. I said I was cool with everything so long as I got some advance warning to clear out," the teenaged Jedi pointed out, the grin still on his face belying the annoyance in his words.

"Y'know, it is morning. Nothin' sayin' you have to stick around," Zeb fired back as he climbed up on the bunk to sit beside Alex, leaving the former Imperial blushing a little deeper at the implication of what Ezra's leaving could mean. The young Jedi actually laughed in response.

"For once you're right. I'm out," he said, moving to open the door and head out, only to come face to face with his master.

"Everything all right in here?" Kanan asked, raising an eyebrow at the scene he couldn't see. "We heard some shouting."

"Of course," Alex answered. "Just a few bad dreams. Sorry if I disturbed anyone."

Kanan shook his head in response. "Happens to the best of us. You doing all right?"

Alex was about to brush the Jedi's concern off with another simple dismissal, but then he found himself remembering the knight's intent focus from the previous night and felt like the man just might know some of the things that were on his mind. Kanan Jarrus could be a problem for the practiced calm of his controlled military exterior. But then, they could all be that, couldn't they.

"Better," he finally answered, which wasn't untrue, but was maybe less of an answer than the knight had wanted. Whatever the case, it seemed to pacify him and his padawan, also drawing a smile from Zeb. His next words, however, were in perfect sincerity. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For opening your home to me like this...even after everything I've done. After all, I was under the impression I would be sleeping outside," he said, throwing Zeb a teasing smirk.

Kanan actually laughed at that one. "Yeah. Sure. As if Zeb would ever let you. He'd bend over backwards and more to make sure you were comfortable."

Alex turned his focus a little more intently on Zeb at this. Once again, the Lasat was rubbing at the back of his head in embarrassment. It took him a moment to catch the former guardsman's eye again, but when he did, it was with a surprisingly easy smile.

"I know," he said to both Zeb and Kanan, feeling something inside of him catch fire when the simple words brought a bright smile to the familiar features, full and so warm. Alex actually found himself trembling lightly beneath the affection in the gaze, unable to help leaning forward and pressing a tiny kiss to the corner of that smile. He could feel Zeb shifting to reciprocate, but then Kanan continued speaking.

"Well, everyone's awake now. Guess we should probably see about some breakfast. Hera pulled a couple strings back on Telos."

"Ooh," Ezra started in excitement. "Does that mean we finally get to break into those meiloorun pasties?"

"It just might."

Alex was about to offer his own input on the notion when a shrill baby wail suddenly split the air, sending a small jolt of panic through his system.

"Arkalia," he whispered before half-leaping from the bunk, moving swiftly past Ezra and Kanan. It didn't take him long to track the sound to another of the open bunks, sticking his head inside to see Chopper and Hera looking on while a sleepy-but-happy-looking Sabine wrestled with the wriggling kit on some sort of collapsible changing table. Still mostly out of it, she started to reach for an open crate that was situated next to the station. The first thing she pulled out was a tiny purple rattle. For a moment, she stared at the toy as if she'd never seen it before.

"Nope. That's not it," she mumbled vaguely before tossing the rattle aside. "Chop, could you pass me a diaper?"

That request was met with a high-pitched whistle and a quick series of beeps before the droid spun in a complete circle.

"Mm, Hera, I haven't been awake long enough. Would you consider that mutiny?" the Mandalorian asked with a large yawn.

"I just might."

Alex didn't wait to see how the conversation played out. He rushed into the bunk and straight to Sabine's side. "What do you need?" he pressed.

"Oh. G'morning, Kallus," the teen returned with a sleepy smile. "Pass me a fresh diaper, yeah?" she said, pointing to one of the stacks in the crate with one hand while holding Arkalia's pudgy little legs in the other. Alex quickly complied, passing her the diaper.

"What else?"

"Powder tablet."

That one took a bit longer, but he eventually figured out which container she was pointing to, retrieving a small tablet from inside and passing it to her. Crushing the tablet over the new diaper to powder it, she quickly got Arkalia secured, picking her up just as soon as she was changed and bouncing her lightly as she started to pace the room.

"Not really sure what's wrong, though. She didn't start crying until after I'd started changing her," Sabine said absently. "Where'd that rattle go?"

For a moment, Alex felt nervous even asking. After all, wasn't he supposed to be passing her care over to the Ghost crew? After a time, though, he held his arms out for the infant. What could a little more time hurt?

"May I?" he asked.

"Sure. Show me what you've got," Sabine said as she passed the baby Lasat over to him. Alex was almost surprised at how easy it was to settle the little girl against his chest, cradling her close against his heartbeat as he began to hum the already familiar lullaby, stroking just behind her ears.

With the apparent magic of what passed for his singing, it didn't take Arkalia long to settle down, babbling right along with him as she waved her tiny arms in the air. When he finally looked up from the kit in his arms, it was to see that Zeb, Ezra, and Kanan had all appeared in the doorway. Kanan and Hera both had faint smiles on their lips while the two teens looked on with open adoration in their eyes. Zeb, though...Zeb's expression was one of wonder – a look that contained both joy and sorrow in eyes misted over by long-forgotten memory.

"Zeb?" he pressed gently, uncertain of what the look might mean.

"I haven't...heard that song in years," he mumbled distantly. "Not since...since Lasan...didn't think I ever would again..."

"You know it?" Alex asked, feeling a bitterly mixed flare of excitement and guilt ignite in his heart.

"It...it's an old Lasat lullaby. Song's about...new beginnings...light after dark," he said as he moved into the room, coming to stand beside Alex.

"Her mother- was humming it for her before she...you mean there are words?" he asked instead of finishing the first sentence.

Zeb nodded, actually singing a few lines as he reached out to tickle Arkalia under the chin. The kit trilled in pleasure, her small voice blending with Zeb's deep, gravelly tone. Alex's grasp of Lasana was rudimentary at best. He thought he caught something about snow and life and sadness, but he really just couldn't piece it all together. When the Lasat suddenly seemed to snap out of his near-trance state, the singing ceased.

"I didn't know you could sing, Zeb," Kanan said with a slightly wry smile.

"Well, if you call that singin'," the former guardsman said with a shrug. Then he stroked the top of Arkalia's head, which earned him a pleased purr. "Guess little squeak here liked it, though, so it couldn't'a been that bad."

"What do they mean? The lyrics?" Alex asked, now curious. Zeb shrugged again, glancing down at his feet.

"I don't know how well it would translate. Not much of a hand at poetry myself. Hey, Sabine? You don't do anything with poetry, do you?" Zeb asked, turning the group's attention to the young artist. Sabine shook her head apologetically.

"I'm pretty strictly a visual artist. No way with words here. Ketsu dabbles in poetry sometimes, though," she said, her expression brightening as the thought occurred to her. "I could pass the translation to her. She might be able to give you something."

"Yeah," Zeb said with a small sideways smile at Alex, who returned the look with a tiny smile of his own.

"That would be nice," he agreed. "But you are going to teach me the words in Lasana, as well. I ought to learn more Lasana. This is as good a place to start as any."

"Sure. If you like," Zeb conceded, but before either of them could say anything more, Rex's voice suddenly echoed in from the common area.

"BREAKFAST!"

The crew laughed at the sound of the raucous summons.

"I thought I smelled those pasties cooking. First pick," Hera announced on her way out of Sabine's bunk. No one contested her as they all fell in line to troop to the common area, Zeb and Alex taking up the rear with Arkalia. When they arrived in the central space, it was to find the little table laden with an actual meal – as much of one as it could hold, at least.

"I smell bacon. Since when do we get bacon?" Zeb demanded as he made for the table.

"Like I said, Hera pulled some strings," Kanan said, using the Force to lift one of the meiloorun pasties from the platter at the center of the table.

Hera raised an eyebrow at the knight as the pastie drifted across the space. "Isn't that inappropriate use of the Force or something?"

"Not when you're using it to deliver the choicest pastie to your darling partner," Kanan declared with a small nod as he deposited the fruit pastie directly into Hera's hands. The Twi'lek's dubious look immediately shifted into a satisfied expression.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," she said, grinning as she bit into the pastry.

"More than one, I hope," Kanan couldn't quite help putting in, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

"We'll see."

While the rest of the crew tucked into the hefty offering, Rex made his way back across the common area to present Alex with a readymade bottle for Arkalia.

"Thank you," he said after a few moments of blinking in confusion, taking the bottle in hand and offering it to Arkalia.

"No problem. Don't ask me how, but Hera actually managed to get Wookiee milk for the little nipper," the clone said, grinning as he watched Arkalia latch onto the bottle.

The difference was apparent immediately. In his experience, Arkalia was a good feeder, eating when she was hungry, but she took to this new bottle with gusto, actually gripping it in both hands as if she could hold it on her own. He had to struggle not to chuckle as he watched her drink.

"And adding to the fast growing list of things I never thought I'd see," Ezra began around a mouthful of food, "Agent Kallus, out of uniform and feeding a baby Lasat."

"Well, I promise you, you lot look no less strange to me in your sleepwear," Alex pointed out, recalling that he was, in fact, just down to his uniform pants and undershirt.

"Better get used to it. I have no intention of putting day clothes on today," Ezra declared with a self-satisfied grin. "It's about time we had a vacation."

"Vacation?" Alex asked, looking at Zeb with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," the Lasat responded once he'd finished chewing on a waffle. "We were due a bit of leave time after our last assignment, so we figured we'd make a trip of it to come get the little squeak. We're gonna hang around a few days before we head back, get everybody used to each other."

"You mean you're not...taking her directly to this safe place you were talking about?" he pressed, feeling strangely ambivalent about the whole issue, because on the one hand Arkalia would still be in danger, but on the other...he might not have to say goodbye to her just yet.

"She'll actually be comin' back to base with us for a bit. Hyperspace lanes shiftin', all that complicated pilot's jargon. Point bein' we need to wait for our chance. Could be a few months," Zeb explained, shrugging as his expression soured mildly, and Alex didn't know that he'd ever been so torn between fear and joy in all his life. "But for now, we'll all just get to know the little squeak."

"Heh. I'm almost- sorry I won't be around to see it," he returned quietly, having no trouble picturing Arkalia as part of the little family.

Zeb seemed to hesitate a moment before speaking again, and when he did, it was to tentatively ask, "Is there somethin' sayin' you can't be?"

For a moment, Alex could've sworn he felt his heart still a few beats. He'd be lying if he said the thought hadn't fleetingly crossed his mind – to take a little extra time in his hunt – to spend just a few more days with Arkalia...with Zeb...but...

"It- it's dangerous, Zeb," he found himself trying to argue. "It's so dangerous." He shouldn't be selfish like this. If he remained longer than necessary, it would be because of his own selfish need to be near the people he cared for, not because it benefited them in any way. He should leave...now...while he still could...to keep them safe.

"Come on, Alex," Zeb encouraged him, leaning in closer, the look in his eyes almost pleading. "What can a few days hurt? You need this. You know you do. Why won't you let yourself have it?"

At that, Alex closed the distance between them, letting their heads rest together for a moment. "I wish I could. Believe me, but I can't risk putting you in danger like that. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you...because of me."

"Don't I get a say in it at all?" Zeb breathed across the slip of air between them. "You think I can't handle myself?"

"That isn't it and you know it, Garazeb. Don't be like that," he chastised the Lasat. If Zeb wasn't going to be the reasonable one, he would have to be reasonable enough for both of them.

But Zeb soon sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat as he pulled back from him. "I know it's not. I just wish you didn't have to push yourself so hard. You're gonna burn out at this rate. Would- just one more day hurt anything?" he asked as he looked back up, the expression on his face a little more hopeful.

Alex smiled helplessly in turn, shaking his head. "I suppose not."

Zeb's smile immediately brightened at this. "All right. Then you'd better pass me the little squeak so you can get somethin' to eat."

He was just about to protest that he wasn't all that hungry when his traitorous stomach gave a particularly hollow-sounding growl. Arkalia released the bottle at this, her tiny body shaking with the trilled sound of her giggles.

"Traitors. Both of you," the former Imperial scolded them mildly, both his body and the kit. "There'll most certainly be disciplinary action," he said, smiling at Arkalia as he passed her over to Zeb, giving him time to wipe away a few dribbles of milk before passing over the bottle as well.

"Hey there, Kali," Zeb said softly as he offered her the bottle. "Still hungry? Precious as a light dove, you are."

Alex might have gone on watching them were it not for his own body reminding him that it needed attention. Heeding the empty growling, he fixed himself a small plate – some bacon, what looked like toast, and one of the meiloorun pasties everyone had been going on about. He quickly found them well worth going on about, thoroughly enjoying the citrusy, mildly sweet flavor of the fruit filling. Once the plate was empty, he couldn't keep himself from reaching for a second pastie. Zeb laughed as he watched him eat.

"We're not hurtin' for food stores right now. You can eat more. When was the last time you did eat?"

"Morning before...yesterday, I think," he answered honestly, despite the reprimanding look the Lasat gave him. "In my defense, there was a lot going on."

"Well, there's not a lot going on right now," Hera put in, quickly siding with Zeb by taking Alex's plate from him and filling it with second helpings of everything. He eyed the plate warily for a moment, uncertain if he should. Hera raised a brow at him in response. "You know, I'm not above giving Zeb permission to force feed you. He'd like it, too. Better take the offer while you've still got your dignity, Agent."

Gaze shifting between the pilot and the former guardsman, Alex raised his own eyebrow in response to the crooked smirk Zeb offered him.

"She's right. I would. Don't want the parents gettin' messy in front of the little squeak, now do we."

"Or the larger squeaks, for that matter," Sabine couldn't seem to resist adding, punctuating the words with a small chuckle.

Ultimately shrugging in defeat, Alex took the plate from the Ghost's captain, tucking into the offering with a pleased sigh.

"Don't forget, Zeb, you still have to burp her," Hera reminded him once Arkalia had finished with her bottle.

"Right. And...how does that work again?" Zeb asked, looking at his captain with a somewhat helpless expression on his face.

Hera sighed, shaking her head as she moved to retrieve a cloth, coming to drape it over Zeb's shoulder. "And once again, school is in session. Place the kit with her belly against your shoulder so she's aimed over the cloth."

Zeb quickly complied, clearly embarrassed to suddenly have everyone's attention on him as Hera coached him.

"Then you pat her lower back, not too rough, but not too light, either. You need to strike a balance between threading the laser wiring in your bo-rifle and actually gripping it in your hands."

Both Zeb and Alex raised their eyebrows as they glanced at Hera, with Zeb experimenting with the level of force she'd suggested.

"That's a- curiously specific analogy," Alex finally came out with.

Hera looked entirely too pleased with herself as she watched Zeb pat the infant's back. "Well? Was I right?"

Zeb was just about to offer up a retort when the baby shifted against him and the distinct sound of her spitting up reached his ear. Tilting his head marginally to the side, he stared off into the middle distance, freezing in his motions for only a moment before coming back with, "Well...you weren't wrong."

That got a laugh out of everyone. Setting his plate down for a moment, Alex moved in to use the cloth to wipe the remaining spit up from the kit's face. He attempted to slip her out of Zeb's grip, but the Lasat quickly waved him off, hurrying him back to his food. For the moment he was standing close to the two Lasat again, he caught a fresh whiff of Zeb's distinct scent. Almost immediately, a powerful wave of memory moved through him – of the first time he'd truly become aware of that scent.

Stars, how things had changed in only half a year.

X

The next time Kallus saw Garazeb Orrelios face to face, he had become a fully fledged Fulcrum agent. It was of interest to him how he'd spent so many years as an Imperial Security Bureau agent routing out dissension and had had so few successes in penetrating any sort of Rebel intelligence network, but now that he wanted in on that selfsame network and had no intention of exposing it ever...now it slid its doors open wide for him.

The moment came when he was investigating a security breach on Kegan. Rumors had been circling of a new insurgent cell growing in strength on the planet and the rumors had proven true when the clearly young and inexperienced members of this new cell attempted to blow up one of Kegan's Imperial outposts, only succeeding in getting themselves captured.

Despite his warning to Phoenix Squadron of the dangers of attempting a prison break, a mad, foolhardy rescue attempt by the Spectres was fast underway, so there was little doubt it would succeed. Kallus honestly wasn't certain if he was irked or maybe a little bit pleased to see Zeb battling it out with a squad of troopers on level 4.

Moving in under the pretext of aiding the squad, he flipped a switch and keyed in a code to send a slight overload of electricity through the corridor's ports and sockets, knocking the troopers unconscious, but only dropping Zeb to his knees, giving him a chance to shut down the corridor's security in the confusion. Zeb shot him a scathing look as he entered the space.

"You could'a killed me, y'know," he growled, trying to get back to his feet and failing.

"I really couldn't have," Kallus admonished as he moved in to help Zeb to his feet, catching a whiff of his distinct Lasat musk whilst helping him walk. "The thing about the Empire is that virtually everything is set to human standard. There's no way these ports could generate enough power to electrocute a Lasat. They would short out long before they reached that level of output," he explained while helping the Lasat limp to the wall, going to retrieve his bo-rifle as Zeb leaned against the slanted surface.

"Well, nice to know you think on your feet," Zeb said, his pained laugh turning into a cough as he accepted the weapon back. "Was that- supposed to be payback for last time?"

"Now why would I do that?" he returned with a tiny smirk. "You think much of yourself, Garazeb Orrelios, if you believe you have that much of an impact upon my life. It was simply the most expedient way of solving our problem."

"Well, if you...hold on. Our problem?" the Lasat repeated, something half-shocked and maybe a little bit – hopeful?– in his expression. "Are you sayin'-"

"By the light of Lothal's moons," Kallus responded, offering Zeb a small smile as he spoke. Zeb's expression shifted into a much wider smile as he looked at him.

"So you went and made the choice after all."

"I did."

"Guess you were lyin' before, then," the Lasat returned with a teasing smirk.

Kallus raised an eyebrow at him. "About what?"

"About how I don't have much of an impact on your life," he said, the smirk only continuing to deepen.

"All right, fine. You have me there," he conceded.

"Why didn't you say anythin'?" Zeb pressed him.

"I don't know. I suppose I didn't want you to think I was only doing it for approval or something cheap like that," he answered as he moved away from the former guardsman.

"Nah. You wouldn't do that," Zeb said, the sound of his voice moving closer telling Kallus he was following his retreat. Then he felt the Lasat's large hand clap down on his shoulder.

"How do you know that?" he couldn't stop himself from asking, though he still didn't look back at his one time enemy.

"Because one of my brothers on the Honor Guard acknowledged you as a superior warrior with his dying breath. I feel like you don't really understand what that means ," Zeb said, his grip on Kallus' shoulder tightening as he spun the agent to face him. "It's not about bein' a better fighter. The Boosahn Keeraw is about greatness of spirit, excellence of self. You might not see it in yourself right now, but even back then, even in Imperial uniform and half- brainwashed by them...even then, that guardsman saw those things in you...and I've been starting to see them ever since the ice moon. That's how I know I can trust you...how I know you're doin' this for the right reasons."

Standing there, pinned in place by the earnest intensity in Zeb's gaze, Kallus knew he didn't deserve such kindness – not from him. Not from Garazeb Orrelios. He could live a thousand years and never be worthy of that praise. And yet...he wanted to be. He also knew he was going to do whatever it took to be even one tenth of the man that guardsman had once seen in him. He wasn't that man. Not really. If he had been, he would have turned against the Empire the instant he'd seen what those ion disruptors could do. But now, standing here with Zeb, he knew he was going to do everything in his power to be the man the Lasat thought he was – to be worthy of everything Zeb had said about him.

"I'm...not sure I believe you yet," he said, glancing down at the floor as he lifted his own hand to rest it on top of Zeb's. "But thank you for that. I shall do my best to be worthy of the honor. For now, though, we had best get you caught up with your compatriots. Are you all right to walk?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he said, though he winced as he shifted to stand on his own. "Runnin' might be a bit of a stretch, but I should be able to get to where I'm goin'."

"Where are the others?"

"Don't rightly know. We got split up. Plan was to meet up with Ezra on level 6 to give Sabine and Chopper a chance to stir things up a bit."

"Just the children, then?" Kallus pressed as he led the way into one of the terminal rooms, making sure to shut down its security protocols before entering. Zeb moved in behind him as quickly as he was able. "I can't help but notice Jarrus hasn't been on any of your recent outings."

Zeb sighed as he followed him to a terminal. "Yeah, well...Kanan's still not got right with himself after Malachor. You heard what happened?"

"I'd heard Vader took on a group of rebels there, yes. And that...the previous Fulcrum died there as well," he answered as he seated himself at a console, accessing the terminal.

"I don't know all the details, but...Kanan got blinded in the fight. He still hasn't...figured himself out yet," Zeb returned, and when Kallus looked up at him, it was to see his ears drooping against his head in sorrow.

"I'm sorry," was all Kallus could think to say in response, and the corners of Zeb's mouth raised in a small, grateful smile.

"Thanks. I'll let him know Agent Kallus sends his regards."

"Might be better if you didn't, actually," Kallus reminded him as he tapped back into the security feed, searching for the younger Spectres. "The fewer people know my identity, the better."

If Zeb responded, Kallus didn't hear him, because he'd located Bridger – and part of him wished he hadn't.

The young Jedi was holding his own quite well against two squads of troopers, but as he fought, Kallus found himself seeing something he only thought he'd been seeing more and more in the young warrior's fighting style these last few months.

Rage.

Ezra Bridger had always fought fiercely for this cause he believed in, to protect his friends and to gain justice, but he'd never before displayed such open disregard for the lives of his opponents. Now, as Kallus watched the young apprentice slay trooper after trooper with a look of savage joy in his eyes, he felt something in his own heart twist in fear – fear for a boy who was clearly going down a path he himself had been on not all that long ago. The knowledge of Kanan Jarrus' fate only served to put all of Bridger's behavior into a much clearer light.

The boy was falling.

"Yeah, that's right, Ezra. Show 'em what's what," Zeb cheered him on as he watched, not seeming to see the same fight Kallus was watching.

"A word of advice," the former Imperial started in a deathly quiet tone, tearing his eyes away from Bridger to look up at Zeb only with great reluctance. "You watch him. "

"Wha-?" Zeb started in confusion as he looked down at him. Then his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Jarrus' injury has likely placed a lot of strain on Bridger. It's changed the way he fights. I'm sure you would see it if you took a moment to look. That boy is on a dark path."

Zeb shook his head. "No. No way. Not Ezra. You don't know him. You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Do I not?" he pressed, looking up at the Lasat with the weight of his own regrets in his eyes. "You think it doesn't happen? That I haven't watched it happen? That the best of intentions can't be twisted? Zeb, I'm asking you, as a friend, not to let him make my mistakes."

Zeb was just about to respond when a terrified scream sounded from the security feed, drawing both their gazes. Bridger was down to the very last trooper and the man had thrown his weapon to the ground, raising his hands in surrender as he dropped to his knees.

"No! Don't! Please!" the trooper begged, but his scream was cut off when the young Jedi raised his hand, an angry sneer spreading across his face.

After several moments, the trooper began to claw at his neck, clearly unable to scream or even breathe. Then those desperate hands slowly fell to his sides as he lost consciousness.

"Oh, no," Zeb breathed in horror, and before either of them could do anything, there came the hideous sound of the trooper's neck breaking. It wasn't until he'd slumped lifelessly to the floor that Bridger finally backed off, breathing heavily.

"Well, Spectre Four, level 6 is clear, no thanks to you. Where are you anyway?" Kallus watched the young Jedi report over the security feed.

"I...I'm on my way," Zeb answered haltingly. "I'll be there soon."

"Get a move on. We're running out of time here."

At first, they didn't look at each other, neither quite knowing what to say. But when the strained silence between them was finally broken, it was by Zeb.

"Thanks."

"For what?" he asked as he looked up at the former guardsman.

"Lookin' out for him. I don't think I would've ever seen it. Maybe I just...didn't want to," he said, ears flicking a few times before outright drooping.

"There is much I need to make up for," he said, briefly staring down at his own hands. "I could not bear to watch anyone else walk that path...not when I could do something about it."

"Well, you did," Zeb said as he moved to one knee beside him, laying a single large hand over his much smaller ones. "So thanks."

With the Lasat suddenly in such close proximity to him, Kallus found himself again breathing in that particular scent that was just so uniquely Zeb. He recalled some of the other troopers commenting on how they all thought it was a disgusting scent – how they'd all been near to gagging whenever they'd faced the Lasat in combat. Interestingly enough, thinking about it now, he found he'd never had a problem with it. There was something in the musky scent he found almost...pleasant. Maybe even a little bit...enticing?

And it was that thought that caused the agent to shudder faintly, backing away from it before it could burrow its way too deeply into his thoughts. Those were notions he could trouble neither himself nor the former guardsman with. They were beyond impossible. Even if they weren't, this was neither the time nor the place. Garazeb Orrelios was his friend.

Nothing more.

Even so, he couldn't quite help wanting to be closer to him. So, for just a moment, he leaned in closer to the Lasat, their foreheads little more than an inch apart as he shifted his hands beneath Zeb's, allowing them to rest palm to palm for a moment.

"You should go," he said softly. "They need you."

"Kal..."

"Kal?" the agent repeated as he pulled back from the Lasat. "Where did that one come from?"

"Eh...Kallus just feels wrong to me somehow. So does Alexsandr. And I don't think we're at a point where I can call you Alex. So Kal it is," he returned with a fresh teasing grin.

"Heh, Kal," he tried it out again, finding that there was something in it he very much enjoyed. "I like it."

"Okay. Kal."

"You really do need to get going, though," Kallus pointed out as he pulled completely back from the former guardsman. "Things will be getting very interesting soon."

"Right."

"If you take the service lift up to level 6 instead of the main one, you will find your way unimpeded. I will do what I can from here, but you won't have very long. Go," he said, nodding one final time before tapping back into the terminal, preparing to help covertly cover his escape.

"We gotta stop meetin' like this, Kal," Zeb said, shrugging as he moved backwards out of the room. Kallus stole a single glance up at the former guardsman with a tiny, exasperated smile playing about his lips.

"I hope we never do."

"Until next time, then."

"Next time."

XxX

Alex shivered as he exited his shuttle, in spite of the heat of the late afternoon sun. Despite the decision to stay an extra day, he did still have to maintain appearances for his masters. So he'd delivered a false report detailing his pursuit of the Spectres on Alluvium. They'd had no reason to question him, of course, so the report had gone through smoothly enough. He'd gotten very good at lying these last few months.

He was beyond relieved to once again shed the uniform he'd gotten back into to make his report. Though he brought his civilian clothing with him when he left the shuttle this time, it was easy enough to pretend he was completely out of uniform when dressed in just the pants, boots, and undershirt. Tossing the stripped uniform and the rest of the clothing onto his speeder, he wasted no time in getting back to the Ghost, where the rebel cell's little vacation was already in full swing.

Ezra, Sabine, and Chopper were all occupied with Arkalia, having managed to rig up an actual little swing for her, though the swing was more like a kind of cradleboard than anything else, since she couldn't fully sit up on her own yet. Alex half-wanted to retrieve the little Lasat from the cobbled together contraption just hanging from the Ghost's hull, as it looked horribly dangerous to every sensibility he had; but when he saw how much the baby girl was enjoying the swing, laughing and cooing and waving her little legs in the air, he couldn't bring himself to step in. The two young Spectres had her well secured, and if they'd kept each other alive this long, they could keep a baby safe for ten minutes.

Hera had Zeb and Rex doing some heavy lifting while she performed some inspection checks on the ship's hull, but before Alex could move in to offer his help, he was suddenly waylaid by Kanan.

"Hey there, Kallus. Got a minute?" the Jedi asked, resting a firm hand on his shoulder.

"O- of course," he said, barely getting the words out before Kanan was leading him around to the back of the ship.

"So how are you holding up?" the knight asked him once they were out of earshot of the others.

Alex stared at him uncertainly a moment before responding. "Fine. No different from earlier. Why do you ask?"

Kanan didn't face him at first. For a time, all he did was face in the direction of the slowly sinking sun. By the time he did speak, Alex was really starting to wonder if he actually had anything to say.

"How much do you actually know about Jedi?" Kanan asked him.

"Well...aside from your advanced combat skills, your uncanny ability to move things you shouldn't be able to, and your mind tricks...not much, I suppose," he conceded. "Why do you ask?"

"And do you know much about the Force?" Kanan asked instead of answering the question.

"Again, not much. As I understand it, it was part of the religion of the old order."

Kanan shook his head, lips twisting in a wry expression as he turned his head partly in Alex's direction. "Come on, Agent Kallus. Don't give me the Imperial rhetoric. You've felt its effects before. You know it's real."

"Granted," he returned with an uncomfortable sigh. "I suppose I'm just failing to see what it is you actually want from me right now."

"It's not about what I want, though we are coming to that. I just want you to understand my full meaning when I explain some of the things I'm about to tell you, and the most basic explanation of the Force I can give you is that it's the energy that connects all living things. Jedi are attuned to that energy and that's why we can do the things we can, influence mind and matter and the like."

"All right," Alex prompted the Jedi when he didn't continue, and again, the man smirked at his impatience.

"The point I'm coming to being that, since we're attuned to other living creatures, did you know that a Jedi can sense what you're feeling?" he asked as he slipped his mask off, sightless eyes pointed directly at Alex's, as if he could still see him.

"Oh," was all the former Imperial could manage in response to that revelation, recalling how unerringly the knight's attention had seemed to be focused on him these past twenty-four hours. It wasn't just a slip of insight or intuition on Kanan's part. He could actually feel whatever it was Alex was broadcasting into the aether, or however it was all that metaphysical stuff worked.

"Yeah. You've got some pretty ugly things churning behind that Imperial facade. Some things it just might be dangerous for you to be carrying back to the Empire when you have to go back to them."

"Then...I suppose I shall just have to do my best to master myself before I return," he said, not completely certain how he was going to accomplish that. All he'd ever really done was push all the ugliness down to a place deep inside him where it couldn't affect him, but he supposed some tiny part of him had always known he couldn't do that forever. Something would have to give eventually, and now that it was beginning to, he didn't think he was prepared for it.

"Yeah, that's not really what I was aiming for. I'm not so much concerned with your Fulcrum work, but if that's how I need to put it to get through to you, I will. What do you think will happen to you if you go back to the Empire like this?"

"It doesn't- matter what will happen to me," Kallus snapped at him. "I have a responsibility. I can't abandon my duty now. I can't. This is...all I have to give," he tried to explain.

Kanan raised both eyebrows at this. "Doesn't matter? Better not let Zeb hear you talking like that or he'll beat you himself."

"And I would be glad of it if he chose to. If anyone has the right to bash my skull in, he does."

"Oh, boy. Kallus, he would never do that, he- you're important to him. He thinks the galaxy of you. You matter. What do you mean this is all you have to give?" the Jedi pressed.

Kallus gave a pained sigh at this, turning away from the knight's fierce non-gaze. "I cannot...undo what has been done. I cannot wipe out the past. Nothing I can do can change the fact that Zeb and Arkalia have no home because of me. My service as Fulcrum is the only thing I have to give to them, the only promise I can make that the galaxy will be better someday. I cannot- abandon it now," he finished with a heavy swallow, refusing to allow his emotions to show through anymore than that. The fact that Kanan could probably sense them anyway mattered little. It was how he kept himself from falling apart.

"I'm not saying you should," Kanan started as he moved a few steps closer. "I'm just saying you should get your head on straight before you go back. Otherwise you're going to wind up dead and no good to anybody. Zeb least of all."

"But he-"

"He needs you, Alexsandr. I don't think you get that," the Jedi fired back. "He needs you alive. If you kriff this up, if you get yourself killed, if you hurt him in any way...I'm liable to drag you back from the dead just so I can kill you myself," Kanan informed him, the low growl in his voice nearly a match for Zeb's.

"I...I'm sorry?" was all he could get himself to ask in the face of the knight's frustration.

Kanan tilted his head back as he crossed his arms over his chest, laughing quietly at himself. "Well, I guess this is the part where I tell you that if you hurt him, I'll end you. Zeb's more than just my best friend. He's family, and I'd be remiss in my role in all this if I didn't at least try to give you the shovel talk, but really, that's pretty far behind us at this point."

"I swear to you, Kanan, I could never do anything to hurt him. I...Zeb means too much to me...for me to ever allow that," he promised.

"No, I get that you'd never hurt him intentionally. I know that now. A blind man could see what you mean to each other," he joked with a small smile, but that smile soon became serious again. "But what about the things you can't control? If you go back there and you get yourself killed...what do you think it would do to him?"

At that thought, the former ISB agent felt something inside of him twist in fresh guilt and growing anguish. If Zeb cared about him the same way he cared about Zeb...

"It would destroy him," he said quietly, gaze going distant as the revelation washed through him.

"Now you're getting it," the Jedi returned in a quiet, steady voice, moving toward him to once again place a hand on his shoulder. "Zeb's lost everyone he's ever loved in his life...everyone except us here on this little world. I know you feel responsible for those losses, but you need to build a kriffing bridge, because he can't lose you, too. If you can't live for yourself, for the Rebellion, then I'm begging you...do it for him."

For several moments, Alex just stood still, breathing in and out, not allowing himself to think of anything but Zeb's smile. He couldn't let any harm come to that smile. He wouldn't.

"Yes. You are right," he said slowly. "I had not- considered it in that light."

"Most people don't. I'm not asking you to defect outright. I'm just asking you to stay with us for a few days, take some time for yourself...maybe talk to Zeb about some of this. You can make something up for your superiors. If need be, we could even hold you hostage," he suggested with a crooked grin.

Alex gave a pained laugh at that, shaking his head. "While I- appreciate the sentiment, ISB would never negotiate with you. It's against their policy. Besides, you Spectres could never hope to hold me. If anything, I'm going to escape your grasp," he tried to joke, not sure how well he succeeded, but Kanan at least had the decency to pretend for him.

"We'll see about that. Come on. Let's get back. Rex and Hera'll be starting in on dinner before too long," he said, beginning to lead the way back around the Ghost.

By the time they rejoined the rest of the crew, Arkalia had fallen asleep. Ezra had removed her from the swing and was rocking her gently in his own arms. He was starting to look like he was just getting comfortable with her when the kit bolted up from her nap with a distressed screech, arms flailing wildly in the air. Almost immediately, Ezra began to panic.

"What- what is it? What did I do wrong?"

"Ahgh, what'd you do now?" Zeb demanded as he moved over to the kids.

"Sabine, help," the young Jedi pleaded.

Calm as ever, Sabine leaned across to have a sniff, and a crafty smile quickly spread across her face.

"Good news, Ezra. The next phase of your training has arrived."

"W- what do you mean?"

"The time has come, Ezra Bridger, for you to learn how to change a diaper."

"Oh...karabast," the padawan murmured in clear terror. As Sabine hustled him to his feet, he turned desperate eyes to his master. "Help me, Kanan."

"Afraid not, Ezra. We've all got to go sometime," the blind knight said with a small laugh as Ezra was dragged back aboard the Ghost.

"We've all got to go sometime?" Hera repeated with an amused chuckle of her own as Kanan and Alex came to join her, Rex, and Zeb. "Does that sentiment apply to you, mighty Jedi? Or do you have some hidden childcare knowledge I'm unaware of?"

"I am a deep well, Captain Syndulla," the Jedi said as the pair of them sat down together. "There is much you don't know about me."

"Yeah, you've never even touched a diaper before, have you."

"Nope."

"Hey," Zeb greeted Alex as he rejoined them, but the smile on his face twinged minutely when he noticed he was still a little shaken. "Everythin' all right?"

Continuing to keep his breathing even, Alex cast his gaze around the small circle of beings. Hera and Kanan, Rex, the sounds of Ezra's cries for mercy from the ship...and Zeb. Among all of them, Zeb.

"It will be," he responded softly, hoping it was true. He couldn't quite help smiling as the Lasat came to him and draped an arm around his shoulders. As he leaned his head against Zeb's, he sighed in contentment, feeling at peace – even if it was only for a moment.

It will be.

Chapter Text

In spite of the fact that the Spectres had essentially thrown Alex a welcome breakfast, they still insisted on having the welcome dinner they'd been putting together when he'd fallen asleep the previous night.

"And you'd better stay awake this time," Ezra scolded him as Hera and Rex prepared everything, cooking with the power of the portable generator they'd brought from the Ghost. "All we got last night thanks to that little stunt were ration bars."

"Then I shall do my best not to work myself to within an inch of my life in the next half hour," he returned in response to Ezra's teasing tone.

"Good, 'cuz if you working yourself to death leads to me not eating, we're gonna have problems," Ezra fired back, a spark of amusement lurking beneath the mock-serious expression on his face.

"Glad to know you have your priorities in order," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm on it. I'm sharp. Nobody gets to work themselves to death on this ship," Ezra said with a stiff nod and the same mock straight face.

Sabine brought out the entertainment for the night when she brought Arkalia's bottle down from the ship, passing the bottle to Alex as she pulled out a holo-capture, going around and taking images of everyone – Rex and Hera cooking, Chopper chasing Ezra around with his electrified manipulator, Alex feeding Arkalia, Hera and Kanan sitting together, and the moment after when Kanan stole a kiss, Ezra and Zeb arguing over the last bantha tenderloin, Rex stealing it for himself, Zeb actually feeding Alex while he continued to feed Arkalia, Chopper briefly running away with the kit so Alex would properly eat, Arkalia's wild and exciting ride with Chopper, Zeb retrieving her when Alex was driven near to distraction, several images of Alex holding Arkalia while Zeb held them both, even one image where she got them all together as a group.

"You'll send me some of those later, won't you?" Alex asked the young Mandalorian. "I think...I would like to have some of them...for when I return."

"No problem. That's actually kinda why I did it," she explained, finally shutting the capture down so she could finish the last of her meal. "Thought you might like to have something to keep with you."

"Oh. Thank you," he said quietly as he looked down at Arkalia, fed and freshly changed, but still cranky for some reason. He felt like the smile on his face could only be described as helpless. He really just wasn't used to this level of kindness, which was why he needed to tell himself it wasn't weakness when he leaned a little further into Zeb's embrace, the Lasat wrapping his arm a little more firmly around his shoulders as he reached down to stroke behind the agitated kit's ears.

"Aw, Kali, you're just like this one, aren't you," Zeb teased the little girl, smiling sideways at Alex. "Won't sleep even if you're tired."

"Well, perhaps she has a good reason to stay awake," the former Imperial sniffed, though he was still smiling himself.

"Like what?"

"Well...she hasn't had her song yet," he noted thoughtfully as he lifted the baby to rest against his chest, wondering if it was only the one song she enjoyed or if she maybe liked singing in general. Could he test that theory? He really didn't know all that many songs. That sort of behavior had never been encouraged by the Empire. But there was one he found himself half remembering – he didn't know where from. Not likely the academy. More probably from his days as a ward of the state, back in the days of the dying Republic. Or could it have been from before that, even? Back before he'd been surrendered? Did he actually remember anything from that far back?

Doesn't matter, he concluded. All it meant now was that he might have a new song for Arkalia, or part of one, at least. So, joining Zeb in stroking her head, he began to sing what he could remember.

Now I know you're safe here in my heart

You will always be with me

We'll never be apart

Love survives beyond our lives

I feel those times growing stronger

Love survives the tears we cry

Yes, love survives it all

Love survives it all

Alex sang the broken refrain through a few times, pleased to see Arkalia settling down until, at last, she yawned and fell asleep against his chest. For several moments, he was aware of nothing but the sleeping kit in his arms and Zeb's arms around them both. When he was finally drawn out of their little sphere, it was by Hera's gentle voice.

"You wouldn't know it to look at you, but you've actually got a half decent voice. Probably just out of practice."

"Don't suppose the Empire condones that sort of thing," Rex put in.

"Not really, no. I'm not entirely certain where I heard the song. That isn't even the whole of it. I just wondered if her mother's lullaby was the only song she liked," he answered softly, still looking down at Arkalia.

"Well, mystery solved. Guess she just likes bein' sung to," Zeb said, leaning in to nuzzle at Alex's temple. "Gonna have to brush up on our singin'."

"Hmm. The Ghost choir of Lothal. Has a certain ring to it," Kanan said with a nod.

As the group began to debate the merits of teaching Chopper to harmonize, Zeb was suddenly whispering in his ear, "Yeah, this lot'll be at this for a while. We should probably get this little princess to bed before they wake her. I think you could do with more sleep, too."

Alex nodded his agreement, rising carefully from his seat along with Zeb. Nodding their goodnights to the other Spectres, they made their way back aboard the Ghost, heading toward Sabine's open quarters. The collapsible changing table had been put away, but the space was still occupied by another collapsible piece of furniture – a crib for the baby girl. When Alex laid her down in it, she shifted a few times before finally settling down to sleep.

"And she'll- be all right on her own? Until Sabine comes to bed?" Alex asked, glancing back over his shoulder as Zeb led him from the room.

"Sure. Nothin's gonna happen to her on board the Ghost. Besides, if she does wake, I'm pretty sure we'd be able to hear her from our bunk anyway."

Alex found himself once again blushing mildly at the use of the word 'our'. He'd been doing that a lot these last few days, blushing.

"And...will we both fit in that bunk?" he asked as he was led into the small room, the question the least awkward way he could think of to ask if they would be sharing the bed this time. For several moments, the only response he received was the Lasat's pleased purring.

"Gonna be really cozy, but I think we can make it work. We've done with less, you 'n me," he said, smiling warmly as he looked down at the former Imperial.

Alex gave an answering smile of his own, but also felt something both joyous and painful twist within his heart at the open adoration in the Lasat's eyes. Had he ever wept from sheer joy before? He didn't think so, and hopefully he wasn't going to start now. Instead he leaned in to press his forehead against Zeb's once more.

"We have at that," he said softly, voice just on the verge of breaking. "And I'm so happy we did."

"Alex," Zeb sighed in bliss, the purr from earlier returning briefly as he pulled Alex into a kiss.

For several minutes, all either of them could seem to manage was to stand there, languishing in the kiss and the feel of just holding each other. When Zeb managed to pull away long enough to press a kiss to the juncture of his jaw and neck, Alex gave a sharp gasp at the velvety warm feel of his lips against the bare skin. At the sound, the Lasat actually shuddered against him.

"Aw, Karabast," the former guardsman muttered in only partly faked annoyance. "If you keep makin' sounds like that, we aren't gonna be doin' much sleepin' tonight. Wouldn't really be fair to the kid. Which side do you want? Edge of the bunk or up against the wall?"

Alex had to wonder if Zeb was aware of what he'd said, because literally no part of him would have objected to being up against the wall where Zeb was concerned. It took every last ounce of self control he possessed not to say as much. It would, indeed, not have been fair to Ezra. So he instead went with a more practical approach in an attempt to walk his thoughts back from that almost inevitable direction.

"I think- I would prefer the wall," he said with a small nod. "I'd like to be between that and you."

"Your wish is my command," the Lasat said with a light chuckle, sweeping an arm toward the bunk. "After you, ni alitha," he finished, voice briefly switching to the more purred, rolling tones of Lasana.

"What does that mean?" Alex couldn't quite keep himself from asking as he followed Zeb's lead, kicking off his boots before crawling onto the bed.

"Ah," Zeb started, ears twitching anxiously as he scratched at the back of his head. If Alex was interpreting the darkening of his cheeks correctly, he might've actually been blushing. "It's- not got an exact translation. Its literal meanin' in Basic is 'my sparring partner', but that means somethin' different in Lasana. Precious...darlin'...sweet," he offered up helplessly. "I guess it's like sayin' 'you're the only one I want to spar with'. Y'know, foolish pet names. It- it was silly," he said, shrugging as he sat down on the bunk beside Alex.

The former Imperial had thought his smile couldn't grow wider, but Garazeb Orrelios had proved him wrong yet again with that one. Reaching forward to cup the Lasat's cheek in his hand, he brushed a thumb along the heated skin. "In no way was it silly, Zeb...ni alitha," he tried the words out, and whether he'd said them right or not, the near-stricken smile on Zeb's face was worth it. "How did I do?"

"Pretty good. That th in the middle's a bit harder, but you almost got it."

"Then I'll just have to keep saying it until it's perfect...ni alitha," he tried again, smiling as he leaned in for another kiss. He felt something in his heart melt a little at the way Zeb's lips shifted into a smile against his.

"Beautiful," the Lasat warrior said softly as he pulled back from him, and in Alex's experience, it was not a word he used often. He would have to treasure it for what it was.

"Ni alitha," he said again as they lay down together. "My darling."

My beloved.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that he could be the cause of such a look in Zeb's eyes – like he was the happiest he'd ever been, but that he might've also been about to burst into tears. Reaching across the minimal space between them to cup Alex's face in his hands, he nuzzled up as close to him as he could get without actually initiating a new kiss.

"Ashla, but I could look into those eyes all night, but you need your rest. We'd better do this back-to-chest."

Alex actually laughed at that one, beginning to shift so that he was lying facing the wall while being careful not to knock Zeb from the bed. "Whatever you need to do to sleep."

"Oh, I dunno that I'll sleep. Mostly, I just wanna lie here and hold you," Zeb said as he draped an arm across Alex's middle in order to cradle him securely against his chest. "But you do need to sleep."

"Zeb, I really hope that's just you being a romantic fool and not actually threatening to lose sleep over me," the former Imperial called over his shoulder as he reached his opposite hand up to entwine his fingers with Zeb's.

"Guess we'll find out in the mornin'," the Lasat said with a yawn.

"Zeb-" he started in warningly.

"G'night," Zeb called in a sing-song sort of voice to let Alex know he was done talking about it. Sighing, he closed his eyes and cuddled a little closer against the Lasat's chest, briefly squeezing his hand just a little tighter. The Fulcrum agent felt the returned pressure of those thick, strong fingers against his for only a moment before his still-battered body finally began to catch up with him, flipping a switch in his brain and overwhelming him with exhaustion.

"Good night, Zeb," he whispered as he drifted off, half-wondering if it was all going to prove to be a dream, if he might just wake up back aboard the Lawbringer. After all, how could it be real? Any of this? He couldn't remember a time when he'd been this happy...didn't think he'd ever been, if he were honest with himself. How could it last?

How was he going to make himself go back when it was over?

XxX

When Sabine woke early the next morning, it was to the sound of Arkalia's cranky whimpers. The kit wasn't all the way awake yet, but she would be soon.

"Better head that one off at the pass," the teenaged artist said to herself as she climbed down from her bunk, going to the cradle to first make sure Arkalia didn't need changing. When that turned out not to be the case, she headed out of the room, making her way to the galley while yawning nearly every step of the way.

Grabbing herself one of the meiloorun pasties from the refrigeration unit, she went about preparing the little Lasat's bottle while she munched on her own impromptu breakfast.

Who'd have thought it, she found herself thinking as she parsed out the proper serving of milk from one of the thermals. Before long, we're going to have some kind of miniature Zeb running around.

But then, there were a lot of things a sane being wouldn't have thought just a few months back. Zeb and Kallus, for one. She didn't think she was ever going to forget the tiny, secretive smile that had lit the Lasat's face after she'd delivered the ISB agent's message after the Skystrike mission.

"Tell Garazeb Orrelios...we are even. But I do still expect that rematch," the agent had said with a small, reticent smile of his own.

It was only after that admittedly bizarre exchange that she'd started to pay more attention to their interactions with each other, and had started to see what she'd missed before – what would've been so blatantly obvious to anyone who'd actually been paying attention.

Somehow, in spite of everything, the two men had started to fall for each other. And now they were finally getting to see the blooming of those seeds that had been planted who could say how long ago. If enemies like Zeb and Kallus could learn to see past their differences to find someone worth caring for...hell...maybe anyone could manage it. Maybe there was hope for the galaxy after all?

"Mornin', Sabine," she heard Rex call to her just as she was finishing up the bottle.

"Hey, Rex."

"Not used to seein' you out and about quite this early."

"Better get used to it. We'll all be keeping some pretty odd hours these next couple months."

"I believe it. Little Miss Kali awake then?"

"Not just yet, but she's going to be. Very soon."

"Best get back to her then. Can't have the little nipper makin' a ruckus too early. Let me know if you ever need a break, though. I'm always right here," the clone reminded her as he went about preparing the morning caf.

Something in his voice, though she couldn't guess what, caused the young Mandalorian to look back at the clone captain. He didn't look any different, just his usual mostly-cheery self as he went about his typical morning routine, but it seemed to her she'd been noticing a lot more things ever since she'd picked up on Zeb and Kallus. In this case, it was the fact that Rex had seemed to have moments like this a lot since the whole Arkalia business had started – like there was something just beneath the surface he was afraid of letting others see.

"Cuyir gar an staabi?" she asked him.

Are you all right?

Even though she knew he spoke Mando'a, she didn't often do it with him for reasons even she couldn't quite figure out. It was his surprise at her use of their birth language, more than anything, that probably jolted him into answering truthfully.

"Lek," he answered simply, but then sighed before giving her a proper answer. "Ni cuyir ti ner cyar'ika...ner Ahsoka. Ni...Ni shi...Ni echoylir par kaysh," he said, briefly squeezing his eyes shut before turning away from her, attempting to go back to what he'd been doing.

Ah. So that was it. He was missing Ahsoka. They had all known there had been something between the clone captain and his Jedi commander, but neither had exactly been forthcoming about what that something was. Rex wouldn't talk about Ahsoka after her death, and this was the first time Sabine had heard him refer to her as cyar'ika – beloved. The fact that he'd told her this in Mando'a also spoke to the depths of his grief, even if it wasn't visible on the surface. Grief was sometimes difficult to express in their warrior's mother tongue.

"I'm sorry," she said, switching back to Basic to relieve him of the immediacy and the intensity of his grief. "I didn't know."

Rex managed a small, pained laugh at that, quickly wiping the bright shine of tears from his eyes. "That was sorta the idea. We never wanted to muddy things up...with the Rebellion and everything. Heh...oh, Ahsoka...what would she say if she could see me like this?" he wondered as he glanced down at his hands, which had begun to tremble just a little before he'd mastered himself, clenching them into fists.

"I don't know that...not really," she said as she moved back toward the captain, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I think she might say that...she's proud of you...and...that she misses you, too."

Rex tensed beneath her touch from the first, but just as he was beginning to relax, he heard her words and a tiny, choked sound escaped his throat. As he was facing away from her, Sabine couldn't see what his actual response was, but when he spoke again, it was in a mostly steady voice.

"Vor entye, Sabine Wren," he said formally, briefly resting a hand on top of hers, expressing the depth of his gratitude through the subtlety of their birth tongue. When he turned back to her, all signs of his near breakdown had been smoothed from his face. "It may not seem like much, but it helps. She would'a loved this, though...seein' that little nipper find herself a family. Better get back to her while you still can," he finished with a nod.

"Right," she started as she moved a few steps back. "Rex?"

"Hmm?" he asked, looking back up at her.

"You know we're- here...if you ever need to talk."

"Yeah, I know," he said, waving her off. "Go on. You've got more important things to take care of."

He wouldn't, Sabine found herself thinking as she headed out of the galley. Not for one moment did she think Rex would ever actually want to talk. He was just as hard-headed as any son of Mandalore. More so, really. But maybe if they could get Kallus to open up, they might also have a little success with Rex, too. Sabine grinned as she approached her bunk, feeling the familiar flare of inspiration as it coiled in her chest, firing out to her fingers with a hunger to be expressed. Arkalia was just letting out her first demands for attention as Sabine entered the room, clearly not pleased with having been left alone.

"I know. I know. Good morning to you, too, little loth cat," Sabine said as she crossed the room, quickly lifting the baby Lasat from her cradle and plopping the bottle in her mouth. Arkalia latched on immediately, first with both hands, then with both feet. Sabine laughed as she watched. "Let's not wake everybody up too early this morning, yeah?" she teased, leaning down to nuzzle the little girl's ear as she fed.

While Arkalia guzzled contentedly at her bottle, ideas were sweeping through Sabine's head faster than she could seem to commit them to memory. Just as soon as the kit was taken care of, the paint was coming out.

"What do you say, baby girl? It's early yet. Wanna spend the morning painting with your Aunt Sabine?" she asked when Arkalia had finally given up on the bottle, jerking her head away with a messy few dribbles of milk and a very happy trill. Logically, she knew the kit couldn't understand what she was saying but, as an artist, Sabine Wren had always erred on the side of utterly screwing logic. Nobody could tell her her new charge wasn't just as excited as she was about getting to paint. So, laying her out comfortably on a blanket spread over her floor, Sabine retrieved her supplies, spreading everything out and talking aimlessly while listening to Arkalia trill and coo.

"First things first, we're gonna paint all your stuff. It all looks so boring. We can't have that," Sabine chided, as if it were somehow someone's fault that the universe lacked artistic vision. "What do you think? Dejarik pattern for the crate?" she asked, waving a paintbrush dripping with white paint over the little kit's head. Arkalia reached for the brush with a smile, but Sabine quickly snatched it away, leaving a few drops of the white pigment on her arm.

"Ah-la. Ah-la," she babbled tunefully, continuing to reach out. Between brushes dripping with paint and a few other toys, Sabine managed to keep the little girl occupied while she worked. The storage crate was soon just as dejariked as many other things in her quarters.

"And for the changing table, I think we're gonna go nova-style coloring," she commented as she unfolded the table, priming it to cover the surface in the colors of an exploding star. By the time it was finished, the baby had several artfully placed streaks of orange, green, and blue paint in her fur. But when Sabine attempted to pull the brush back again, Arkalia actually reached out with her foot, toes curling to trap her wrist before she could retreat.

"Crafty little girl," Sabine complimented her, carefully disentangling herself from the strong grip of the baby's prehensile foot. "We'll make a rebel out of you yet," she said before painting a tiny smattering of pink dots across the bottom of her foot, drawing a delighted squeal from her.

"Then there's the crib," she continued, not completely certain what she wanted to do as she stared at the plain plastoid frame. Arkalia just purred, foot reaching out for a stuffed loth cat toy and retrieving it with a triumphant smile.

"Y'know, my father put a modified jaig pattern on the cradle my brother and I slept in. You don't strike me as the jaig type, though," she said absently as she dipped her brush into an open container of royal purple paint, swirling the brush through the thick substance as she let herself mull, hoping for an idea to come to her. When Arkalia caught her attention again, though, it was because she'd rolled over on her blanket, whining insistently as she stretched her hands toward the container.

Huh. That was something. Sabine vaguely recalled reading somewhere that Wookiee pups could roll over on their own at five months, so maybe it was the same with Lasat kits. It would definitely give them a better estimate for her age. Smiling at the little girl, she reached her dripping brush forward and painted the palms of her hands, initiating a new round of excited trilling.

"Heheh, I can tell you're going to be trouble, Miss Ari," Sabine scolded, unable to help her smile. "Tristan used to get into my paints, too...if I didn't watch him. But I guess he's the reason you've got such a good babysitter now," she told the kit, her mind wandering for several moments as her thoughts drifted back to her brother. How many years had it been since she'd seen him? Had he gotten taller? Did he still think about his big sister?

Slowly shaking off the thoughts that could bring her nothing but pain, Sabine refocused her attention on Arkalia just in time to watch her press her tiny painted hands against her blanket, leaving a series of adorable little four-fingered handprints scattered along the white fabric.

Sabine laughed as she watched the kit roll over again, trilling happily. "Okay, maybe white wasn't the best choice," she conceded, relieved that Hera had at least let her get the baby-safe paint set. Arkalia could swallow a jar of the stuff and it wouldn't matter.

Except...looking at the messy crawl of the kit's tiny handprints across the blanket, the young artist was suddenly struck with an image of the exact design she wanted. She knew how she was going to paint the cradle. Immediately mixing herself a lighter shade of purple, she set to work painting the base coat.

She worked tirelessly on her new piece for about an hour or so before deciding it was ready for the finishing touches.

"Ready to help me out one more time, Ari?" she asked as she scooped up the baby girl, lifting her brush one last time to paint the kit's hands. Then she carried her to the cradle, showing her the main body of it that had been painted to match the patterning of Zeb's fur. Recognizing it, Arkalia cooed eagerly and reached out her hands for it, placing them directly on the front of the bassinet and leaving a pair of dark purple hand prints behind when Sabine swiftly whisked her away.

"Geh, geh, geh!" the kit protested, continuing to reach out for the familiar patterns on the cradle.

"Geh? I know, everyone's a critic," Sabine said with a small laugh as she resettled the baby in her arms, making sure she was sitting comfortably on one arm while holding her against her chest with the other.

"Hey, Sabine? You awake?" Ezra's voice suddenly sounded from the other side of the door.

"Yeah. Come on in," she called back. When the door slid open with its usual mechanical hiss, it was to admit the Jedi padawan with a fresh bottle and a plate of toast.

"Sorry to barge in. It's just getting a little past breakfast. Rex mentioned you were in earlier, but I figured you might still be hungry if you were working on something new."

"Oh, wow. Thanks," she said, eyeing the plate hungrily for a moment before offering Arkalia to Ezra. "Think you can take her?"

Ezra looked worried for a moment, but he ultimately smiled down at the kit and nodded. "Sure. No problem. Hey, kitten. You're just a complete mess, aren't you," he teased as he swapped the plate he was carrying for the baby.

"Guess so, but she sure had fun doing it," Sabine said as she shoved a whole piece of toast in her mouth.

"What about you? You hungry?" Ezra asked as he tried to offer her the bottle, which Arkalia flatly refused, reaching her hands back toward the cradle instead. When Ezra finally realized what it was he was looking at on the cradle, he may or may not have felt his heart melt a little. "Sabine, is...is that..."

"Yup. Just finished," she declared proudly.

"Okay, what's going on back here?" Kanan's voice suddenly interrupted as he, Hera, and Rex appeared in the doorway. "That mental squeak was loud enough to trip sensors."

"You have a mental squeak?" Sabine asked Ezra, raising an amused eyebrow at him.

"What do you want? That's adorable," the young Jedi exclaimed in exasperation. "I reserve the right to squeak as much as I want and not be thought any less manly for it."

"Not sure how the words 'manly' and 'squeak' manage to wind up in the same sentence, but this is Ezra we're talkin' about here," Zeb added, he and Kallus making an appearance not far behind, but then he actually caught a glimpse of what Ezra was looking at. "Oh...oh..."

"This...this truly is beautiful, Sabine," Hera complimented.

"Does- someone feel up to explaining to the blind guy what we're all looking at?" Kanan finally asked, shrugging helplessly

"Absolutely," Sabine started in excitement, coming forward to lead the knight over to the cradle, even though it wasn't strictly necessary. "I painted Arkalia's cradle with something from each of us. Here," she began to explain, taking his hand and guiding it over the lines of the freshly dried paint. "The main body of the cradle's painted to look like Zeb's fur. I painted the support struts to look like Chopper's treads. And then up here, beside the first carrier handle, I painted my starbird. Over on the other side is a loth cat for Ezra. Then up on the shell part of the bassinet, I painted the patterns on Hera's lekku around the frame, and around the back of it, I've got a chevron pattern like on Ahsoka's lekku. Then up at the top of the shell, I've got two echoed pairs of jaig eyes, green for you and blue for Rex. Right up front are Arkalia's handprints, but I wouldn't touch those just yet. They're not completely dry."

"The whole family," Kanan said quietly, running his fingers first over the lines of the jaig eyes, then down onto the pattern of Hera's lekku.

"Hey, Sabine?" Zeb suddenly asked her. "You didn't manage to get anything from Alex in there, did you?"

"Of course I did. What? Did you think I was going to leave you out? Come here," she said, waving the former Imperial over. "You're the star attraction, Kallus."

"I...I'm afraid I don't see what you-" he started as he moved closer, but was soon silenced when Sabine showed him what was inside the cradle.

Painted on the underside of the shell was the Fulcrum symbol.

"Right over her head, keeping watch...keeping her safe," Sabine promised.

She couldn't at first identify the look in Kallus' eyes. Initially, he just looked shocked – overwhelmed, maybe? But that gradually shifted to something like amazement – amazement and happiness and gratitude. For a moment, she was half left wondering if the former Imperial might actually hug her. But if he'd intended to, he didn't get the chance, because Zeb was suddenly right there, lifting her up and half-crushing her in a bruising embrace.

"Thank you, Sabine," the Lasat said softly. "Thank you for this."

"Yeah, I know you're happy, Zeb, but you don't have to break my spine to prove it," the young artist choked out, only partly teasing at that point.

"Oh, right. Sorry," he mumbled out apologetically as he set her back down. "But really...thank you."

"Zeb speaks for me, as well," Kallus said, his smile almost shy as he moved in to stand beside the Lasat, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Think maybe the little nipper might wanna try the thing out?" Rex suggested with a distant smile.

"Actually, she's completely filthy. I think she might wanna get clean first," Ezra suggested as he slipped out of the room with Arkalia still in hand. "I'm gonna go ahead and take her down to the river."

"Ezra Bridger, don't you dare. That water's probably filthy," Hera started, but Kanan soon interrupted her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I don't think this is really about a bath. Just let him spend some time alone with her."

Ezra didn't hear any of the exchange, as he was already halfway out of the Ghost before Hera had even finished speaking. But Arkalia was still a bit fussy, trying to reach past the young Jedi.

"Hey, it's okay," Ezra soothed her as they headed out into the midmorning sunlight. "I know you haven't really warmed up to me yet, but give me a chance. I think you'll like this."

Ezra carried the kit right down to the river the Ghost had parked beside. He took a moment to unbelt his lightsaber, but then, clothes, boots, and all, he walked directly into the water, sitting down in the shallows. Then he shifted Arkalia so he was holding her in one arm, leaving his other hand free to reach down and scoop up a small handful of water.

"Here. Look at this," he cooed down at her, letting the water run through his fingers and down onto her feet.

"Ah. Ah. Ooo," Arkalia cooed in amazement, the tiny pads of her toes reaching to try and grasp at the shimmery droplets of water as they rolled away from her, back into the river. Once Ezra saw that she was enjoying it, he slowly started to settle her into the water, first letting her kick her feet around in it in excitement at the new sensation.

Once she was used to it, he situated her comfortably in his lap so she could splash around. All he really needed to do was make sure she didn't fall over.

"See? It's fun, yeah?" he said as he started to scrub the paint from her fur, watching in amusement as she splashed her little hands and feet in the water.

Arkalia trilled her agreement, giggling with every splash.

"I told you," he said with a small chuckle of his own. "Us orphans gotta stick together, after all."

For several minutes after that, he didn't speak, just continued to clean the kit's fur while she had her fun. When he did speak again, it was with a sort of confused longing.

"Y'know, I'm honestly not sure which of us is better off. You, because you'll never really know who your parents were, so you won't be able to miss them...or me...because I did have the chance to know my parents...to love them. I guess I sometimes wonder if things would be easier if I hadn't known them...if I'd been on my own earlier. But I guess I'd still wonder about them," he said quietly, his words counterpointed by the easy melody of the baby Lasat's burbling. "Heh, maybe neither's better or worse...missing what you know you've lost or just not knowing. Just...different. But hey, it doesn't matter now, does it," he conceded, smiling sadly as he shook off the dark thoughts, shifting his hand to fluff the fur behind Arkalia's ears.

The kit giggled at the sensation, splashing a little bit harder. Then Ezra heard her give a curious purr as her foot closed around something stuck in the riverbed. By the time she'd managed to wrest it from the sediment, most of the mud had been washed away, revealing an oblong stone that had been worn smooth by the river's currents. It was large enough that she was barely able to hold it with one foot, so he wasn't all that worried when she brought it to her mouth to chew on experimentally. At least she couldn't choke on it. Some niggling part of his brain suggested that it might not be a good idea to let her just chew on things she found in riverbeds, that the rest of the crew would heartily disapprove, but he honestly didn't see the problem since all the mud had been washed clean.

Once Arkalia had decided she couldn't eat the stone, she lifted her treasure over her head for Ezra to see. In his mind, he could just about hear her declaring, 'Look what I found!'.

The young Jedi laughed as he plucked the newly cleaned kit from the water, cuddling her against his chest as he got to his feet. "That's right, Ari. Know why it doesn't matter? Because you are never gonna feel unloved or unwanted. So long as you're with us, I'm gonna be your big brother. I'll always have a toy for you and I'm gonna make sure nothing bad happens to you. Then, when we take you to Lira San, we're gonna find a family for you that knows how special you are. It's gonna be great," he said, nuzzling the top of her head as he started to move through the river's slow-moving current, dancing in the water with the little Lasat.

Arkalia settled easily against his chest, purring in contentment as they danced. They remained like that until Hera came over to call them for lunch, smiling as she watched them.

"You two find something to talk about then?"

"Oh, yeah. Plenty. We have a surprisingly insightful little loth cat on our hands."

XxX

Day three of the crew's impromptu leave time and Rex honestly didn't know that he'd ever been more bored in his relatively short life.

Well, maybe bored wasn't the right word for his current state of mind, but he still detested not having some task or other to occupy his time with.

Back during the Clone Wars, it had been constant warfare, never really much of an opportunity to consider what life was like outside of combat. The years following the fall of the Jedi and his loss of Ahsoka – the siege of Mandalore – those years had been some of his darkest. They'd been turbulent, angry, self-loathing years and the fact that he'd come out alive on the other side of them had been more or less a miracle. Life on Seelos with Gregor and Wolffe had been slower-paced, it was true, but it had still been all about survival. Then had come the Rebellion. Back to the theatre of war, an arena he was familiar with. Back to Ahsoka...and for the first time in his life being able to put a name to what it was he felt for her. It was, he was fairly certain, the only time in his life he'd been truly happy. And then Ahsoka had come to him with one last piece of news.

"Rex..."

"Oh...Ahsoka...that's- it's wonderful . How long have you known?"

"Just a few weeks now."

Then Ahsoka had gone to Malachor.

In hindsight, Rex supposed he should've known better than to trust to happiness. That sort of thing just wasn't for a clone. So he'd let it go. He'd buried himself in the cause of the Rebellion, not leaving himself time to think of Ahsoka and everything that had been lost with her. But now, on leave, with nothing to occupy his thoughts, he found them turning increasingly toward memories that were like unbearably painful knives to what little remained of the heart of him.

Ahsoka's smile...

The whisper of her breath against his neck...

The press of her lekku against his chest as they moved together...

The ringing sound of her rare laughter...

The depthless blue of her eyes...

The wry lift of her smirk after besting an opponent...

The worshipful press of his lips against hers...

The way she'd guided his hands to her body after...

"Rex..."

No!

He was not going to fall apart like this! He'd led soldiers in battle. He'd fought against more enemies than could be named. He'd survived. There was no reason he couldn't survive the rest of his time...until he was with her again. Kriff this down time. He could still make himself useful. So he'd assigned himself the task of stripping and cleaning every last piece of munition aboard the Ghost.

The only thing was that he'd also somehow found himself with the task of watching Arkalia alongside of that.

After forcing Hera down for a much-needed and well-deserved nap, Kanan and Ezra had headed off into the forest on some kind of Jedi exercise. Sabine was currently in her room working on a secret new mural and would've happily watched Arkalia except no one thought it a good idea for the kit to be breathing the fumes from her paint guns for too long. Kallus and Zeb were still within sight of the Ghost, but they were in the middle of a sparring session with their bo-rifles. So, as his own task kept him in one more or less safe spot, the task of Kali-sitting had fallen to him.

The little kit really didn't need much. Strapped into a small bouncy seat, she was kept entertained by a small sea of toys, though her favorite by far were a small rope toy Kallus had woven for her from Allurian grass and the stone she'd found when she'd been out with Ezra the other day. Several of the toys Hera had found for her had already met less than noble fates at the hands of Arkalia's sharpening claws. Thus far, the rock and the the little length of rope were proving the most durable. Checking in on the kit from time to time to make sure she was still doing all right, Rex was able to lose himself in the mindless task of cleaning and maintenance.

At least he was able to until he heard the baby Lasat start to cry in protest. Looking up, he saw that she'd managed to accidentally throw her rock to the edge of the tarp where he was working. Reaching out her hands and making grabbing motions with them, she began to kick her legs, nearly upsetting her seat more than once. Already her cries were growing louder. It wouldn't be long before Zeb or Kallus heard her.

"All right. All right," the old clone conceded, laughing as he retrieved the rock and carried it back to the kit. "Got quite the arm on ya, Miss Kali, but I don't know what you expected to happen when you threw it away yourself."

Arkalia had no answer for him. She just gurgled expectantly as she looked up at him.

"Buh!" she insisted, reaching up for the stone.

"Buh? Is that so? I'm not sure I agree with you," he teased, waving the stone overhead, just out of her reach.

"Buh. Buh! Buh!" she argued, reaching with both hands and both feet now.

"Well, if you must, you must," he said, sitting down beside her as he passed her the river stone, which she happily went back to cutting her milk teeth on.

As he sat beside her, Rex unwittingly allowed his mind to wander again. Not back to Ahsoka, but...

"I guess she would've been born by now," he said in a quiet voice, absently stroking Arkalia's hair. "Couple months younger than you...maybe. I don't know." He also wasn't sure why he always thought 'she' whenever his thoughts strayed in that direction. With how far along Ahsoka had been, it likely wouldn't have been set yet. He was never going to know. But at the same time...he couldn't imagine his Ahsoka with anything but a little girl. "Would'a been just like ya, though. Beautiful little girl."

"Muh, buh, buh," the kit stated matter-of-factly as she looked up at him.

"Yeah. Muh," he said with a nod, thinking for a long moment before finally unstrapping the little Lasat from her seat and picking her up. "You know what, let's go see what your dads are up to."

He wouldn't call the pair that to their faces, of course. Not when they were only knee deep in this whole business. But he surely hoped they would head in that direction when all was said and done. If he had to watch anyone he cared about pass up a chance at family, well...he really might just have to shoot someone.

XxX

"Y'know, you're not half-bad for somebody who's never been formally trained in bo-rifle combat," Zeb told Alex as the former guardsman's latest swing passed directly over his head.

"Says the Lasat warrior I battled to a standstill the very first time we fought each other," Alex threw back at him, retreating instead of engaging in Zeb's next attack.

"I wasn't exactly expecting to face a bo-rifle that day," Zeb pointed out, taking several swings which Alex blocked. "It had been a while."

"Excuses, excuses," Alex teased, shoving Zeb back with a sudden surge of extra force. In his moment of distraction, the former Imperial managed to get in a hit with the electrified tip of his weapon, lowered to a training setting so they could use the rifles to spar with.

On the sidelines, Chopper gave a series of whistles and a few clicks, indicating clearly how the match was going.

Zeb – 3. Alex – 2.

"Oh, you'll pay for that one, you will," Zeb returned, smirking at him as he performed several showy twirls with his electrified weapon.

This time, Chopper's whirrs came in the quick bursts that indicated he was laughing. Zeb growled briefly as he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Come on, rust bucket. It's not just fighting. It's an art form."

At this, Alex launched into a series of fierce attacks, forcing Zeb into strictly guarding maneuvers. As their weapons slammed together in a stalemate, he smirked at Zeb from across the locked staffs.

"Keep your eyes on me, Garazeb," he said, both warning him and demanding his attention at the same time. "I'm sure you realize he's just distracting you because he wants me to win."

"Tch. No surprise there. But it's definitely no thing for me to keep my eyes on you," the Lasat purred, returning the smirk through their crossed weapons.

Alex gave a chastising shake of his head. "And now you're trying to distract me." Then he forced Zeb back, quickly rolling to the side after disengaging.

"Well? Is it workin'?" he asked as he pursued Alex's retreat. Alex blocked most of his jabs, but wasn't quite fast enough to stop the last blow to his hip, taking the shock with a small grunt.

Zeb – 4. Alex – 2.

"Perhaps a little," he conceded.

"Gonna have to go all the way then," Zeb said with an inviting growl as he took a swing at Alex's legs, which he just barely managed to avoid.

"I hope you do," he challenged, his tone remaining confident, even though he could feel his face reddening. "I'd hate to think you're going easy on me just because we're no longer mortal enemies," he said, using his rifle to quickly scale a small scattering of boulders before flipping it to the firing configuration and taking a shot at Zeb, which the Lasat easily avoided – although he wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the next volley.

Zeb – 4. Alex – 3.

Zeb took cover from the rain of fire, but his teasing never let up for a moment. "If you wanted easy, ni alitha, you should'a stayed with the Empire."

Alex laughed as he continued to fire toward the sound of Zeb's voice. "Now you insult me, Captain Orrelios. If things are so easy in the Empire, how is it I devised a fighting style to service a bo-rifle when no formal training was available?"

"Oh, that wasn't the Empire, love," Zeb's voice sounded from the opposite end of his cover. "I'm pretty sure that was all you."

"Then what is it you think you have to teach me?" Alex asked as he took a few steps back, waiting for the opportunity to take his next shot, but also prepared to drop down for cover if need be. For once, Zeb had fallen silent.

"This," the quiet whisper of the Lasat's voice sounded directly behind him, causing the former Imperial to yelp as he spun around to face his opponent. He was certain Zeb would've taken a swing at him were it not for the fact that he lost his footing and began to tumble from the boulder.

"Whoa! Hey!" Zeb shouted, quickly going after him, just barely managing to grab his hand. Clinging tightly to that four-fingered grip, Alex braced his feet against the rock face, suspended between standing and falling. When he looked up at Zeb, it was to see him offering up a smile that was both relieved and teasing. "Close one, that."

"How did you do that?" he demanded, for the moment not caring that he was still suspended above a potentially bad fall. Zeb grinned as he held up the clawed fingers of his free hand.

"Can't nothin' beat these little beauties as far as stealthy movement goes."

"I'm quite certain that's cheating."

"Oh? So I shouldn't be usin' 'em then? Would you like me to let go?" Zeb teased.

Alex couldn't quite help the new smile that moved across his face as he looked up at Zeb. "You never would," he said with total certainty.

"You're right," Zeb started, the besotted smile on his face matching the one on his own. "I wouldn't – but this match also ain't over yet," he said before pulling Alex back up onto the boulder with him while pulling his bo-rifle off his back in nearly the same motion, deploying it to the bo-staff configuration and using it to pin the former Imperial against his chest.

Alex immediately felt his face go bright red at the sudden intimate press of their bodies. In most other situations, his brain might have overloaded and shut down as well, but this was a combat situation. Instinct took over and led him to deliver a small jab to Zeb's side, feeling the minuscule electric current tinge along his own skin before the Lasat could release him. As he scuttled down off the boulder, he heard Chopper's count.

Zeb – 4. Alex – 4.

"Nice save," Zeb complimented, having no trouble just jumping down from the full height of the boulder and landing in a crouch.

"I can't- really take credit for that one. It was dumb luck," he replied, breathing heavily as his eyes swept the lines of Zeb's body.

This was it – the trouble with every single match they'd fought since his first one as Fulcrum...back on Lothal. Was Zeb honestly not having as much trouble as he was concentrating, or was he simply better at hiding it? Either way, he was not about to throw this match over his own undisciplined body. When Zeb came at him, he was ready, even growling a little.

One more hit. This match could go to either of them.

As annoyed as he was with himself, he had to admit that crossing staffs with Zeb was still exhilarating. He could feel the excitement in Zeb's expression mirrored in his own every time they clashed. As they moved together, back and forth across the rocky terrain, it was easy to get lost in the dance of it.

Right up until the moment Chopper gave several uncomfortably low whirs and suspiciously timed taps that could only be interpreted as, 'Would you two kriff-witted meatbags just kriffing do each other already?!'

And that was a little too much for even Alexsandr Kallus' supreme Imperial-ingrained calm to stand against. Brain going to full stop, he had zero chance to defend against Zeb's latest strike. He was both stung by the training shock and knocked off his feet by the force of the staff.

And as he went down, all his mind seemed capable of containing were thoughts of that fight on Lothal.

Let's give 'em a show then.

X

It was foolish.

Every single time the Spectres returned to Lothal, it was an exercise in utter idiocy, but there always seemed to be some reason they needed to come back. This time it was about rescuing a defector's son from the Lothal Academy. Ezra and Chopper had gotten clear with the boy, but Zeb, Sabine, and Kanan had become trapped on the wrong side of a sealed security door and promptly been separated from each other.

Zeb and Sabine had managed to stick together, but Kanan was at the other end of the compound, fighting his way through squad after squad of troopers. Kallus had managed to surreptitiously lead Zeb to an emergency hangar where the security system was conveniently down for repairs. Now it was just a matter of waiting for Kanan to make an appearance.

"Zeb, I'm still not sure this is a good idea," Sabine murmured to the Lasat as if Kallus wasn't sitting right there with them, trying to stay out of sight. "He could still be trying to set us up."

Zeb groaned in frustration. Even with the code phrase, Sabine Wren was not so quick to trust him. Wise as the former Imperial considered her skepticism, this wasn't exactly the place for mistrust.

"Sabine, I'm only gonna ask you this once, so I hope you think real careful about your answer. Do you trust me?" the Lasat asked his younger companion, and she did consider it a long moment before responding.

"Yes."

"Then you trust him, too. I get that it's hard, but there aren't a lot of people in the galaxy I trust as much as I trust him. You can believe in that," Zeb promised her, and even though the words were not specifically directed at him, Kallus felt a strange fluttering sensation in his chest to hear them spoken.

"All right. I'll go along with this, but you and I need to have a long talk when this is all over."

"More than one, I imagine," Kallus put in. "We won't have very long once Jarrus gets here."

"Kal, we've talked about that," Zeb scolded mildly.

Kallus rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth did lift up in a small smile. "All right, fine. Kanan. Once Kanan gets here. Are you happy now?"

"Gettin' there," Zeb snarked.

Kallus would have said more, except that was the moment the hangar's security doors slid open. Only it wasn't Kanan Jarrus who came through.

It was Grand Admiral Thrawn, Governor Pryce, and a fresh squad of stormtroopers.

"Karabast," Zeb snarled under his breath.

"Haran, Zeb, I told you!" Sabine hissed. "He set us up."

"What're we lookin' at?" Zeb asked him, not even dignifying the Mandalorian's accusation with a response.

"It's Thrawn," he hissed back.

"The grand admiral bloke? The one Hera told us about from Ryloth?"

"The same. We might've pulled one over on Pryce, but- it will be exceedingly difficult to deceive Thrawn."

"Well...let's give 'em a show then," Zeb declared with a dangerous grin.

" What? " he hissed back at the former guardsman.

"You can't exactly let us walk out, so we're gonna have to fight our way out. Through you. It's the only way we're gonna buy Kanan enough time to get here," Zeb told him, shifting his rifle to the bo-staff configuration, but not yet igniting it. "Come on. We can do it...you and me."

Kallus wanted to protest, wanted to point out all the ways this could go wrong, but with Zeb grinning at him like that, eyes so full of eager trust and excited amusement, he just couldn't refuse him. Returning the smile with a small but sure one of his own, he nodded as he allowed his own weapon to hum to life, making sure to keep the setting low.

"You and me."

"Don't hold back," Zeb warned him before delivering a hard blow to his gut, sending him flying into the view of the Imperials.

"Agent Kallus," Pryce exclaimed in mild surprise.

"Watch out!" Kallus warned as Zeb jumped up on the crates they'd been hiding behind. "I caught one of them trying to escape this way."

"Ah, the Lasat," the grand admiral said in a tone that could only be described as vaguely interested. "Garazeb Orrelios, I believe it was."

"Better keep my name off those ugly blue lips, Grand Admiral, " Zeb mocked, "or I won't just kill your boy there."

"Troopers, concentrate your fire-" Pryce started to command, but was quickly interrupted by Kallus.

"NO! Don't," Kallus hissed as he climbed back to his feet, extending his bo-rifle toward his one time enemy. "This one is mine. "

"Oh, yeah? We'll just see about that," Zeb said, letting out an angry battle roar before springing at Kallus, the strength of his attack actually forcing him back to his knees.

"Honestly, I don't see why we need to allow this," Pryce snapped. "This... non-human is easy prey."

"I, for one, would like this opportunity to observe a match," the Chiss said in a neutral tone. "The Lasat were a warrior race and they made much of their honor in combat, as I recall. Truly, this is an educational opportunity not to be missed."

If either of them said more, Kallus didn't hear it. He'd already become too caught up in the constant give and take between Zeb and himself – the endless whirl of their bo-rifles as they blocked each other's strikes, seeming evenly matched.

Taunts, insults, something , Kallus thought vaguely as he leaped over one of Zeb's lower strikes. We're supposed to hate each other. We can't just fight in silence like this.

"You never know when to give up, do you?" he snarled, defaulting to an old classic of theirs. The moment of amusement in Zeb's sneer told him he recognized it.

"Never," the Lasat fired back before delivering an overhead swing. Kallus bent backward at the waist to allow it to pass harmlessly just above his face. In the scant moments of the following motion, he maneuvered his weapon to deliver a jab to Zeb's side. The Lasat gave a not entirely exaggerated roar of pain.

"Perhaps you ought to learn, " he returned with a fierce sneer of his own, imagining that the expression looked to anyone else like anger.

When Zeb moved back to meet him, their bo-rifles locked together in an electrified clash of noise, heat, and light. It took every bit of energy he had to maintain the deadlock and he couldn't have been more exhilarated, despite their peril.

"Sorry, Kallus, but I've always been a pretty bad student," Zeb near- purred to him through their crossed rifles, sending a jolt of a different sort down his spine. "Might be able to learn you a few things, though."

That one left Kallus with little choice but to disengage, breathing heavily as he pulled back from Zeb. Quite suddenly, every single one of his senses had been magnified, all of them in some way focused on the Lasat – the musky scent of him he'd noticed before, now tinged with exertion...the sound of their joined heavy breathing roaring in his ears...the minute tremble of his powerful frame as they circled each other...the taste of salt on his own lips and the suddenly agonizing feel of each droplet of sweat trickling down his skin beneath the oppressive cling of his uniform. He was aware of their proximity in a way he never had been before. All in a moment, this had become a completely different battle for him.

"You?" he demanded with an uncomfortably high laugh, giving his weapon a spin just for the show of it. "What could you possibly have to teach me?"

"Sure you wanna know that?" Zeb asked before rolling to jump atop another of the crates, quickly flipping to the firing configuration and taking a few wide shots to just barely miss hitting him.

"Certainly, Lasat," he snapped back, throwing his arms wide as if in a gesture of foolhardy challenge. "Here I am. Teach me," he growled, feeling the different air of the conversation they were actually having.

Zeb smirked at him as he dropped low into a springing position. "Oh, you don't know what you're askin' for."

No! his brain shouted at him. This is too much. Thrawn will see. He'll know .

"Well, I suppose since there's no one else left to teach me," he threw out, feeling sick to his stomach as he spat out the ugly words. He could almost taste the ash on his tongue. He only prayed Zeb understood why he had to.

If nothing else, though, Zeb seemed to take his cue from the fabricated taunt, giving a roar of rage before launching into a berserker charge at Kallus, battling him until he'd maneuvered him up against the hangar wall, keeping him pinned in place with the deadly lock of their bo-rifles.

"You wanna learn so bad," the Lasat snarled at him, though there was a brief flicker in his expression, the ghost of a reassuring smile, that let Kallus know this was still just an act. "Then I'll teach you. I'll teach you how my people felt when they died! "

As Zeb spoke, he used the deadlock to keep Kallus pinned, straining to reach the electrified tip of his own weapon across the space between them, their bodies so close to touching it was unbearable . When the tip finally touched his body, inspiring no more than the faintest of jolts through his system, Kallus couldn't quite help how he threw his head back against the wall, a strangled cry escaping his lips that really could have been either pain or pleasure. Stars help him, but he could feel the Lasat's warm breath just against his neck.

He was kriffed. He was so spectacularly kriffed it was almost laughable. He actually felt himself go weak in the knees as Zeb leaned closer and closer to him.

"Ah... ah, " he whimpered helplessly when the bo-rifle was finally withdrawn. He didn't want to know what the expression on his face must look like.

"Had enough?" Zeb whispered in his ear, his voice somehow managing to be both threatening and inviting all in the same breath.

It was a relief that Kanan showed up when he did, because Kallus honestly wasn't sure what he might've done. When the room erupted in the hum of a lightsaber and the screech of blaster fire, Zeb shoved the double agent's bo-rifle aside before leaning in close to him, nothing separating them now.

"You all right?" he whispered in his ear.

Nodding, Kallus only just manage to pant out, "Go...go...get out."

"Kal-"

" Go ," he pleaded.

"F- fine," Zeb stuttered out. "Next time."

"Next time," he agreed. It was no great feat of acting for him to slide to the floor when Zeb finally released him. The last sight he had of him was the Lasat's confused and worried face before it was swallowed up by the boarding ramp of their escaping emergency response shuttle. And once again, Zeb was gone from him, in his life for only those brief, brilliant flashes of light – only for him to fall back into darkness when they were over.

They both knew that something was different between them. Something had changed during that fight. He just couldn't put a name to it.

Either that...or he didn't want to. Things with Zeb were already so confusing. Did he really need to make them more confusing?

No. The best thing you can do for him is to continue this fight. What you feel doesn't matter.

X

"Alex? Alex!" Zeb's worried snarl came to him through a daze of pain. Blinking his eyes open, he gradually began to see the Lasat's features swimming into view.

"Zeb?"

"You all right?" Zeb asked him as he helpedhim sit up.

"I think so. I remember...Chopper...and you. What- what happened?"

"Lucky hit combined with a bad fall," Rex explained, drawing Alex's gaze over to him, Arkalia, and Chopper."That conk with the ground knocked you stone cold for a few minutes there."

Chopper chimed in with a solid minute of beeps, followed by several spins.

"Chopper," Zeb growled at the droid, "I'm going to take you apart tonight and throw the parts out the airlock. I don't care what Hera does to me."

"How's your head?" Rex asked him, bouncing an insistent Arkalia up and down in his arms.

"Still a little dazed...but I'm sure it will be fine," he said, placing a hand on Zeb's shoulder to use as leverage to get himself back on his feet.

"Alex-"

Zeb didn't really need to continue, as the former Imperial was already weaving on his feet the moment he was on them. Zeb was instantly there to support him.

"Maybe you'd better get him back on board," Rex told the Lasat. "Get him resting. I'll watch the little nipper."

"Thanks, Rex," Zeb said before leading Alex back onto the ship, to their bunk, and down onto their bed.

Before Zeb could pull back from him, though, Alex was pulling him into a deep kiss, wrapping both arms around him to keep him there with him. Zeb groaned into the kiss, the low rumbling in his chest unimaginably pleasing to the former Imperial, but when he managed to put the sound together with the actual tone of the Lasat's voice, he realized there was an air of frustration in it.

"What- what's wrong?" he asked as he collapsed clumsily back on the bed.

"What's wrong is that I generally like it to be about me when you kiss me like that. Not about somethin' some deranged murder bot said," Zeb said with a small glare.

"This...this isn't-"

"Don't even try it, Kal. You'll just damage your brain worse tryin' to lie. Now I know what Chopper said, but it's gotta be more than that to have you react like that. So what's eatin' you?" the Lasat asked as he sat down beside him on the bed.

"Well...most of your crew seems to think we are already sleeping together."

Zeb shrugged. "Dunno when we would have. We've got kind of an erratic schedule."

"I just- don't see why we shouldn't be making that happen. Unless of course you...you don't want-"

"Stop right there, Alex," the former guardsman said with an air of warning. "I don't want you thinkin' for one second I don't want you. Karabast, I'd crawl over broken glass just to have you...but you have this thing you do where you lie to me about what you're feelin' or what you need."

"I...I..."

"Yeah, you can't even argue that one, can you. The point is I want you to be able to ask me for the things you want. I want you to feel like the things you want matter."

Alex sighed as he ran a hand over his face. "Don't tell me. You've been talking to Kanan."

"Not really, no. I can just read you a little better than you seem to give me credit for. I get that you want this. I can smell it on you, and you have no idea what that does to me, but...I can see it in your eyes, too. It's not about what you want. It's about what you think I want...what everyone else thinks...everythin' except you. So when you and I take to bed, it's gonna be about you and me and nothin' else. So I'm gonna ask you, Alex...what do you want? What do you want right now?"

Alex found himself at a bit of a loss as he looked up at Zeb, because while he knew what he wanted from the Lasat, there was also a voice at the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like the mercenary from his nightmares.

Weak. You're so weak.

But he couldn't let that nightmare win. So, reaching out for Zeb's hand and pulling it close to him, he spoke only two words.

"Hold me?"

That, Zeb was only too happy to do, purring soothingly as he gathered Alex in his arms. Neither of them said anything, just curled up together on that small bottom bunk, holding tightly to each other, occasionally sharing little kisses, but mostly just breathing each other in.

They didn't stir from the bed until the sounds of a squalling Arkalia being carried aboard the Ghost drew them out of the sort of trance they'd fallen into, smiling at each other and sharing one last kiss before going to see what the problem was.

Chapter Text

Kanan wasn't completely certain what it was that woke him from his sleep, but he'd learned long ago not to ignore those probably nothings and not completely certains. So he rose and dressed for the day, venturing out among the crew quarters to see if he could pinpoint what it was that was nagging at his brain.

Things had actually been much more peaceful aboard the Ghost these last few days. Though Arkalia's presence had stirred up some painful but beautiful memories for Sabine, Ezra, and Hera, they were nothing but enchanted by the little kit. She'd even begun to ease some of Rex's hurt, and had finally confirmed for the Jedi what he'd been uncertain of ever since Malachor – that the clone had been aware of Ahsoka's pregnancy.

Kanan had been aware of it almost as soon as Ahsoka herself had been, but he'd never had the chance to ask the former Fulcrum if she'd been able to tell Rex about it. Everything had been chaos and confusion and pain after Malachor and he'd been too caught up in his own hurt, in Ezra's hurt, to try and untangle Rex's grief as well. He'd only known that it had been deep – deep and rending and crushing...a grief that would've destroyed a lesser being. A grief he could hardly bear to imagine himself enduring. He hadn't wanted to know if it was simply grief for his lover...or grief for both her and the child. If Rex hadn't known, if he'd grieved only for Ahsoka, how much more terrible would his grief have become if he were to learn what he'd lost on Malachor? Kanan hadn't wanted to do that to his friend, not if he could help it. So he'd waited patiently for some indicator, and that had come in the form of the baby Lasat. The sense of longing he felt from Rex told him the former trooper was grieving for what had never been – for what Arkalia represented for him. As painful as it was, though, she was helping him heal.

Then there were their two newly weds – Alexsandr Kallus and Garazeb Orrelios. Though Kallus still had some very ugly stuff bleeding from his psyche and he hadn't fully opened up to Zeb, there was still something inside of him that was beginning to unclench, to ease and maybe finally allow him to come to terms with whatever it was that was gnawing at him. Kallus was coping, and though it might not all happen at once, he was still in a much better place than he had been that first day. If anything, it was Zeb Kanan found himself beginning to worry about. He was still exuding the same worry he'd given voice to back on Telos – the fear of what would happen if any of this went wrong. For Kallus' sake, he kept that fear hidden, but it was still there, quietly chipping away at something painful inside the Lasat warrior. Kanan knew very well that Zeb was serious about Alexsandr, but Arkalia...she was an unknown factor.

But none of that inner turmoil was present at the surface as they slept. No. It wasn't any of that which had called him from his sleep. It was something much simpler than that.

Arkalia was awake.

Quietly entering Sabine's quarters, Kanan made his way over to the corner where he knew the bassinet was situated, zeroing in on the sound of Arkalia cooing a little morning song. So far as he could tell, Sabine was still asleep, so the kit hadn't managed to wake her yet. Plucking the little Lasat gently from her cradle, he slipped his mask off and left it in her place to let the others know she was with him. He had a feeling she and him had a long trip ahead of them today.

"The Force is a little bit prickly this morning. So what do you say? Wanna go on an adventure?" he asked her, grabbing the carrier they'd gotten for her on the way out of Sabine's room and bringing it with them to the galley. Arkalia burbled sweetly the whole way.

"Ahm, muh, muh. MlaaaAAAR," she squealed, the sound eventually shifting into a purr. Kanan laughed quietly, tickling her under the chin before securing her in the carrier so he could get everything ready.

"Yeah, I don't know what that means, kitten, but you can keep talking," he said, going through the steps Hera had walked him through to prepare a bottle for her. She didn't seem to be hungry yet, but he knew he wouldn't want to be without the milk later. For himself, he just grabbed a few ration bars.

"She'll keep talkin', whether you want her to or not," Rex's voice entered the galley. "I've found it's best to just pretend you know what's goin' on."

The Jedi gave a helpless sigh as he headed over to the clone and the kit. "Well, that strategy's been serving me pretty well the last seventeen years. I suppose it's a...passable approach to raising a child," he said, depositing the bottle and ration bars in the carrier's side pouch. The comment drew a loud guffaw from the old clone.

"I can name a few folks right here shipboard would heartily disagree with that statement, but far be it from me to question a Jedi, even on such unfamiliar territory as parenting," he said, the pleased trill Arkalia gave telling him that Rex was giving her a stroke behind the ears.

"What? You don't call what we've done with Sabine and Ezra parenting?" he asked in mock insult as he lifted the carrier and settled it securely on his back.

"Okay, granted, but this is still a little different. Heading out on another life-changing Jedi field trip?" the old soldier asked, following them from the galley and down to the ramp.

"That's the notion. I don't know where we're heading yet, but something's insisting we head out, so...see you tonight...most likely," Kanan said with a nod as he started down the ramp.

"All you got's one bottle and one spare diaper in that pack? Yeah, you'll be back long before nightfall," Rex said with another laugh. "But we have been goin' through that bantha store like nobody's business. Maybe keep your nose to the ground for some fresh meat?"

"Rex," he called over his shoulder, "I am heeding the call of the Force. This is an important spiritual journey. I am not going on a food run."

"So you'll let us know if you need help with the groceries then?"

Kanan shook his head as he walked, grinning as he gave a pained sigh. "I will do that."

"Buh, buh, ra!" Arkalia babbled, the motion of her small body against his back telling him she was waving to Rex.

"Buh-bye, Miss Kali," the clone called to her. "Keep our Jedi out of trouble out there!"

"Ma ba!" the baby Lasat sang for all the world to hear.

"Fierce little Lasat warrior," Kanan agreed with a nod. "But you just remember, little guardling, I can't see you. I am therefore completely immune to all of your adorable charms."

"La la la ly la," Arkalia giggled in a perfectly darling tone that completely belied everything he'd said.

"Well, I'm doomed," he said with an accepting nod as they walked into the forest.

For a long while, they just strolled through the trees, Kanan talking about nothing while Arkalia babbled her responses as if she understood any of it. He'd gotten the layout of the forest pretty well when he and Ezra had entered the other day and there had been no real danger either of them could sense. He wasn't really certain what it was the Force was pushing him toward, but there was something here he was supposed to find and it somehow involved Arkalia. The last thing he wanted to do was ignore it.

By his own count, it was about midmorning when the little girl started to get fussy. Figuring she just wanted her breakfast, Kanan came to a stop near a larger tree, sitting down at its base and setting the carrier next to him, lifting Arkalia into his arms, he retrieved her bottle from the carrier and began to feed her.

"So Ari," he started, bouncing the kit lightly as she suckled voraciously at her bottle, "feel up to telling me why it is my best friend's so scared over a little thing like you?"

Size matters not, Master Yoda's voice sounded faintly at the back of his mind. And it was true. It hardly mattered how small or insignificant Arkalia appeared to be. If she represented something in Zeb's heart, as she did in Rex's, then that little thing could suddenly become everything. So what did she represent? Zeb's people? His family? His inability to protect them? Survivor's guilt was a deep hole to climb out of. Kanan Jarrus knew it only too well. Caleb Dume knew it only too well. Even Garazeb Orrelios, who constantly insisted he'd moved on, hadn't managed it completely.

Only...Kanan found himself thinking that this wasn't just a matter of simple survivor's guilt. There was more to it. It wasn't guilt Zeb was focusing on Arkalia – not in the same way Kallus was, at least.

No.

It was fear.

Fear of pain. Fear of loss. Not just of what Kallus might lose, but of what Zeb himself might lose. The more there was to gain, the more there was to lose. And he also knew that, in a way, he'd been struggling with that very notion almost from the moment he'd joined up with Hera.

"Well, that's...enlightening. You know, you're very articulate for a kid who can't actually talk," he told the kit, who cooed sweetly in response as she shoved her bottle away.

This wasn't it, though. At least...not this alone. There was something more he needed to learn out here.

But what?

That answer started to come to him when he reached to place the bottle back in the carrier and suddenly found a section of the tree trunk behind him giving way, sending them both tumbling backward and down.

Normally, avoiding such an obvious fall would've been easy for him, but he was a little too focused on protecting Arkalia to worry about stopping the fall. Instead, he curled his body tightly around hers to shield her from any harm, sensing any eminent danger to her and taking it onto himself. He felt quite a few sharp jabs to his body as he impacted with several tree roots. When he finally hit the ground some five meters down, it was with a single pained grunt. That was going to leave more than a few marks.

"Ari," he groaned as he uncurled from around her, just lying there on the cave floor for a moment, "you all right?"

The kit gave several indignant cries, as if she were going to burst into tears, but the dam never quite burst. Instead, she went back to cooing, curling all four of her tiny paws into the fabric of his shirt and clinging tightly to him while she nuzzled her face into his chest. Sighing in relief, he slowly started to sit up, returning Arkalia's affection with a gentle nuzzle of his own to the top of her head.

"That's a relief. Zeb and Kallus would've killed me if anything had happened to you. Though...it still might," he said uncertainly, head shifting about to try and get a sense of his surroundings. He really should've sensed a dangerous fall like this. If he hadn't, there was a reason for it.

Whatever had drawn him...it was down here.

Then, as he climbed to his feet, everything became clear.

Literally.

He could see!

Only- it wasn't a dank, musty cave like he'd been expecting. He was standing inside the council chamber. In the Jedi Temple. Back on Coruscant.

"W- wha..." he started in shock as he looked around, seeing the nightscape of the city planet spread out all around the temple like an ocean of light.

This...this isn't real, he had to remind himself as his gaze darted around the chamber. This is a vision – an echo of what was sent by the Force. The kit in my arms right now...she is real. And he clung even tighter to Arkalia to remind himself of that fact.

At first, he thought the chamber was deserted. But then he gradually began to see the tiny figures of children hiding behind the masters' seats. There were younglings hiding in the council chamber? But why? What was happening?

Then the chamber door slid open and the ricochet of blaster fire off of lightsaber blades echoed into the chamber along with a man in dark robes. Kanan felt a jolt of familiarity, but he couldn't figure out where from. Then he looked into the shadowed eyes beneath the hood and suddenly he understood. The hate, the anger, the pain – this was the Sith lord...from before the mask.

Darth Vader.

No. Stars, no, not this. Anything but this. This is-

A lone child emerged from hiding at his entrance, slowly approaching the Sith with a look of fear in his eyes.

"Master Skywalker, there are too many of them," the little one said, his voice thick with fear. "What are we going to do?"

Skywalker? Did he say Skywalker?! It can't be!

The creeping Sith creature offered no answer, no comfort to the frightened child. His only response was to ignite his blade, its blue glow casting a ghostly pallor upon the youngling's face. Then he raised the lightsaber to strike.

"No! STOP!" Kanan cried out, calling his own blade to his hand. He couldn't endure this. He couldn't just watch this happen. But as he drew his lightsaber to stand against the Sith, the scene changed right before his eyes. He saw his apprentice, bound and disguised as some sort of smuggler, thrown to the floor of an Imperial cell.

"Ezra?" he mumbled in confusion, ignited blade still held at the ready while he held Arkalia close against his chest with his other hand. Then Kallus appeared in the open cell door.

"Leave us," the agent said to someone Kanan couldn't see. "I'll interrogate him myself."

What was this? An act? Or was Kallus not really on their side?

The agent entered the cell with a grim look on his face, but the moment the door had sealed behind him, the expression melted into one of frantic concern.

"Do you realize how dangerous it is for you to be here? If anyone recognizes you-" he started to scold where Kanan could not, undoing Ezra's binders once he'd turned his back to him.

"They won't," Ezra insisted. "You know how big the Empire is? Most troopers don't even know what I look like now," he finished with a casual shrug as he slipped a holo-capture from his clothing, immediately beginning to take images of the bemused agent.

"I hope that's true for everyone's sake. If they- what...Ezra, what are you doing?" Kallus asked him, taking a step back from him in confusion.

"Zeb was demanding visual confirmation that you're still in one piece. I know you guys have talked since Manaan, but you gotta admit, that last sight he had of you was a pretty bad one. I'll be honest, most of us didn't think you were gonna pull through this time," Ezra said, a small spark of worry in his own eyes belying his cavalier attitude.

Kallus rolled his eyes as he sighed. "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming, Ezra Bridger."

"Don't give me that, man. Zeb was really worried about you. He's been tearing his fur out ever since Kanan dragged him back onto the ship."

Kallus had turned away from Ezra while he'd been talking, so the young Jedi couldn't see his expression, but Kanan had a perfect view of the haunted, sorrowful look in the former Imperial's eyes. He swallowed heavily before responding.

"I know...and I am sorry for his suffering, but there was little I could do. It had to play out as it did or we all would've been done for."

"Yeah, that- that's a conversation I'm just gonna let Zeb have. Trust me, there're a lot of things he's been planning to say to you."

"I don't doubt it, but my response shall be the same as ever it has been."

"Kal," Ezra interrupted in a torn voice, suddenly looking more the child he'd missed out on being and less the man he'd been forced to become, "he hasn't been sleeping. I can't remember the last time I saw him eat."

That got the agent's attention but quick. He turned back to Ezra with a look of naked worry in his eyes.

"What?"

"He's been beating himself up pretty bad over what happened. I think he just needs to see for himself that you're healing all right."

"So...you got captured...to tell me this?" Kallus pressed anxiously, moving a few steps closer once more.

"Bit more than that, actually. It's not your fault. It's really not. Sato gets it. With how bad off you were after Manaan, you probably weren't as careful as you usually are."

"What do- Ezra, what are you talking about?"

"We think the Empire was monitoring your last Fulcrum transmission. They probably haven't pegged you yet, but Command sent me in to get you outta here."

Kallus' initial reaction was a simple widening of the eyes, but then he shook his head, his expression shifting into a strange sort of half-smile. "Well...I suppose I have no choice now. What's our play?"

"Oh, hey, before things get crazy and I forget, have you still got your corder pendant?" Ezra asked as he reached into his clothing once again.

"I- of course. Why?" Kallus asked, reaching into his uniform to draw out a small recorder sphere attached to a slender silver chain around his neck. Ezra grinned as he produced a small storage chip, linking it with the recorder sphere.

"Fresh batch of Ari holos, courtesy of Zeb and Sabine."

Kanan didn't think he could describe the tender smile that transformed the agent's face and still do it justice. It was a look full of love and warmth and joy, and it reminded the Jedi intensely of the kit he still held pressed against his chest, wishing he could speak to Kallus across whatever distance this was and show him the little girl.

"Thank you," Kallus whispered with a nod.

"No problem. She's gonna be happy to see you."

"Open this door!" an annoyed voice suddenly sounded from the other side of the cell door.

"Oops. Time's up. Guess we'll have to plan later," Ezra said as he grabbed Kallus' hand, grinning at him before helping him deliver a fake punch to his jaw. Ezra probably overdid the crash against the opening door. "Stop! I'll tell you anything!"

Before Kanan really had a chance to smirk at Ezra's antics, the scene shifted again. He wasn't sure when he'd deactivated his lightsaber, but it was a struggle not to reignite it – to remind himself that there was nothing he could do to alter the shadows of what he was seeing.

It was a battle. The air was filled with the sounds of explosions, with the hum of bo-rifles and the screeching shred of disruptor fire. It didn't take Kanan long to understand what he was seeing when he realized he was surrounded by Lasat, all of them fleeing Imperial pursuit.

This was the Fall of Lasan.

A sickening arc of green light spread from one of the disruptors with an ugly screech, catching a swath of terrified Lasat in its glow and incinerating them – some more slowly than others.

"COME ON!" a familiar voice shouted over the roar of the panicked mob. "EVERYBODY INSIDE!"

Then, from the mad press of the crowd emerged one Lasat warrior that Kanan knew well.

Garazeb Orrelios. Younger, less haggard, dressed in some sort of ceremonial uniform and valiantly wielding his bo-rifle against his enemies. With an enraged roar, he deftly took out a line of Imperials readying their disruptors for use on the fleeing Lasat.

"CAPTAIN!" a new voice shouted to the guardsman, its owner flying up the steps of the massive building everyone was retreating into. The Lasat woman collapsed at Zeb's feet, her uniform torn, hair in disarray, and her fine fur matted with blood.

"Echari, what happened?" he demanded of her as he attempted to help his fellow guard stand. "You shouldn't be here! You were-"

"The creche! The creche has been breached!" she cried out. "The others are dead! The invaders, they- they took the little ones," she sobbed.

"Kaya?" Zeb started, his expression shifting to panic as he shook the other guard. "Where's Kaya? What happened to her?!"

The guardswoman, Echari, shook her her head as she collapsed one final time. "Gone," she whispered.

"No," Zeb hissed. "No!"

Then, from out of the chaos and terror, came the sound of a single voice crying and screaming.

"GARAZEB!"

Zeb immediately zeroed in on the terrified cry, eyes focusing on a stormtrooper running away from the rout with a Lasat child thrown over his shoulder. Kanan wasn't sure, but she didn't look like she could be much older than six or seven.

"KAYA!" Zeb snarled, giving an incensed roar before pursuing the trooper.

"Zeb! Garazeb, help me!" the little girl cried, her sobs some of the most heartbreaking Kanan had ever heard, and he had heard many.

"KAYA!" Zeb shouted as he ran after them. "KAYA!"

The guardsman did catch up to his prey, but Kanan was never going to know how it ended because that was also the moment everything went up in white.

"ZEB!" he shouted on instinct, reaching a hand out into the whiteness before the scene could shift altogether. Arkalia was beginning to whimper now, because even though she couldn't see any of this, she could certainly tell that he was worried.

The scene he shifted into was in the brig of some ship he'd never seen before, and the first thing he became aware of was Zeb, chained to a pipe and hanging from the ceiling, his feet hobbled down by a heavyset pair of binders.

"Zeb!" he called out in alarm, taking a single step forward before he was able to remind himself that he couldn't do anything – that this already had happened or had yet to happen.

The Lasat looked like he'd been through hell. He was hanging limply from his chains and he was breathing heavily, eyes half-closed. His body trembled with every struggled breath and his purple fur was matted with blood in several places.

"Kali...Kali...little squeak...my girl...I'm so sorry," he whispered, choking back a sob as he squeezed his eyes shut.

This hasn't happened yet. It's still in the future, Kanan realized, reflexively holding the kit a little tighter as she began to cry.

Then the door to the makeshift brig slid open, admitting an enraged human male who wore a vest made of what looked suspiciously like Wookiee fur.

"Kriffing kriff kriffwitted!" the human grumbled before kicking one of the pipes that occupied the space. "When I get ahold of those no good-"

"Heh. Heh-heh," Zeb laughed at the man, though the motion of the laugh clearly pained him. "They got away...didn't they."

"Not for long," the man snarled back. "They can't hide forever. I'll find 'em eventually."

"The little one...what did you do to her?" Zeb tried to demand in as firm a voice as he could manage. The man sneered as he moved closer to Zeb.

"Bet you'd like to know. Just swoop right in and snatch my prize away from me. Not that you'll be doin' much swoopin' in the little time you've got left."

"Kuross, I swear, if anythin' happens to that kit-"

"You'll what? Kill me? You'd kill me whether or not anything happened to that rodent. Animals. The lot of ya!" the man, Kuross, snapped.

"Not just me," Zeb pointed out, not even acknowledging his animal jab. "You're forgettin' two Jedi, a captain, a Mandalorian, a clone captain, a murder bot, a rebel spy, and basically the entire rebel movement. They'd be gunnin' for you, too."

"Heh, sure. We'll see how good your rebel riffraff are against my clients. After all, it ain't just myself I'm huntin' for this time, much as I'd just love to lay into that sleek fur a' yours," the bounty hunter said as he slipped a vibro-shiv from his belt, holding it dangerously close to Zeb's throat. Zeb growled at the human, risking a nick from the vibrating weapon to try and bite the hand that held it. Kuross laughed as he withdrew his hand. "Though...I guess your skin might not be worth the effort it'd take to get it off ya. Complete bust as far as collector's value goes, scarred and damaged as it is."

"Well, 'scuse me for bein' a proper Lasat," Zeb snarled, making a valiant but brief struggle against his bonds.

"Oh, I didn't say it had no value. Just 'cuz I can't turn a profit doesn't mean it's worthless. Got a bit of a thing for Lasat fur myself," he continued as he moved away from Zeb.

"Yeah, I know," the former guardsman spat out. "Kinda hard to forget the monster what walks around with the skin of your people sewn into his clothing."

"Really, you should feel honored, Garazeb Orrelios," Kuross said as he dug through a storage locker. "To be a part of my collection-"

"Forgive me if I'm not exactly tickled by the thought of havin' my skin ripped off for some human's fetish purposes."

"Guess I can't blame you for that one, but at the end of the day, it looks like you're still the one in chains while I'm the one with the keys," Kuross said as he came up with the item he'd been searching for – a carefully folded Lasat pelt. Kanan actually took a shocked step back at that one. It was one thing to hear the bounty hunter talk about skinning Lasat, but to actually see the fruits of such a labor...it was nauseating.

"A Lasat mercenary came to kill me one time. Son of a bitch was the toughest kill I ever made. Just about got the drop on me. You were right up there with him. Ya put up a damn good fight. Almost got away. So you'll have a place right next to him," the bounty hunter said as he moved back toward Zeb, coming to rub the fur along his cheek. The Lasat shuddered in barely contained revulsion, and Kanan knew that if he felt sickened just watching this, he couldn't begin to imagine what Zeb would feel actually experiencing it. All he could do was stand there, trying to comfort Arkalia and just wishing the vision would stop. But the Force was apparently not in a forgiving mood today, as Kuross' next words snapped both his and Zeb's attention back to him.

"Now...just imagine the kind of return I could get on the unblemished pelt of a kit."

Once again, Kanan had to resist the urge to reach for his lightsaber, but Zeb was under no such duress. He let out an incensed roar, throwing himself at the bounty hunter, straining with all his might against his bonds, and for a moment, it seemed they might actually give. Even though the binders ultimately ended up holding, Kuross still took a step back in amazement.

"You wouldn't! YOU WOULDN'T!" Zeb screamed, voice barely recognizable as anything sentient as he continued to struggle against his bonds. "SHE'S A CHILD!"

"Well, that would be the point, wouldn't it?" the bounty hunter asked with a sneer, but that self-satisfied expression was soon shifting into a look of disappointment. "But sadly, in this case, you're right. Your kit's life ain't mine to take. My contract with the Empire does specify a need for the two of ya to be alive when I bring ya in, and I sure as kriff ain't gonna be the one to cross them."

"The Empire?" Zeb asked in despair, body finally going limp in his bonds.

"The same. Don't ask me why, but this Thrawn character specifically wanted you'n the kit, so he got the best in the business to track ya down. Not sure what's gonna happen to the kit, but you go to me as a finder's fee when he's done with ya. So while we wait to rendezvous with the Chimera, you two are gonna sit tight while I figure out just where those friends a' yours disappeared to."

Zeb might've said something in response, but all Kanan could perceive of him anymore was the haunted, defeated look in his eyes – like he'd been stabbed through the heart with his own bo-rifle.

"Zeb!" he tried to call out to him as the Lasat's face began to fall away into darkness, leaving him alone in the void with Arkalia.

"Zeb!"

He could still see, but there was nothing to see – nothing but the helplessly wailing kit in his arms. Holding her close against his chest and rocking her, he couldn't quite help but take in her features as he soothed her.

"It's okay. It's okay. You're gonna be all right. I'm here. I'm here," he crooned easily, taking in the kit's tiny twitching ears and her luminescent green eyes. He knew it wouldn't be long before he couldn't see her, so he had to take in every detail while he still had the chance. And as her terrified sobs started to lessen, other voices began to make themselves known to him.

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose..."

"Stretch out with your feelings..."

"All is as the Force wills it..."

"...but you are not a Jedi yet..."

"So what I told you was true...from a certain point of view..."

"Let the past die. Kill it...if you have to..."

"Only what you take with you..."

"Be mindful of the Living Force..."

"I can feel your anger..."

"I am no Jedi..."

"Far above, far below, we don't know where we'll fall..."

"Always in motion is the future..."

"...it's what I had to do..."

With every voice that rushed through him, the knight saw the image of Arkalia grow dimmer and dimmer, until all that remained were her round eyes, blinking curiously up at him.

"Why this? Why like this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking, certain that if his eyes could still shed tears, they would be doing so. To be able to see...but to have to see that...

Then, finally, even Arkalia's eyes went black and he was left alone in darkness once again, breathing heavily as he cradled the kit against his beating heart.

Somewhere in the midst of the visions, he'd stumbled back against the tangled gnarl of the tree roots. Already protesting the rough treatment, his body was none too happy with the unpleasant jabs of those ancient roots. But when he began to disentangle himself from their embrace, the unsettling and unwelcome sound of something growling was suddenly at his ear.

"Oh...that's not good," Kanan grumbled quietly to himself as he quickly slipped into a battle-ready stance. Whatever this creature was, he got a sense of anger from it – anger and hunger. So their fall and Arkalia's wailing had had the misfortune of waking some creature from its hibernation. "Don't suppose there's any chance of singing you back to sleep," he couldn't quite help joking just before the creature let out an enraged roar, stomping toward them.

Well, Rex had said to be on the lookout for fresh meat.

The weight of the creature's tread upon the ground told the blind knight that it was nearly twice his size. If he'd been on his own, he would've been able to handle the situation without a second thought. But he wasn't alone. He had to keep Arkalia safe. There was no way he was setting her down with a maddened creature about to go berserker on the loose. The carrier was still up at the top of the pit. The only option was to hold onto her and fight one-handed.

"How 'bout it, baby girl? Think you can hold tight to me?" he asked as he drew his saber. He hoped that his instinct about the Lasat would prove to be right, and that, as a climbing race, one of a kit's first instincts would be to grip.

Arkalia seemed to understand him well enough, her fingers and toes curling even tighter into the fabric of his shirt. But he did still keep his hold on her when he finally made his move, slipping just out of the enraged beast's grip and sweeping around behind it. He felt the displacement of air as the beast swung a massive arm back toward them. It took little more than a flick of his lightsaber to sever the animal's hand, leaving it roaring in rage and pain.

The Force warned him of the deadly swing of the beast's other arm in time to shield Arkalia from it, but not to avoid the blow entirely. When the massive hairy arm connected with his body, he was sent flying against the far wall of the cave. His back really wasn't going to thank him for this later.

Breathe, he reminded himself, drawing on the previous intensity of his connection to the Force during the visions, even as the creature charged at them. It was enraged, half-starved, and in pain. It was reacting, not acting. This could be finished quickly. Kanan kept his position where he'd fallen until the last possible moment.

Then, just as the beast was moving in to crush his head between its jaws, he thrust his lightsaber up through its soft, defenseless throat. The creature gave a hideous, gurgling roar of defeat before falling dead before him.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Kanan said with a relieved exhale as he wiped a light sheen of sweat from his face, noticing for the first time that even though he'd released Arkalia in order to be able to get the proper amount of strength behind his final blow, she'd still kept her hold on him throughout.

"Good girl," he said, patting the top of her head and earning himself a nuzzle to his palm. When he finally managed to get a proper whiff of his downed opponent's scent, he began to get a better idea of just what it was he'd felled.

"Well...sure hope everyone's in the mood for gundark tonight."

XxX

Needless to say, precisely no one on the Ghost crew was pleased when Kanan returned from his little walkabout half beat up. He was only treated to a combination patch job and scolding from Hera after everyone had endlessly fussed over Arkalia. And in high spirits though he seemed to be, they could all tell he was distracted by something. They barely managed to bring in his kill from the forest before the storm that had been threatening since noon broke, lashing torrents of rain down on the starship's hull.

With the uncooperative weather, the cooking was done inside that night, but it didn't matter much to Alex where they ate, as he couldn't seem to get Arkalia to calm down. Every time the rumble of thunder resonated throughout the ship, a fresh wave of crying would begin. None of the usual tricks seemed to be working – not singing, not scratching, not nuzzling, not rocking or cuddling, none of it. The little kit just would not be comforted. In an attempt to spare the rest of the crew her fit, Alex had withdrawn to their bunk, thinking to just wait it out with her until she'd cried herself to exhaustion. Only that didn't seem any closer to happening when Zeb went back to check on them. Arkalia was still sobbing in terror and Alex looked exhausted, his eyes shadowed and his pale skin even more pallid.

"The thunder...it bothers her," he mumbled helplessly, continuing to mindlessly rock the kit. "I don't know what to do."

"Give her here," Zeb said softly, holding out his hands to take the kit, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "I wanna try somethin'."

"What kind of something?" Alex asked as he stood from the bunk, handing Arkalia over without hesitation.

"Just an idea I got from Ezra," Zeb said, absently rocking the little Lasat as he moved away from the crew quarters, Alex following not too far behind, but the former Imperial was soon protesting when he realized Zeb was taking her outside.

"Zeb, I really don't see how that's going to help. Won't going out in it only make things worse?" he pointed out as they headed down the exit ramp.

"Only one way to find out," the former guardsman said matter-of-factly. It took some coaxing to get Arkalia to release her grip on his jumpsuit, but once he'd managed it, he turned her around to face the storm, settling her comfortably on one arm.

"Look on out here, Kali," he encouraged her, holding a hand out from beneath the cover of the Ghost and letting the rain pour down onto his fingers. Then he drew his hand back, allowing the kit to have a look at the individual drops of water that now clung to his fur. "You know what this is, don'tcha? Remember? You like water."

Even though she was still whimpering, Arkalia reached out toward his hand, her own tiny ones dwarfed by it as she pressed them against his palm, letting the raindrops trickle down onto her little fingers. Almost in spite of herself, the little girl's latest sob turned into more of a squeal.

"Not so bad, is it," he continued to cajole her, stepping a little further out until the rain was falling on her hands and his. Arkalia gave a tiny coo of amazement at the sensation. When the lightning flashed, she almost didn't seem aware of it. She only seemed to see the way the bolt of light set the raindrops to sparkling as they danced through the air.

They had a brief set back with the next crash of thunder. Arkalia whimpered again, pulling back into herself and back up against Zeb's chest, trembling in fright...but she wasn't outright crying anymore. They were making progress.

"Come on now, little squeak," Zeb kept right on encouraging. Normally, he knew, he didn't have such an infinite amount of patience, but for her – her and Alex – he felt like he could sit and wait for the stars to turn to dust. "I'm right here. We're both right here. Nothin' bad's gonna happen to you."

Once again, Arkalia reached out to touch the rain, a small smile moving across her face as Zeb moved a little further out. When they were about halfway out in the rain, another thunderclap sounded, causing the kit to retreat against him once more.

"Ze ze, ze ze, ni kyra," he soothed, beginning to speak in Lasana. "Arrag or'san valad mayra," he assured her as he carried her all the way out into the rain, relieved to see her face blossom into a full smile.

"What is that- you're saying to her?" he heard Alex asking. When he turned back to look at the former Imperial, it was to see him still standing beneath the cover of the Ghost.

"Ze ze is hush...shh. Ni kyra is...again, the translation's a bit wonky. It means 'my little claw'. Guess the Basic version is to say sweetheart or darlin'. The rest is an old Lasat sayin'. Means 'the ground's not goin' anywhere'."

Alex just blinked at him in confusion a few moments before coming out with, "I'm sorry. What?"

"I think the Basic equivalent is 'don't look down' or 'don't be scared'," he started to explain. "Y'see, we're a climbin' people. This kit's gonna be climbin' before she's walkin'. It's about how...no matter how high you climb, there's always a fall waitin'. So if that fall's there anyway, you may as well not be scared of it. Arrag or'san valad mayra."

Alex considered it a moment before nodding. "It makes sense. I like that."

"So are you gonna stay under there all night or are you comin' out with us?" he asked Alex with a soft smirk.

Again that confused blinking. "Zeb, you're not- you can't be thinking of keeping this up. She'll catch her death out in that."

"Really? Looks an awful lot to me like she's havin' fun," Zeb returned, nodding down at the kit, who was clapping and squealing with delight as she caught raindrops with her little toes. When the next clap of thunder rumbled across the plane, she didn't even notice it.

Alex smiled tenderly as he looked at them. "Garazeb Orrelios, you are nothing less than a miracle worker."

"Garazeb Orrelios, most notorious baby wrangler this side of the Outer Rim," he joked back, holding his hand out for Alex. The agent smirked in response as he took the offered hand, allowing Zeb to pull him out into the rain.

"Indeed, who would contest such a fearsome title?" he teased as Zeb pulled him in close, holding him against his chest with Arkalia cushioned firmly between them.

"They can contest all they want. It's mine," Zeb insisted, hoping to convey that he was talking about more than just the title. Alex seemed to understand him, amber eyes gazing up into his with a sort of uncertain longing.

You're mine, he tried to say with his eyes before capturing Alex's lips with his own, being as gentle as he knew how to be while still conveying the resolve of his claim. In its own ways, it was both like and unlike the first time they'd kissed, but he supposed some part of him would always be comparing the kisses they shared to that first intense moment of unbridled need.

X

They kept meeting.

Across worlds, across time and distance, they always seemed to come face to face, having to pretend to a hatred neither of them felt any longer in order to keep each other safe. But each time they clashed, it got harder and harder – harder not to try to explain, to express.

Zeb had known he no long hated Alexsandr Kallus. He had known that from the moment he'd heard the other man's voice break over his meager but heartfelt explanation for Lasan. He held just as many ugly feelings over it as Zeb himself did, even if they weren't the same ones. The former captain knew what he didn't feel, but what he did...that was a little harder to understand.

The thread of the Tinsahn was undoubtedly the most difficult he'd ever had to follow. At no point did he want to overstep his bounds on what they actually were to each other, especially since Kallus himself was unaware of his cultural hangups. It hadn't exactly been unheard of for a Bond to form between a Lasat and an offworlder, but it certainly would have been among the rarer cases were his people still around to have a say in things. But as he'd always been told, the Tinsahn was a connection beyond the physical, so the form his tinsana took didn't seem like it should matter.

So what were they? Friends? Comrades in arms? Brothers? No. There was a level of desire there that couldn't safely be contained in any of those types of relationships. He was fairly certain he'd never felt the urge to press any of his brothers in the guard up against a wall and kiss them until he had them whimpering. He'd imagined Kallus often enough, whenever he had a moment to himself – imagined the way that delicate human skin would feel against the rough pads of his own fingertips, or the way that controlled, straight-laced Imperial voice would sound, completely wrecked with pleasure...

But it was more than that, even. It was the earnestness in the former Imperial's eyes whenever he talked about seeing the Empire fall. It was the surety of his words when he spoke of what he owed the galaxy...what he owed Zeb. It was the unwavering set of his shoulders every time he went back to face the people who would execute him without hesitation if they were to learn what was really in his heart. It was in late night conversations and stolen radio frequencies. It was in the way Kal smiled at him when they weren't under the prying eye of a security cam...and in the way he could't help but smile back.

Okay, maybe he did know how he felt. He'd just been loath to put a name to it. His Tinsahn had taken form in the way it was going to and he knew he wouldn't have it any other way.

But what about Kal? Surely he hadn't misread the look in his eyes during that first fight? All the fights they'd had since? Was it possible he was only imagining the way their bodies seemed to just fit together every time they clashed, seeking to be closer? Desperate not to have to gaze at each other through the unyielding tangle of their bo-rifles?

After their last run with Hondo, after one brush with death too many, Garazeb Orrelios finally hit 'kriff it'. The next time he saw Kal, he was going to kriffing do something about this. It didn't matter what the circumstances were and he had no idea what he was actually going to do, but that had never stopped him before. He wasn't going to let it stop him this time.

As it so happened, their next run-in was during an assignment to Taris. And as always, when reinforcements arrived to back up the latest Imperial base's beleaguered forces, there he was – Kal leading a squad of troopers. His eyes widened briefly when he beheld him, but then his expression shifted easily into the practiced sneer of their performed skirmishes.

"And so we meet again, Lasat," the ISB agent declared in a theatrical tone as he engaged his bo-rifle. Zeb returned the smirk with a tiny lick of his lips, smoothly reconfiguring his own weapon.

"Been lookin' forward to it, agent," he said, drawing an exhilarated breath as Kal leapt into the fray.

Almost immediately, they were both lost in the dance of it, the visceral exchange of blows and sweat that was the only recourse they had. Zeb was barely aware of Ezra's assistance in keeping the rest of the troopers contained between himself and Kanan. The two youngest Spectres had some idea of what was going on between the two of them and he knew Kanan and Hera suspected, even though he hadn't laid it all out for them. But who knew? After today, he just might be able to tell them.

With no higher up to deceive, they didn't waste too much breath on feigned insults. They simply went at each other with everything they had, connecting in the only way they could. Zeb drew Kal away from the main fight, battling him down a side corridor before deftly switching to his rifle configuration and making absolutely certain there were no cams remaining to spy on them.

The action was enough to distract Kal for a moment, leaving him with a confused expression just long enough for Zeb to shift back to bo configuration and snare the other man's bo-rifle with his own. Zeb forced the weapon up against the wall behind Kal, effectively pinning the former Imperial's hands above his head. Then, in the heat and intensity of the moment, he surged forward into the human's personal space and pressed his lips fiercely against his.

The way Kal gasped into the kiss was intoxicating, sending a thrill of desire through the Lasat's entire body, ultimately pooling in his belly as liquid fire. Ashla, but he'd wanted this for far too long. He wished they could go on like this – just kissing and kissing and kissing.

"Oh, Zeb," Kal whispered against the corner of his mouth in the brief moment they took to breathe.

"Tell me how long you've wanted this," he returned in just as soft a voice, nipping at the man's jaw.

"I...ah...I...oh, stars," he moaned softly, voice nearly overshadowed by the sound of blaster fire, reminding them of their peril. Even then, the Lasat continued to trail kisses down onto the agent's neck. "Zeb...please...they'll see. They'll see."

"Karabast," the former guardsman growled low in his throat, knowing Kal was right.

"Once more," the former Imperial whimpered, body moving against Zeb's in spite of himself. "Just once more. Please."

Zeb was helpless to do anything but obey him, pressing into him to claim his lips one more time, as if he could press the memory of this moment onto that fragile human skin. But as he pulled back from Kal, leaving him stretching, reaching after the kiss, he mumbled softly against him, "Next time."

"Next time," the former Imperial agreed, the words somehow having become their custom.

They pulled apart just in time for a stormtrooper to be sent flying around the corner of the hallway, the only sight for him to see the pair of them engaged in bo-rifle combat once again, just as they always were.

X

Alex remembered that first kiss just as vividly, as he'd been dreaming of it ever since that first fight at the academy. Every one of the following ones had been like that as well – passionate, intense, and all too brief – right up until Zeb had greeted him on his approach to the Ghost. He hoped there would be more kisses like that, like this one they were sharing now in the pouring rain – slow and luxuriating, just reveling in the feel of being together. Though he didn't dare hope for too much, given the severity of his trespasses against the galaxy...this was nice. To stand together in the rain, breathing each other in and fleetingly dreaming of a life like this after the war.

It was nice.

They didn't pull away after the kiss had ended, just continued to hold each other, with Arkalia babbling in interest between the two of them.

"You know," Alex started after a time, "I think I should like to test my skill against you in the rain sometime."

Zeb chuckled quietly as he nuzzled the top of his head. "Is that all you ever think about? Trainin'?"

"A goodly amount, yes. Old habits and all, that sort of thing," he responded, tracing a hand up the side of Zeb's face.

"Yeah, we're gonna have to work on that. Just as soon as we get you clear of the Empire...when you come home for good."

"Home?" Alex found himself asking, his voice thick with uncertainty as he looked up at Zeb.

"Course. You belong with us. You know that...don't you?" the Lasat asked him, ears twitching, just on the verge of drooping as he looked down at him, something in his expression twisting with sadness.

The laugh Alex gave at that was bitter and pained. Looking down at the ground, he pulled a few steps back from Zeb. "Have I done enough? Will I ever be able to do enough...to deserve that?" he wondered aloud, wrapping his arms around himself as he withdrew.

"Hey, no," Zeb started, following his retreat as he moved back to the cover of the Ghost. "You can't make this about punishin' yourself."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" he found himself asking before he could stop. How was Zeb supposed to answer that question when even he couldn't? How was anyone supposed to answer it?

"Normally, I'd say you're supposed to do what you think is right, but it looks to me like you think it's right to punish yourself for somethin' you had no real control over."

"Not over the Empire, no, but over myself. I made a decision back then...to keep fighting for them. If I'd been any kind of decent, I would have walked away that day," he struggled to explain as he continued to pull away from Zeb, backing up until he hit the Ghost's ramp and he had nowhere to retreat to.

"So you're tellin' me that you were the only one there that day? You single-handedly wiped out the Lasat people?" Zeb asked him, a glare starting up on his face as he held Arkalia up. "'Cuz I got a kit, a beatin' heart, and a kriff ton of bad memories that say otherwise."

And only when put like that did his own hangups begin to sound just a touch ridiculous to the former Imperial. Exhaling loudly, he slowly sank down on the ramp, staring past Zeb, out into the rain. Faintly, he mumbled, "Well...at that, it begins to sound a little bit foolish."

"Maybe 'cuz it is," Zeb said as he sat down beside him. "You bein' there or not that day wouldn't have made a difference. Based on the information you had at the time, you thought you were doin' the right thing. Can't ask anymore than that."

Alex honestly wasn't certain how true that was, but Zeb swiftly cut off his argument by passing Arkalia to him. And like a balm to a wound, the kit's dribbling smile eased some long held pain in his chest, allowing him to breathe a little easier. As he cradled her small body against his, it gave him the courage to allow his thoughts to venture back to Lasan...back to memories he hadn't allowed himself to examine in years.

"Zeb," he began in a low voice, not looking at either of them at first, "there are things that happened on Lasan...things I've never told any other living soul about...things I didn't include in my reports. I think...before we can truly be us...that I need to tell you about Lasan...and I don't know if I have the strength to do it," he finished, absently stroking the fur on the back of Arkalia's neck. The affectionate gesture was met with a nuzzle to his own neck, which elicited a small smile from him.

"You do," Zeb said without hesitation, scooting that much closer to them, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I know you do. You're one of the strongest people I know. Might not be tonight, might not even be this month, but if you feel like it's somethin' you gotta do, you'll do it...and I'm here whenever you're ready."

Drawing in a deep breath, Alex nodded. Then he shifted Arkalia to a one-armed hold so he could take Zeb's much larger hand in his, lifting it to press the back of it to his cheek.

"It wasn't- long after Onderon," he began, still not looking at Zeb, just leaning into the press of their two hands. "The sector had become greatly unstable in the wake of the Clone Wars. We were deployed to...pacify...a growing uprising," he struggled to find the words, but before he could choke anymore of them out, he found himself overwhelmed again.

...a fellow soldier's head being torn off by a Lasat warrior...

...the shriek of the ion disruptor...the tears evaporating from the young Lasat's cheeks...

...the guardsman's face as he surrenders his bo-rifle with trembling hands...

"Ashla praise...for her child that dies and lives again...for this guardian, there is no end..."

...the certainty in the commander's eyes as she gives her orders...

"Do what you must. Fight for your Emperor!"

...a child's scream as he's torn from his mother...

"As many as can be secured. Her numbers are quite specific. She requires a ten percent genetic sampling."

"Why?"

"I honestly didn't ask."

Stupid, stupid, stupid! You knew better. Should've questioned...should've asked!

...the small moment of silence as the last proton cluster ignites...before everything vanishes in violence and white...

Alex gave a tiny, pained cry as the memories rushed through him. Curling in on himself, he attempted to pull away from Zeb, but the Lasat refused to release his hand. Instead, he wrapped his arm around him and pulled him securely against his side, riding out the storm with him while soothing both him and Arkalia. Neither of them said anything for a long while. Zeb just held him close while he remastered his own breathing.

"I...I can't," he said after a time. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Zeb reassured him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You don't have to say anythin' a moment before you're ready, and I'm prepared to wait for as long as it takes."

"Thank you," he returned softly, finally allowing the tension to ease from his body so he could just rest there in Zeb's arms, breathing in and out while they cradled Arkalia between them.

"Next time," Zeb said quietly, drawing a small laugh from the former Imperial's lips.

"Of course...next time," he said, the pair of them falling into a comfortable silence while Arkalia babbled on, singing the odd little baby tune that only she could seem to hear.

Alex had no idea just how long they all sat like that before a towel suddenly landed on his head.

"Yes, you're all sickeningly adorable," Hera's voice drifted to them down the ramp, her smile plain to be heard in her tone. "Now would you please dry that kit off before she catches cold?"

"Heheh, as you command, General," he answered, passing Arkalia to Zeb whilst he got himself disentangled from the towel. Between the two of them, they managed to get the little kit rubbed dry. "We should probably think about getting her to bed."

"Sure, just as soon as we get dried off. I'll let you have the 'fresher," Zeb said as he got to his feet, offering Alex a hand up.

"You really are too kind, Captain Orrelios," he said as he accepted the hand. They parted ways only reluctantly and Alex changed into dry clothes as quickly as he could, but he was still a little too late to see Arkalia off to sleep.

He was, in fact, a little too late to see both the Lasat off to sleep.

By the time he'd returned from the 'fresher, Zeb had already changed and fallen asleep on their bunk. This wouldn't have been in any way noteworthy...were it not for the fact that Arkalia was still with him.

The kit was curled into a little ball beneath the towel she'd been wrapped in, sound asleep on Zeb's chest, and Alex could safely say that, without exception, this was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. He was quickly seconded when Ezra came to the door of the small cabin to see the two Lasat curled up together.

"I...I didn't know Zeb could be cute," the young Jedi mumbled, on the verge of either laughing or crying. "My life is a lie."

Alex wasn't completely aware of when the rest of the crew sidled up to have a look at the devastatingly precious sight, but he did gradually come to hear their voices as they offered their input.

"You're never gonna let him live this down, are ya," Rex commented to Kanan.

"Never," the Jedi returned with a wicked curl of his lip.

"You're both horrible. Don't you dare make fun of him," Hera scolded them, though the entire exchange was all clearly in jest.

The series of whirs and clicks Chopper offered up actually seemed quiet when compared with his typical chatter. Was he...trying not to wake them?

"Nah," Kanan answered in response to the astromech's suggestion. "Nothing could wake Zeb from that deep a sleep."

Sabine made no comment on the tableau before them, simply passed Alex Arkalia's blanket before starting to snap away with her holo-capture.

Alex didn't think much on it before slipping quietly into the room, deftly exchanging the towel for the blanket. He could almost swear he was going into cardiac arrest with the way his heart was melting over the sight of the two Lasat. Unable to help himself, he bent down and dropped a kiss on Arkalia's head, then pressed another to Zeb's forehead.

I love you. I love you both.

"Okay, it's official," Sabine declared as she threw her hands in the air, voice still at half-whisper. "These dorks are actually trying to kill us with how karking adorable they are. General Syndulla, I request Captain Orrelios and Fulcrum be courtmartialed for attempted murder."

"Nope. It's murder," Ezra put in with a fond expression. "I'm dead. I'm legitimately dead over here."

"Hmm, request accepted," Hera said with a happy sigh. "The sentence for the murder, successful or otherwise, of your fellow shipmates is ship's arrest."

"I'm sorry. What?" Alex asked, unable to keep the confused smiled from his face as he looked at all of them.

"Means you'll be confined to the Ghost for a period of time to be determined by its captain," Rex explained, nodding at Hera.

"No, I know what it means, but-"

"Sentence to be carried out upon discharge of your duties as Fulcrum," the Twi'lek declared with an air of finality.

"I...I don't understand," he said, expression morphing from confused happiness to just confused.

"You're one of us," Kanan took up the explanation, nodding at him as he placed a hand on Hera's shoulder. "You've proven that countless times since you took up Ahsoka's work. Just as soon as you're quit of the Empire, you're on this crew for good – a Spectre. If that's what you want, of course."

Alex honestly had no idea what to say to that. For a moment, he felt a flare up of the guilt he'd experienced out in the rain, but he didn't allow it to overshadow Kanan's words. It was a little different to hear these things from the rest of the crew than it was to hear them from Zeb. To know that they actually wanted him here...it was almost more than his strictly regimented mind could handle.

"I...of course. Yes," he finally managed to make himself answer, looking at each of them in turn. "Thank you."

"Never thought I'd say this, but welcome to the family, Kallus," Ezra said, nodding at him with a smile.

Alex returned the nod with a smile of his own before looking back down at the sleeping Lasat, feeling his smile widen more than he'd ever thought possible. Part of him wished Zeb had been awake for this, but then, why would that have been necessary? The former guardsman had accepted him as family long before now. He would've just rolled his eyes and muttered something about what an idiot he was for thinking it had ever been otherwise.

"I- thank you...deeply...for such a welcome," he said with a helpless smile. "But I believe it's still going to end with me sleeping on the floor. I couldn't bear to disturb them."

"Don't even think about it," Hera scolded in her usual fashion. "Wild rancors couldn't wake Zeb up right now. Just be careful of Arkalia and you can climb right over him."

Alex eyed the pair nervously for a moment before deciding to give it a try. After all, would it really be so bad to be able to soothe Arkalia back to sleep if she were to wake? So, heeding Hera's advice and making certain not to jostle the kit, he climbed over Zeb's much larger body, his own easily fitting into the small sliver of space between him and the wall.

"And I'm with Ezra now," Sabine conceded with a sigh. "Dead. Dead and buried."

"Night everybody," Ezra said as he entered the bunk, climbing up into his own space.

It didn't take the others long to disperse to their own quarters, but Alex was already largely unaware of the world outside of the cozy little bunk, as Zeb had shifted in his sleep, moving to wrap an arm around him. Smiling in the dark, he leaned into Zeb, mouthing the words 'I love you' against his ear, not at all certain how any of them would feel about Ezra hearing those words before Zeb did. Unable to let go of his smile, he drifted off to sleep with the sound of Zeb's loud, even breathing in his ear and the feel of Arkalia's soft fur beneath his fingertips.

XxX

If anything could be said of Grand Admiral Thrawn, it was that he did not suffer ineptitude lightly. So when he overheard ineptitude being carried out upon his very own vessel, he was swift to correct it.

"Listen hear, ya fine, fancy suit. You people can't just go 'round offerin' rewards for information and then just not take tips seriously," a rough-edged voice sounded over the listening station he happened to be passing by at the time.

"My apologies, Sir, but as you can provide no other evidence as to the encounter other than your own visual testimony, we really cannot spare the resources to investigate your claim," the officer at the station snipped to the hologram on display over his station – a human male with an appearance to match the voice. Unless the Chiss had missed his best guess, he was wearing a vest made from a Wookiee's pelt. With such an openly barbaric display, the grand admiral was half-inclined to dismiss what he'd overheard anyway, but he was not about to let go the fact that something had caught his attention.

"I will be the judge of that, Ensign," Thrawn declared as he approached the station, seeing the holo image of the would-be informant throw off two stormtroopers in annoyance.

"Oh! G- Grand Admiral," the officer snapped out in surprise.

"What is the situation?" Thrawn asked, not much caring which of them answered.

"This bounty hunter claims to have seen a Lasat infant," the ensign told him.

"It's valuable information," the human said with an ugly sneer. "A few of your boys were out here on Alluria a week ago and they exterminated a pack of 'em."

"I am aware," the grand admiral informed him, his tone as even as ever. He had Agent Kallus' direct report on the incident already on record.

"Well, what I think happened is somebody must'a smuggled a kit out before everything went down."

"And what proof do you have of this child's existence?"

"I saw the little loth rat with my own eyes," the bounty hunter snapped back, sweeping his long black hair out of his eyes in frustration.

"You can hardly expect the Empire to render payment based on nothing more than the strength of your word, Mr.-"

"Kuross," the hunter supplied. "Giren Kuross. And no kriff I wasn't expectin' payment based on that. I figured you'd send somebody to check things out. After all, you boys can't have a Lasat walking around, can you."

"You give us virtually nothing to pursue, Kuross," Thrawn pointed out. "If you were, perhaps, to capture the child yourself, you would certainly be handsomely rewarded, but as it stands-"

"It happened on a public street!" Kuross shouted in outrage. "You tryin' to tell me your punks don't have access to security cams?"

Not security cams, no...but perhaps another avenue of information was still available to him.

"Agent Kallus is still on assignment in the Allurian System, is he not?" he asked the ensign.

"I- yes...Sir. Yessir. He was in pursuit of insurgents who escaped the action on Alluria."

Interesting. "And has he reported in recently?"

He had little doubt the ensign was on the verge of answering 'yes' out of habit, but when the man actually checked his records, it was to find that, "No. Agent Kallus hasn't reported in for...two days, Sir."

Very interesting. It would be too much of a coincidence for these two events to happen so near to each other and not be connected somehow – Agent Kallus on assignment on Alluria and reports of a Lasat child on the same planet – especially given Alexsandr Kallus' particular history with the Lasat people. Had the ISB agent heard rumor of a Lasat survivor and headed off to pursue his own revenge vendetta? He didn't think so. Kallus was far too disciplined for such rash actions. But if that wasn't the connection, then what was?

"Congratulations, Giren Kuross. It seems you may get your investigation after all," Thrawn told the bounty hunter before cutting the connection.

"Sir?" the ensign queried, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hail Agent Kallus. Something is not aligning in all this and we are going to figure out what that something is."

XxX

Alex was starting to get worried.

The storm systems moving through these last few days had prevented him from leaving his usual ruse reports and the Spectres had flat out refused to let him take off in the stuff. It was only in the last few hours that the weather had finally cleared. He had every intention of heading back to his shuttle to make his reports...just as soon as dinner was finished...just as soon as Arkalia was fed.

Excuses, excuses.

Every last thought in his brain ran dry when his comlink signaled him of an incoming transmission, and his blood ran cold within his veins when he saw the name at the other end of the frequency.

Thrawn.

Chapter Text

"It's Thrawn," Alex said in response to the question no one had asked, but that was plainly hanging in the air.

"Aw, karabast," Zeb snarled, running a hand over his face.

"Can you just...ignore it?" Ezra wondered, the tone of his voice saying that he already knew the answer.

"If I don't respond to the hail, another agent will be dispatched to my last known location. And if they weren't suspicious before, they surely would be at that. I'm still- out of uniform. They will be suspicious either way. Who am I fooling?" he mumbled, more to himself at the last.

"Well...I guess we have to go with my plan, then," Kanan said with a capricious smirk.

"And what plan is that?" Hera asked with a suspicious lift of her eyebrow.

"Ransom."

"And how, exactly, would we work ourselves out of that one?" Alex pressed. "They would never pay for my return. The Empire doesn't operate like that."

"They don't have to pay to get you back, not in credits, at least," the knight told him.

"What do you mean?"

"I have an idea. We're just gonna have to go with it. They're gonna need a more convincing excuse for your radio silence than static interference."

"I'm still- not sure about this," the former Imperial said haltingly. "The grand admiral will not be easily deceived."

"Have you got something else?"

"Well...no, but-"

"You've been deceivin' him these last few months, haven't you?" Rex pointed out. "Just keep doin' what you've been doin'."

Well, he wasn't wrong. Alex supposed it was just difficult to explain to someone who had never gone toe to toe with the grand admiral. But from what he'd learned from his training days, and even more so in his time since becoming Fulcrum, the key to pulling off any kind of deception successfully was to find the grain of truth concealed within it. There would be no lie in attempting to conceal fear. That would be completely genuine, if not quite in the way Thrawn might think.

But would it be enough?

"All right," he agreed before he could talk himself out of it, passing his comlink to Kanan. "Do we actually have a plan?"

"Eh, no more so than usual," the Jedi said with a shrug. "Hera, I want you to take Ari to your quarters. We need to keep her out of this as much as possible."

"Don't want me to handle negotiations?" the Twi'lek asked as she came to retrieve the kit from Alex.

"No. It's better if your 'underlings' handle this. It needs to look more spur of the moment than it is."

"This isn't spur of the moment? Really?" Alex deadpanned as he handed Arkalia over.

"Nope. This is our version of a plan," Ezra answered.

"No wonder I could never figure you out. All of my calculations and projections were built upon the base assumption that you were all competent, predictable soldiers," Alex told them, grinning despite the sour tone of his voice. "But, as it turns out, you're all just really, really lucky."

"Hey, I'd rather be lucky than good any day," Sabine put in. He wasn't sure when she'd retrieved her helmet, but there she was sporting it, just the same.

I suppose we'll find out how true it is.

"Rex, think you could manage a black eye?" Kanan asked the clone. Rex glanced sideways at Alex with a snicker.

"I don't think that'd be too hard."

"Just want it understood you're gettin' a wallop from me later," Zeb put in with a grunt.

"Oh?" Rex asked, raising an eyebrow in the Lasat's direction. "Would this be easier if you did it, then?"

"We are not asking Zeb to punch his SO," Hera scolded as she carried Arkalia onto the Ghost.

"So it's all right for you all to rough me up in the interest of acting, but it's not all right for me to do it to myself?" Alex clarified.

"Yeah, now you're startin' to get the idea," Zeb jibed.

"Honestly...I think I'd prefer if you did it," he said to the Lasat, glancing up at him with a small look of pleading. The look Zeb gave in return was mildly uncertain.

"You...you sure?"

"Positive," he returned, steeling himself for the blow.

"All right," Zeb started, rolling his shoulders and giving his neck a showy crack, "but I'm gonna owe you a couple thousand kisses for this one."

"See me afterwards, Captain Orrelios. We can arrange a payment plan," he answered with a teasing smile, arms held wide, completely open for the hit.

"I'm sorry."

Despite the pain, Alex was relieved when Zeb gave him no more warning than that, getting it over with quickly. He stumbled back several feet, the pain of the hit thundering through his head, but he managed to stay upright. He did his best to contain any signs of pain, but he couldn't entirely help the small, pained grunt when the Lasat's fist connected with his face.

Zeb was by his side the instant it was over, taking him in his arms and brushing the loose hair back from his face to examine his eye. Alex couldn't guess what he saw, but whatever it was, Zeb breathed a sigh of relief before pressing a gentle kiss to the now throbbing skin.

"Gonna take a few minutes to show. Should give us just enough time to get set up."

"Thank you," Alex whispered against him, lifting his face up to catch Zeb in a brief kiss.

Zeb gave a small laugh as he looked down at him. "First time I've ever been thanked for a shiner. First time for everythin', I guess."

"Indeed," Alex returned with a small smile. "We shall have to see that the next first is more pleasant."

"That a promise I'm hearin', agent?" Zeb asked with a smirk that had a hint of something feral to it.

"Y'know, I'd tell you to get a room, but...that'd kinda leave me without one for the night," Ezra said with a grimace.

"We can worry about that later. We need to get up to the bridge," Kanan reminded them, leading the way back onto the ship. The trek was made in silence, which did nothing for Alex's nerves, just allowing time and focus for his worries to creep back in on him. When they finally arrived up on the bridge, he could hardly keep the tremor from his voice as he spoke.

"So how are we going to do this?"

"On your knees, Imperial," Zeb was suddenly growling in his ear and, all in an instant, he was right back in the thick of one of their performances, battling against the Lasat with the intent of being closer to him, discovery and death no more than a heartbeat away. Uncertain how a moment could be at once terrifying and yet so thrilling, Alexsandr Kallus dropped to his knees without thought, not even questioning when Zeb slipped a pair of binders around his wrists.

"Now I want the rest of you guys to keep back," Kanan advised them as he readied the still-beeping comm device. "I wanna try and get this sorted out on my own."

"But Kanan, just what is it you plan on asking them for?" Sabine hissed at him.

"You'll find out," he said right before activating the communication. A holographic image of Grand Admiral Thrawn instantly flickered into being above the device.

"Agent Kallus, I trust you have a fitting explanation for your whereabouts these last few days," the smooth voice of the grand admiral came over the line.

"Admiral-" Alex tried to call out, but was swiftly interrupted by a snarl from Zeb.

"Quiet, you Imperial dog!"

"Oh, he has an explanation," Kanan took up the conversation just as smoothly. "I believe I have the...honor of addressing Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Seventh Fleet."

The Chiss' red eyes narrowed for a moment as he surveyed the Jedi, but his expression quickly returned to neutral. "You are the Jedi of Spectre Cell, then. Kanan Jarrus, was it?"

"Yes, it was. And I'd say your agent's got a very fitting explanation for his whereabouts, seeing as how he's been resisting interrogation. You'd have been very proud of Agent Kallus here. He's withstood very well."

"Not surprising. Our ISB agents are trained to withstand interrogation, after all. Not so different from the Jedi, I believe."

Kanan's shoulders stiffened minutely at the grand admiral's words and Alex imagined that, if he could have, he would've been glaring at Thrawn. In this case, though, the lack of expression would likely work to his advantage. When he spoke again, it was with an evenness that nearly matched the Chiss' own. "Believe what you want, Thrawn, but I have yet to meet an Imperial who could truly comprehend what a Jedi is capable of, much less live up to it."

"As you will, Master Jedi, but as you are doubtless aware, the Empire does not strike bargains with criminals. If you had intended to bargain with this man's life, I will save you the embarrassment. Agent Kallus is a valuable asset, it is true. Humans of his caliber are difficult to find and an investment to train, but he is not...irreplaceable. He knows this," the grand admiral said, gaze shifting from Kanan down to Alex. His only acknowledgement of the Chiss' statement was a small nod of understanding.

I know it. I know it too well.

"Oh, I'm aware. Believe me, he's been talking my ear off about your policies. If I didn't know better, I'd say the man wanted me to kill him," Kanan said, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. "But here's the thing. I really don't have to threaten his life for him to be a threat to you."

The grand admiral remained silent for several long moments, his face unreadable, before he finally came back with a single, simple demand.

"Explain."

"There's no point in killing him, except in maybe the satisfaction there'd be one less Imperial walking around. As it stands, he's of more use to us alive. You, on the other hand, might prefer him dead."

"And why is that?" the Chiss asked when Kanan didn't immediately elaborate.

"Everyone has a breaking point. Even Agent Kallus. And when we come to that point, just imagine what sort of secrets we could get on the inner workings of the Empire."

At this, Alex was almost surprised to see a shift in the grand admiral's expression. Not anything of concern, of course. This was Thrawn, after all, but any change in expression at all was verging on the miraculous. And in this case, it was a simple lift of the eyebrows, perhaps in interest over the tactic.

"Agent Kallus is not highly placed enough to be able to hand you anything of any value, even if you do manage to break him."

"He's high enough," Kanan said firmly, and in the tone of his voice, Alex heard the words the Jedi wasn't saying – that Thrawn would never perceive. Agent Alexsandr Kallus might not have been much in the eyes of the Empire, but he was enough – enough to ultimately bring their glorious new order crashing down around their ears. It was a testament to him, and despite his fear, he couldn't help but feel somewhat warmed by Kanan's regard. "I think you know that."

"All right, Kanan Jarrus, you have my attention," Thrawn said, his tone shifting from simply cool to a level of frosty Alex was unused to hearing from him. "What is it you would demand in exchange for my agent?"

"Nothing you'd be unwilling to give, I think. All I want is information on a certain bounty hunter."

The shift to confusion among the rest of the crew was palpable in the air. Even Alex had no idea what the Jedi was playing at at this point. Just what was Kanan after?

Thrawn's only reaction was a slight widening of the eyes. "Really? You would give up all that you could gain from Agent Kallus for nothing more than information on one being?"

"It's an equivalent exchange, Admiral. Let's just say that this is very, very important to me," Kanan declared, voice dropping marginally lower in challenge.

"Admiral, don't deal with this rebel scum," Alex snarled, figuring he shouldn't pass this entire exchange in unquestioning silence. "I won't break; I swear it! I- ach!" he was cut off by a tiny, pained cry when Zeb jerked his head harshly to the side.

"That's enough from you," the Lasat said warningly.

"Who is it you would ask information on, Jedi?" Thrawn pressed Kanan, plainly not in the mood for games.

"What can you tell me about a hunter with the surname Kuross?"

The name meant nothing to Alex, but it seemed to mean something to the grand admiral, as his right eyebrow rose sharply upon hearing it.

"It is of interest to me, Kanan Jarrus, that you would pose this question today of all days. Because you see, before today I would not have known the name. It has only recently come to my attention."

"In what way?"

"In the form of a tip that reached my vessel from the Allurian System," he told them, leaving room for his words to sink in. "A bounty hunter by the name of Giren Kuross filed a complaint that he had spotted a Lasat kit on the streets of Trion City."

Alex felt his blood run cold.

Giren.

That name he did know – the man who had threatened them back on Alluria. He'd been foolish enough to believe that the run-in was just that, an incident that was over and done with. Only now it seemed Giren Kuross really had gone through the local authorities, and now Arkalia might be in even more danger because of his mistake.

The former Imperial was only brought back to the present moment by the strength of Zeb's grip on his shoulder.

"If I may, Master Jedi, why is it you seek information on this man?"

"That's not part of the negotiation," Kanan hissed back. "This is a one-way street. Kallus for what you know. Now what do you have on Giren Kuross?"

"The number of coincidences piling up in this incident were becoming quite staggering, so I've had Kuross' record called up. He is a native Melida and it seems he rose to underworld prominence during the Clone Wars for being more hunter than bounty hunter. He contracted with wealthy Coruscanti to hunt for them alien 'trophies'. It seems he makes little distinction between sentient and non. He was brought up on charges for at least fifty counts of murder by the war's end. But then the previous regime collapsed and Kuross' skills became useful to the Empire, so the charges against him were dropped."

"And now? What is he up to these days?"

"Well, with the Wookiees pacified and the Lasat largely extinct," Thrawn continued, though his gaze briefly flicked to Zeb, drawing a low growl from the former guardsman, "Kuross appears to contract almost exclusively with Black Sun at the moment. He has not been known to be greatly active of late, but I can see where the company you keep would draw some concern over whether that status were to change. Was the man correct in his belief that beings of interest to him escaped the action on Alluria?" the Chiss asked at the last, his manner having shifted back to his typical level of control.

Kanan shook his head. "One way street, Admiral. The only thing you're getting from this exchange is your agent. But I do have one more question regarding Kuross. Does he have any ties to Manaan?"

"I should think so, given that many of his listed clients avail themselves of the capital city's many luxury amenities. I would ask why this is of interest to you, but by now I know what answer I shall receive. Is this sufficient for your purposes?" the grand admiral asked with a fresh narrowing of his eyes.

"It is."

"And will you be releasing Agent Kallus, as per your word?"

"I will be. I'm not one to go back on my word. Well...not lightly anyway," the knight added, a slight twist of his lips the only indication of his typical attitude. "But I'm doing it in my own way. So I wouldn't recommend sending any pesky detachments our way. If you do, the deal's off. Kallus'll be in touch in another rotation," he finished before cutting the connection.

Every single one of them breathed a sigh of relief as they slumped out of the tenseness with which they'd all been holding themselves.

"Kanan," Sabine began as she slipped her helmet off, "that was either the single ballsiest thing you've ever done, or the craziest."

"Yeah, that tends to happen a lot on this ship," the Jedi said with a pained laugh. "Only...Kallus, why didn't you tell us somebody had seen Arkalia?"

"I truly didn't believe he had," Alex explained as Zeb freed him from the binders, helping him back to his feet. "There was no way he saw me; my face was too well-concealed. But Arkalia, it- it couldn't have been anymore than a paw he glimpsed, certainly not enough to file an official report."

"And lucky for us it wasn't, otherwise there'd be a fresh detachment already here. From what I can tell about Kuross, he's obsessed. Even the slightest resemblance to his prey of choice and he'll pursue it," Kanan said.

"What was all that stuff about Kuross and Manaan anyway?" Ezra asked his master. "Have you two met before?"

Kanan shook his head. "I haven't met him before...but I know him. I know his type. It was something I saw...when I was out with Ari the other day."

"Wait, you had a vision?" Ezra pressed him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Later, Ezra," the Jedi scolded mildly. "Right now, I think we need to help Kallus work up a timeline for these last couple days so all the stories line up."

Sabine, Ezra, and Chopper all began to chatter eagerly amongst themselves as they headed in the direction of the common room, already planning the epic battle that had supposedly happened between the rebels and the ISB agent. Rex eyed the three men a moment before following after them.

"You all right?" Zeb was suddenly murmuring in his ear, the soft nearness of his breath tickling pleasantly against Alex's face.

"Of course," he said as he twined their fingers together, raising their two hands between them before pressing a tender kiss to the corner of the Lasat's mouth. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For staying by my side. For sticking with me through this madness. For punching me when the need arises," he returned with a small laugh.

"Hey, it's gonna take more than creepy grand admirals and crazy bounty hunters to scare me off," Zeb promised, grinning as he nuzzled his face against Alex's cheek.

"Zeb, you can go on ahead. I want to talk to Alexsandr alone real quick," Kanan interrupted before their display could progress much farther.

Zeb's gaze darted between them a moment before he ultimately shrugged. "Don't let him scare you," he said to Alex, pressing one last kiss to his lips before heading after the earlier procession.

"So what was it Ezra meant about visions?" Alex finally asked as he turned his full attention back to the Jedi.

"It's difficult to explain," Kanan answered with a sigh. "The visions we receive through the Force...the things we see...some things are certain, but other things...most things...it's impossible to know. Fate's not carved out in stone. The future can turn on the smallest thing. Even I didn't understand a lot of what I saw because I had no context for it."

"But- what you did see...it involved this Giren Kuross somehow?" Alex pressed.

"Some of it."

"Then was it a mistake? For me not to engage him when I could have? Not to eliminate him?"

Again, Kanan sighed. "I can't tell you that. There's no way I could make that kind of judgement based on the flicker of a future that may not even happen."

"Will he hurt them?" Alex demanded fervently, knowing he didn't need to tell Kanan what he meant.

Kanan crossed his arms over his chest, shoulders slumping minutely in defeat. "I can't speak for Arkalia, but if this future remains unchanged, then he will hurt Zeb."

Alex sneered as he looked to the floor, even though he didn't really need to look away from the Jedi. "Then perhaps it's time for the hunter to become the hunted."

"You can't do that," Kanan warned him, his absent gaze still somehow bearing so much weight. "This man still contracts with the Empire. How would you explain your sudden animosity?"

"You've been working with Zeb and the young ones too long, Kanan. There are more subtle ways of dealing with problems," Alex pointed out, and despite the growing hate he could feel for this man he'd seen all of once, he was still unnerved by the strengthening cold in his own voice.

"Oh, I get that, but how do you know removing Giren Kuross from the equation won't make things worse?" Kanan reminded him, moving in close until he could rest a hand on his shoulder. "You can't base choices like this on a vision. If what I saw does happen, it's nothing Zeb can't handle."

"You're certain?" he asked, looking back up at Kanan, even though the knight wouldn't know it.

"Yes. He can handle a lot. You just have to trust him."

Alex gave a long sigh at that, remaining silent for several moments before nodding. "Well...that much I know I can do. I would've been dead long ago if I couldn't trust him. Though, I suppose I should ask what's important about Manaan. You did take a terrible risk in letting Thrawn know of your interest in the place."

"I know I did, but for that one I can't say with any certainty. I only know that something may happen there. And if it does, I'm going to give you the advance warning to watch yourself. I don't want Zeb tearing his fur out."

To him, then. Something was going to happen to him on Manaan. Well, he could be careful. He would just have to be discreet in trying to learn if there was anything on the inner rim world worth the Rebellion's time.

"Of course, well...I should be getting ready to leave. I would hate to cause you all any more trouble than I already have."

"Nope, nope. Don't give me that. I bought you one last night and you're going to use it. Head down and plot with the others. Hera and I'll be along."

"All right," Alex conceded, knowing he was hearing something significant in the knight's voice, but not sure what that something was. He would have to mention it to Zeb later.

Just as soon as Kallus was out of sight, Kanan made his way down to Sabine's room. He knew Hera had seen him go by on her way out of her quarters, so she wasn't going to be all that far behind, and indeed, by the time he'd reached Arkalia's cradle, he could feel the Twi'lek's warm, steady presence no more than a meter or so behind him.

"The ruse went well, I take it," she said as she stepped further into the room, the sounds of Arkalia contentedly chewing on some toy or other accompanying her movements.

"Definitely did," he said as he laid a hand down on Sabine's latest masterpiece, letting his fingers glide over the now familiar painted lines. "Thrawn shouldn't ask too many questions. Though I did have to run the risk of putting both him and Kallus on the scent of Manaan."

"Well...whatever it is, you did say Alex would come through it all right. Didn't you?" she asked as she came to stand beside him, the only one so far who knew about the specifics of his visions in the forest.

"Yes, but that could change. Too easily. And if it ends up being me who put him on that path...I don't know if I could forgive myself...if Zeb could forgive me," he said, briefly gripping the cradle frame in painfully tight hands.

"You did what you had to today," Hera soothed him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "No one can ask more than that. Alex would understand. So would Zeb...given time."

"Ah la la," Arkalia babbled in a way that almost said to the Jedi that she agreed with his captain – his love. Then, with a particularly energetic squeal, she reached over to lay a single soft paw beside Hera's hand and, in that moment, with both their hands resting on him and his own resting on the cradle, Kanan was stricken with another moment of sight.

He was standing in Sabine's room, but it wasn't the current moment. The flicker of a gaze around the room told him there were new paintings among the young Mandalorian's myriad of works. Among them, he was happy to see a small cartoon-like image of Zeb and Kallus with Arkalia's smiling face just beneath them. There was a particularly striking portrait of Rex and Ahsoka just above her door, but before the Jedi could examine it in any detail, his eyes were drawn to the cradle still in the room.

Of course, he couldn't help but take in every detail of the tiny bed that Sabine had so lovingly painted to store away in his heart, but what most captured his gaze was the cradle's current occupant.

A baby boy slept soundly within the cradle. Beneath the hood of his loth cat pajamas, Kanan could just glimpse a swatch of emerald green hair. The baby yawned widely before blinking awake, a pair of striking crystal blue eyes gazing up at him – eyes he found himself thinking looked eerily familiar.

Whose child was this? If he was the next occupant of Arkalia's cradle, he belonged to one of the Spectres, but it wasn't the eyes of any of his shipmates he recognized in the little boy. Was he Sabine's son? With the green hair, it wouldn't surprise him, but it wasn't her eyes looking up at him from the cradle – and those eyes were looking at him. Despite the impossibility of it, there was no mistaking their gaze.

"Can you...see me?" he wondered faintly, reaching a hand down to stroke the air just beside the baby boy's cheek. If he was strong with the Force...maybe Ezra's son?

No.

Before he could think on it any further, the baby suddenly burst out in a yowling fit, crying as if the universe were coming to an end. Almost immediately, none other than Alexsandr Kallus swept into the room.

"It's all right. It's all right. I've got it," he called over his shoulder before moving to scoop the squalling baby into his arms. "Jacen, what's the matter?"

He wasn't in Imperial dress anymore and he seemed to have let his hair grow out a bit. He smiled easily as he cradled the baby boy against his chest, rocking him gently.

"We're fine. We're fine," he repeated several times, beginning to walk the length of the room, dropping several kisses on top of the little boy's head. "I know I'm not your mother, but I promise she'll be back tonight. You're fine," he continued to soothe, and after a time, when Jacen still wouldn't settle, he began to sing the Lasana lullaby that Zeb would apparently teach him the words to.

Kanan couldn't explain it. This was a precious sight. By rights, he should've felt his heart warmed by it. Only he didn't.

He felt sorrow. A hollowing, aching sadness gripped at his heart as he watched Kallus with the baby. An anguish he couldn't in any way account for clawed viciously at his chest, desperate for release. When he was thrust violently back into darkness, it was to find himself on his knees beside the cradle, hands gripping desperately at the sides as his body trembled.

"Kanan!" Hera had been calling to him in worry. "Kanan, what is it? Are you all right? Why are you crying?"

Crying? Had he been? Of course. Just because he couldn't shed tears didn't mean he couldn't cry. And as he took stock of himself, it was to find his throat tight and his chest heaving with the struggle of not letting too much noise escape.

"I...I don't know," he only just managed to choke the words out before a fresh wave of low, guttural sobs seized at him, his shoulders shaking fiercely with every ragged breath he drew.

Hera didn't press anymore than that. Still holding Arkalia in one arm, she pulled Kanan into her other arm, holding him close against her breast and just letting him cry. While she ran her fingers through his hair, she murmured soothing nothings to him in her own language. After a time, she slipped his mask off and began to press kisses to his temple and the top of his head. When he'd finally cried himself out, he just let himself rest in her embrace, his breathing gradually returning to normal.

"You're too good to me...my captain," he said softly, briefly raising his head to meet one of her kisses. Hera laughed quietly into the gentle press of lips.

"I can't pretend to understand all of what you and Ezra go through, but I can at least be here for you," she said, their heads coming to rest easily together.

"Ar raaaa," Arkalia trilled eagerly, the sudden motion against Hera's side telling Kanan that the kit was squirming.

"Oh. Heheh, I think she wants you, love," the pilot said with a small giggle.

Kanan said nothing, just smiled and held out his arms for the baby girl, the smile widening as she quickly curled herself up against his chest. He didn't know who the cradle's next occupant would be, but maybe that didn't matter so terribly much just now. Their little family already had a perfectly wonderful, perfect handful of a kit to look after right now. The future would come in its own time, and when Arkalia reached up to tug on his beard, he found himself thinking he might just need the extra time to prepare for it.

XxX

Kanan and Hera hadn't returned to the others until Kanan had felt completely in control of himself once more. Once all of the plotting had been taken care of, the rest of the evening was passed in calm and quiet, which was somewhat unusual for the little family, but none of them were exactly complaining. Once the others had all gone to bed, the Jedi and the pilot retired to Hera's quarters for the night.

They maintained separate rooms out of habit, and they passed the nights in each other's quarters only about half the time, but Hera found herself wondering if it might not become a more permanent situation when Alex joined their crew for keeps. After all, Ezra had long been needing his own space and she had no doubt it wouldn't take long for Zeb and Alex to want a space to themselves. But thoughts of her little family were soon far and away when Kanan began to ease her clothing from her body, pressing a kiss to every centimeter of her suddenly too hot and tingling skin he revealed.

He made love to her gently that night. Theirs was a love life that ran the gamut from the straightforward to the hot and heavy. They'd even been known to dabble in a little role play and the occasional bit of bondage play when they'd been able to get the time alone. Tonight was gentle, though – gentle and simple. The pair of them moving together in perfect unison on Hera's bed until the light of the stars burst between them, leaving them gasping in each other's arms.

Though they sometimes talked afterward, they didn't tonight. Just held each other until Kanan fell asleep in her arms, head resting upon the sheen of sweat on her breast. Hera herself didn't feel sleepy, though, so after an hour or so of attempting to fall asleep, she eased herself from Kanan's embrace, leaving him lying deep asleep on her bed. She couldn't quite help but enjoy the perfect display of his sculpted chest and arms as she slipped into her sleep pants and top. Though she'd had her tongue on those muscles hardly more than an hour ago and they were nearly as familiar to her as her own, she still sometimes found herself struck with the giddiness of a school girl with a crush at the thought of just how beautiful this man, her knight, really was.

Shaking her head at herself, she slipped out of the room, enjoying the shift from the still-heated, humid air of her quarters to the much cooler air of the rest of the ship. Making her way to the rest of the crew quarters, she was happy to find that Sabine's room wasn't sealed for the night. Entering quietly, she wasn't entirely surprised to find Sabine sound asleep, but Arkalia wide awake, actually sitting up on her own in the cradle.

Wondering if this was the first time the kit had done this, Hera offered her a tilted smile before coming to lift her from the cradle. Arkalia gave several contented purrs as Hera carried her from the room, closing the door behind her before making her way up to the bridge.

Chopper beeped at her from where he was plugged into his charging station.

"Couldn't sleep," she offered up as she moved to sit in her pilot's chair with Arkalia cradled easily in her arms. "And it looks like I wasn't the only one."

Chopper's dome spun in a circle several times as he gave his typical series of very low whirrs, making it quite plain what he was talking about.

"Yes. A very good time," she replied with a laugh and a very pointed smirk. Chopper responded with a higher pitched whistle. "No, you won't need to do any extra cleanup this time."

Chopper shifted about in the station, tapping at the Ghost's hull with a manipulator arm.

"I can't imagine they'd want you to, Chop. Besides, I'm pretty sure Zeb can handle his own post-coital grooming. And Alex, well...I really just can't imagine him as anything less than perfectly groomed."

To that, the little astromech almost seemed to vibrate, beeping several times in put upon annoyance.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but Alex is just as hot for it as the rest of us sticky organics. I really don't know how to explain it to you. I guess the closest I can come is that it's a bit like when you get zapped by an overloaded circuit. I've heard you say you enjoy that sometimes. It's that moment just before it's too much, before it's painful," she mused.

Chopper's warbling reached a very clearly annoyed pitch as he deployed both manipulators in a distinct 'Maker give me strength' fashion.

"Yeah," Hera agreed with a distant smile as she looked down at Arkalia. "I guess that is pretty typical organic, but unlike droids, we aren't just put together on an assembly line. Making organic beings is a whole lot...messier," she said, jiggling the smiling baby.

That one earned a series of whistles from the droid before he detached from his station entirely, trundling over to stand at her side.

"No, they didn't, but somebody had to," she said, chucking the kit under the chin. "Somebody put this cute little ball of fluff together. I'm pretty sure those two would if they could. Maybe they'll look into something...when the fighting's done," she said quietly, her voice slowly drifting off. It was a nice thought, but she honestly wasn't sure she believed there was a time when the fighting was done.

Chopper gave several more whirrs as he rolled into Hera's more direct line of sight, his antenna swinging in several loops before pointing at Arkalia.

"What? Me and Kanan?" she returned with a bemused yet thoughtful look, her gaze slowly shifting back down to the kit. "I don't know. I never gave it much thought before. Sabine and Ezra were already enough of a handful."

Arkalia trilled pleasantly as Hera offered her a finger to chew on. She gripped the pilot's hand with both of her tiny paws, holding tightly while she chewed with her stubby milk teeth. Hera really couldn't help her own grin at the sight of the baby's smile, but there was also a grain of sadness budding behind that grin.

"It just- seems like the opposite of what you want to do," she said, suddenly struggling to keep the smile in place. "Bring such a tiny, helpless thing into the galaxy when you're living so rough...when any rotation really could be your last. What kind of life is that for a child?"

Chopper's single, medium-ranged warble wasn't accompanied by any other noise or movement, and Hera couldn't even pretend not to have understood it.

It was your life.

"I know it was," she said in mild exasperation, fighting to get her expression back to a more neutral place. "Don't you think I want to be able to give my children better than my parents were ever able to give me? Before Kanan, I- I didn't even think I'd ever want children. I saw what it did to my mother...losing Bek," she said, sharply cutting off the memory of the tiny child whose lekku had never even had a chance to grow in. When a few tears escaped her eyes, she had to take her hand back from Arkalia to wipe them away. "Is it worth it?" she asked, more of herself than of the two beings who couldn't really answer her. "Is it worth the risk of that kind of pain...just to see a baby smiling up at you?"

Chopper had no answer to offer, but he did roll a little closer to her, laying a manipulator over the hand that was nervously flitting about the baby Lasat in a quest for something, anything, that she could improve for her. But there was nothing. Arkalia was perfectly happy, smiling up at her as she grabbed her fingers in her tiny paws. With Chopper finally convincing her to calm down and Arkalia offering her nothing but pure, uninhibited joy, there was really only one answer to her question.

"Yes. I guess it is. It must be," she said with a small laugh, letting a few more of her tears fall freely as Arkalia cooed up at her.

Thoughts of her mother had called back memories for the pilot, memories of some of the songs she used to sing. Thinking up the words to one of them, she softly began to sing to the little kit, adding to the growing collection of lullabies they had for her.

Dream by night

Wish by day

Love begins this way

Loving starts when open hearts

Touch and stay

Sleep for now

Dreaming's how

Lovers' lives are planned

Future songs and flying dreams

Hand in hand

Love, it seems

Made flying dreams

So hearts could soar

Heaven sent

These wings were meant

To prove once more

That love is the key

By the time she'd finished singing, Arkalia had drifted off to sleep, a peaceful smile lighting her feline features. She'd become aware of Kanan's presence on the bridge somewhere in the middle of the song, so when she dropped a kiss on Arkalia's forehead she wasn't at all surprised to feel his arms slipping around them.

"I think we've all been surprised lately...to learn what good singers we are," he said as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Maybe starting a choir isn't so far off the mark. Did I wake you?"

"Not so much you as the lack of you. Bed's too big without you. Think you've finally talked everything out enough to get some sleep yourself?" he asked.

"Probably, though I can't help but notice your bare arms wrapped around me right now," she pointed out. "I really hope you put pants on to come looking for me. The young ones have been traumatized enough this week."

"Well...that's just something you'll have to find out when you stand up."

XxX

The first thing he becomes aware of is that he can't move.

The taste of ash and blast residue is heavy on his tongue, tinged with the unsettling copper tang of blood. His first instinct is to call out, but he immediately resists. There might still be hostiles in the area. But- what about the others? The boys? Kuron? Anasch? Are they all right? What's happening?

His breath catches in his throat when he hears a scream echo through the trees, quickly dying away into a hideous gurgling sound. Trance! That was Trance!

He struggles to turn his head toward the sound, but he can barely even manage that. What his eyes finally behold through the smoke and the fire is a sight he knows he will never forget.

The Lasat.

He's the one – the mercenary they've been searching for. He'd taken them completely by surprise. And now...now...

The first figure the Lasat stops at is barely recognizable, face mangled and bathed in blood. It's more a mercy when the Lasat shoots him through the head.

Tenar.

The Lasat continues on, calmly and silently, to the next of the downed soldiers. Alex can see the blood-matted shock of blonde hair that signifies it's one of the girls – Anasch. When she tries to move, to crawl away, the mercenary raises a single prehensile foot and slams it down on her chest, pinning her to the dirt.

"No...no...oh, stars, please! " she begs for her life at the end, fingers desperately but ineffectually clawing at that monstrous foot. A single shot finishes off the youngest member of his squad.

Forcing his arm up past agony and injury, he draws his comlink up to his mouth.

"K- Kuron? Orha? Do you- copy? " he grinds out, struggling to remain conscious. If he passes out again, he's dead.

But the Lasat seems not to hear him. He continues his unperturbed trek through the flames toward his next victim. Alex can't make them out, can't see who's in the creature's sights.

"Kuron! Orha! Please ...please respond," he begs. They're all that's left.

When the Lasat comes upon the next soldier, he's too injured to try to escape. Orha raises the only hand he has left, pleading.

"Mercy...mercy...please..."

But there is no mercy in this creature. He only snarls gleefully as he sends several rounds of superheated plasma through Orha's chest.

"Sergeant...I copy," Kuron's voice suddenly comes to him through the comlink, shaken and whispering, but still alive.

"Kuron," he hisses over the link. "Where are you?"

"I can see you," she rasps out. "Got some cover, but not for long. He's coming."

"Kuron- you need...to retreat. You're the only one left. Get back to command. Tell them- what's happened."

"Alex...Sergeant," she starts in a tone that tells him she's about to do something very brave and very foolish. "Klaidi's dead...isn't she."

"Yes," he whispers, actually feeling tears sting at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry."

" He killed her."

"Yes."

"I have a shot, Sergeant," she returns, something in her voice going cold, dying even as he listens to her speak. "I'm taking it."

"Neg- negative...Kuron," he struggles to argue with her. "Do not engage. Just go! Get out of here."

"No," she says, voice soft but more certain than he's ever heard it. "He killed Klaidi. I can't ...just walk away."

"I gave you- a direct order...Alita," he snarls, fighting to move, but still to no avail. "I am sorry ...for Klaidi's death...but getting your self killed is not going to bring her back. Obey my orders! You've got to retreat!"

"It's been an honor, Sir."

"Alita, NO! "

But there's nothing he can do to stop her stepping out from her cover and firing on the Lasat. He doesn't know how likely it would've been that she could make it back to base with how badly burned the left side of her body is, but he will never know for certain. It doesn't make it any easier to watch her go down.

The Lasat takes a hit, but it's ultimately Alita who ends up on her knees with a single plasma burn through her chest, trembling and struggling for breath as she defiantly looks her killer in the eye. The mercenary laughs as he takes aim at her.

"A shame, this," he says. "You might be the only real warrior in this lot."

"Just go to Hell... monster, " she growls at him.

Letting out an enraged roar, the Lasat takes the last shot, but then he turns and sneers down at Alex.

"You want to know why I didn't kill you."

This...this isn't...

Without another word, the mercenary strides toward him, wrapping a single hand around his throat and lifting him up off the ground. Alex chokes out a tiny cry, fingers scrabbling at the Lasat's fist.

"At least Alita died like a warrior should. You? You are nothing. You aren't even worth the energy it would take to end your pathetic little life. You couldn't protect your squad. You can't protect the Spectres. You can't even protect the Lasat ," the mercenary hisses in his face as he squeezes the air from his lungs. "You will be the death of them. No matter what you do, you can't help but kill Lasat."

"No..." he whispers, tears pouring freely down his face. " No ..."

"They'll come for her, you know. Your precious little child, and your captain. They will come for them the way you came for Lasan, and they will put them to the blaster. You will have to watch them die , and again you will be too weak to stop it. So what are you, if you aren't strong enough to protect what matters most?"

I am...nothing.

But...if I am nothing...then I have nothing left to lose.

And it's with that thought that something inside of him just snaps.

With a roar to match the Lasat's in ferocity, he's seizing his enemy's bo-rifle in his own hands, impaling the larger being on the suddenly electrified bayonet. Though grunting in pain, the Lasat sneers victoriously at him.

"Knew it. Give the man enough rope, as they say."

"You talk too much! " he snarls before shifting the rifle's output to maximum, instantly frying his opponent.

You cannot escape it, a voice comes to him from everywhere and nowhere all at once – a voice that's an unsettling blend of the Lasat and Thrawn. You will bring them despair. All you can do is destroy.

" SHUT UP! " he screams, firing into the smoke, searching for the unknown assailant. But he's alone – alone and surrounded by enemies.

Cut them down!

"Hey, Kallus, are you-"

He fires before he can question himself, and the plasma bolt strikes true this time – directly into Ezra Bridger's heart.

Alex cries out in shock as he watches the young Jedi fall. Ezra looks up at him with heartbroken eyes.

"Kallus..."

"I...no! I- I didn't mean t-"

Kill them all.

"Ezra!" Kanan's horrified voice sounds from somewhere in the smoke and mist. When he appears, running to his student's aid, it happens again. Kallus fires before he can stop himself.

"NO!" he cries out when the knight goes down.

"Alexsandr," the Jedi accuses as his mask falls away, the blind stare somehow a thousand times worse than if the man had actually been looking at him. "Why?"

"No! Kanan, please-"

Show no mercy.

" Kanan! "

Hera's horrified cry is somehow more heart-wrenching than the first two. When he turns to fire on her, it's with tears spilling down his face.

The Twi'lek says nothing when she falls, just looks at him with eyes that contain every last ounce of disappointment the galaxy's ever held.

Strike them down! Every last one!

" DAMN YOU! " Sabine shrieks, her eyes mad with grief as she comes at him like a beast. She goes down no less violently. He wants to scream, to gouge his own eyes out. He wants to toss the horrid weapon away, but it's like before. If he lets go, even for an instant, his heart will shatter.

"Alex?"

"No. Please, no... please, " he begs of the universe, of the Force, the Ashla, anyone who will still listen, as he slowly turns to face Garazeb Orrelios. "Please don't make me."

The look the former guardsman gives him is infinitely tender. There's unfathomable sorrow in his expression as well, but all it seems to do is accentuate the love in Zeb's eyes. He does nothing to defend himself, just holds his arms out wide, welcoming his death...whenever Alexsandr Kallus should see fit to deliver it.

"No...no..." he whispers over and over again as he raises the bo-rifle to fire. His hands are shaking badly, but he knows the shot will fly true. "Zeb... please ...just run."

"I'm not gonna leave you. Not like this."

"Zeb...my Zeb... ni alitha ...please," he begs, because there's nothing else he can do. For a moment, he sees the red glow of Thrawn's eyes, flickering in the smoke beyond his lover.

Good soldiers follow orders.

"Zeb-"

Kill him.

"I love you," the Lasat tells him, never once breaking eye contact.

" Why? " he whispers as he pulls the trigger.

XxX

Zeb had already decided he wasn't going to sleep long before the other Spectres had even started talking about bed. Alex needed his sleep, of course, but if this was going to be their last night for who knew how long, he didn't want to miss a second of holding the human. He was greedy and selfish and desperate, but he needed every moment he could have – every second he could capture before it was gone. He needed the beat of the other man's heart and the space between each breath. He needed the warm and real feeling of him in his arms. He needed the scent of his hair and the taste of his sweat. He needed to know that he wasn't off on a star destroyer somewhere risking execution for the sake of people he'd never even met.

And if he lost a little sleep over getting what he needed, well, nobody else had to be the wiser.

It wasn't difficult to stay awake after Alex and Ezra had gone to sleep. He had practice enough keeping awake for night watch. It was only too easy to sink into the meditative state of half-consciousness, focusing that remaining awareness on the human sleeping in his arms. It wasn't something he was ever likely to say out loud, but holding Alex like that, just breathing him in and being able to see him at peace, not having to worry for his safety...it was the closest he'd ever come to true paradise. He knew he hadn't been this at peace with himself, this happy, since a long time before Lasan fell.

Of course, that sort of bliss couldn't possibly last forever.

Zeb first began to notice it in the deepest hours of the night, when Alex's breathing began to quicken, becoming erratic and harsh. This was soon followed by several small whimpers.

"Zeb?" Ezra's hesitant voice sounded from overhead. "I think he's having another nightmare."

"Yeah," Zeb agreed softly, not sure if it had yet become bad enough that he needed to wake the former Imperial. While he hated the thought of Alex suffering, even in the smallest capacity, he did still need sleep.

"It...I think it's bad," the young Jedi said with what sounded like a tiny sniffle.

"No. Please, no...please," Alex cried out helplessly in his sleep, and when he shifted suddenly to face more in Zeb's direction, he could see the faintest hints of tear tracks on his cheeks, barely visible in the dim light.

"Alex," he started, trying to shake him gently. But before he could make any progress, the door to their quarters slid open, revealing Kanan and Rex out in the corridor. Rex, on watch, was still clothed, but Kanan was only in sleep pants.

"What's wrong?" the knight pressed, features twisted in worry.

"Bad dreams. I been tryin' to wake him," Zeb explained just before another desperate plea entered their ears.

"Good soldiers follow orders."

Zeb would have turned back to Alex to continue his efforts to wake him, except that something shifted drastically in Rex's expression upon hearing those words. His eyes widened in shock and he shook his head faintly, taking a step back before he managed to master himself again.

"Rex?" Zeb started in confusion.

The clone squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, slowly shaking his head. "Aw, Fives," he muttered in a voice thick with regret and sorrow, and when he opened his eyes again, there was only pity in them.

"Rex, wha-"

Whatever Ezra had been about to say was cut off by the sound of a tortured scream.

The wordless sound nearly sent Zeb into a panic of his own. It was only years of conditioning that led him to tighten his hold on Alex rather than jerk away from him. He hadn't heard a scream like that since...well...since Lasan. Forcing the thought away, he pinned Alex to the bunk, trying to keep him from hurting himself as he struggled to escape from the demons in his own head. And after a time, one word did manage to come through the horrific noise.

"Zeb! ZEB! ZEB, WHY!"

"Alex, wake up!" he snarled desperately, a small kernel of guilt seeding in his heart at apparently being the cause of this. "It's all right! You're all right! Please wake up."

When Alex finally stilled in his arms, the human looked up at him slowly, eyes wide and breathing harsh as tears streamed down his face.

"Zeb?" he whispered in a strangled voice.

"You're okay," Zeb soothed him, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead.

"No...no," Alex struggled to explain. "It's not- not me."

Then, from down the hall, a shrill, angry baby wail sounded from behind Sabine's door.

"Lia," Alex started in muted realization, trying to disentangle himself from Zeb. "Arkalia-"

"No you don't," Zeb snarled fiercely, taking hold of the former Imperial once more. "You're not going anywhere until you calm down."

Alex didn't argue and it was that, more than anything, that told Zeb just how badly he'd been shaken by the night terror. He curled in on himself, pressing his body as closely against the Lasat's as he could manage. Zeb just cradled him against his chest, crooning softly in Lasana while the wetness of the other man's tears gradually soaked through his jumpsuit. He doubted the others even knew he was still crying. Alex was silent as he wept, but his tears were no less heartbreaking to Zeb for that. He wished he could make whatever was hurting his alitha stop, but there was only so much he could do against this unseen enemy.

Glancing helplessly over his shoulder, he saw that Hera and Sabine had joined Rex and Kanan in the doorway. Sabine had mostly managed to calm Arkalia, but the kit was still clearly unsettled, feet waving anxiously in the air. To a one, the other four all carried looks of pity in their faces. Shaking his head, he turned his full attention back to the trembling human in his arms. Letting out a deep, thrumming purr to soothe them both, he pressed several kisses to the top of his head before tucking Alex's face against the curve of his neck. All the while, Garazeb Orrelios asked himself the question that had no answer.

How can I let you go back...when you're still suffering like this?

XxX

The sun was shining when the little family parted ways.

Sleep had not come easily for the rest of the night, but mostly they'd managed it, and when they'd emerged from the Ghost in the morning, it was as if the past few days of rain had never happened.

Crawling back into his uniform had been even more of an endurance trial for Alex this second time than it had been only a week ago. The material encased his body like a straitjacket, binding him in upon himself. It took him several moments to remember how to breathe again once everything was in place.

He said his goodbyes to the Spectres as a whole, with admonishments to take care of himself, not to do anything stupid, and to give the Empire hell. He, in turn, told them all quite firmly not to die. It was a mostly light-hearted farewell, kept sweet and simple to avoid the heavier issues weighing on all of their lives, but then the crew left him, Zeb, and Arkalia alone to make their goodbyes to each other.

"I don't want you to stick this out any longer than you feel like you can," Zeb told him, the breeze off the river playing with his beard as he shifted Arkalia into one arm. Reaching out with his now free hand, he gripped Alex's hand tightly in his. He offered the former guardsman a weary smile as he twined their fingers together.

"I will do what I have to, Garazeb."

"I know you will," Zeb growled, meeting his eyes with every lick of flame that was in him. "I also know how you think what you have to do is give yourself over to bein' Fulcrum completely. Fulcrum's just a codename. It's not who you are. Don't let Fulcrum forget about Alex. If you feel like you can't do this anymore, I want you to com me. I'll come for you. No matter where you are. I don't care if you're in the brig of the Chimaera or the most high security cell on Coruscant. I will find you. I'll always come for you," the guardsman vowed, his words containing all the gravitas of the warrior he was.

"I know you will," Alex repeated his words from earlier as he leaned his face up to rest their foreheads together.

But I could never allow myself to put you in that kind of danger.

"Just...let me do what I need to," he said instead. "Things will only be more dangerous from here on in. I can't just walk away now."

Zeb let out a frustrated sigh, though his face was lit by a small smile as he pulled back from him. "Karabast. How can I- okay. Maybe there's another way I can put it. So, when you're up there, riskin' capture and facin' unimaginable danger," he began to elaborate with a wry smirk, "I want you to start thinkin' about some of the situations you get yourself into."

"All right," Alex agreed, still not quite sure where he was going with this.

"Then I want you to picture me in that same situation, and ask yourself how you'd react if it was me in that situation instead of you. That'd probably give you an idea of whether or not you're gettin' in too deep, yeah?"

Alex's first response was amusement, but when he actually began to think about it, he realized that the directive actually had some sense in it. He wasn't the sort to consider his own safety in an equation, never had been. But Zeb's safety? That was first in his heart. That notion gave a whole new perspective on things.

"Uh-oh. I see I've got you thinkin'. We all know what happens when I do that," Zeb teased. Alex took his words a little more seriously, though.

"Wonderful things," he said in response, offering the Lasat a warm, grateful smile. "We wouldn't be here at all if you hadn't gotten me thinking. And I think your idea has merit. But I'm only going to promise that if you promise it in return," he insisted, poking the former guardsman in the chest.

"Sure. Why not? I can promise that," Zeb said with a nod.

"Good," Alex said with a firm nod, but then Zeb was drawing him up into a kiss – an aching, drawn out press of lips that reminded them both that they were saying goodbye. Hopefully not forever, but...goodbye. It was a thought that was incalculably painful, especially after this completely wonderful week they'd spent together.

Only a week, Alex found himself thinking as his fingers traced the sides of Zeb's face. That's all it's been? To me, it's been as fulfilling as a full standard year...and yet...as short as a single rotation.

"Alex," Zeb whispered gently against his neck, nipping lightly at the skin. The contact drew a soft gasp from the former Imperial's lips.

"Oh...oh, Zeb," he whispered in kind, fingers digging into the Lasat's velvety fur. How could he let this moment go?

"Tell me I'm gonna see you again," the Lasat murmured desperately against his skin. Even though they both knew they could make no such promise, this wasn't a matter of what they could or could not do. It was what they had to do.

"Absolutely," he reassured him. "I will do whatever it takes to get back to you...both of you," he said without thinking, and almost as if she knew they were talking about her, Arkalia began to squeal insistently.

"Aw, of course. Little squeak," Zeb said with a smile.

"How could I ever neglect saying goodbye to you, dear heart...ni kyra," he said softly as he stroked the fur just behind her ears, leaning in to give her a kiss on the forehead.

"She'll be a climbin' maniac next time you see her," Zeb warned him. "Won't be long now.

"And you- truly believe it will be a few months yet before you're able to take her to safety?"

"A few, yeah. You'll get to see her again. Couldn't pass up the chance to get my two Kals together."

Alex glanced up in surprise at that one, but then began to laugh quietly. He'd honestly never considered Zeb's nickname for her in that light before. Kali. Kal. The stars had aligned just a little too perfectly on that one. Feeling his throat begin to tighten against the emotions battling inside him, he pulled both the Lasat into an embrace, holding as tightly to them as he was able, even if it was only for this small moment. This embrace would have to last him until they were together again – if there ever was such a time.

"I love you," he whispered in Zeb's ear before he could convince himself not to. When he pulled back from the Lasat, it was to see a look of shocked amazement on his face. It was the first time he'd said it out loud, certainly, but for all he knew, it was also the last. It was something he needed Zeb to know...in case he never got another chance. "I- whether or not I should, whether or not I deserve to...I love you...Garazeb Orrelios."

It took Zeb's expression only a moment to shift from amazement to his typical smile. As he opened his mouth to speak, Alex could just hear his words in his head.

"Alex-"

"Wait," he interrupted the Lasat, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "I know what you would say, but I- I can't hear it yet."

Again, it took the Lasat only a moment to go from joy to annoyance. "What the kriff is that supposed to mean?"

"I have no right to hear those words from you," he explained as he drew himself up. "But I hope that I will be worthy to hear them- when I see you again. So until then...please..."

Zeb let out another exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't agree with you; I think you're bein' a complete idiot, but...if it's what you want...then I'll bite my tongue. For now, anyway."

"Thank you, Zeb."

"But I am gonna leave you with one last thing," he said as he moved in close to press their foreheads together one last time. Then he breathed two words against Alex's lips.

"Ni tinsana."

Alex was half-expecting this to be followed by a kiss, but was left disappointed when Zeb pulled away from him, leaving him wanting.

"What- what does that mean?" he tried to ask, feeling almost light-headed from the intensity of Zeb's previous proximity. The Lasat shook his head as he began to walk away.

"Nope. You'll find out what it means next time. Try not to die in the meantime, yeah?" Zeb called over his shoulder.

"You utter bastard," Alex called after him, struggling to keep himself rooted to the spot. If he didn't let them go now, he knew he never would. "Fine then. Next time," he finished the response to Zeb's initial farewell.

Zeb didn't turn to look back at him until he'd reached the Ghost. Alex couldn't at first identify the look in his eyes. He thought he saw worry, but that expression quickly shifted into a reassuring smile. Taking one of Arkalia's little hands in his, he helped her lift it to wave goodbye to him. The look on the kit's face, though, was decidedly saddened and confused. Rather than waving, she was making a grabbing motion with her hand.

"Uh. Uh," she pleaded, reaching for him, beginning to kick her legs. She continued to gurgle, but the sound of the Ghost firing up covered the sounds she was making.

"Goodbye," he said with a wave, smiling sadly at them as the ramp began to rise. She started to cry just before it closed.

"Goodbye, dear heart," he whispered with a shuddering breath, feeling that same tightening in his chest and throat, but he managed to keep his features tightly schooled into a smile – just in case any of them happened to be looking.

Goodbye, my heart...my life.

He stood, fixed in the same spot as he watched the Ghost take to the skies. He didn't look away even once. He watched until the scrappy freighter had disappeared into the atmosphere, then steeled himself to take his chances with the Empire once again.

XxX

Arkalia was not shy in making her displeasure known during the trip back to Atollon, but by the time they'd arrived back at Chopper Base, she'd mostly cried herself into exhaustion. All she seemed to be capable of doing was clinging to Zeb's chest, occasionally hiccuping and sniffling as the former guardsman carried her from the Ghost. As the crew moved through the base, it proved somewhat difficult to ignore the stares of their fellow rebels.

"You'd think they'd never seen a baby before," Zeb growled, glaring at a gaggle of pilots whose stares had lingered just a little too long.

"No, big guy, I think it's just you carrying a baby they haven't seen before," Kanan pointed out, not wholly able to help the quiet chuckle that followed.

"Well, better get used to it then. It'll be happenin' a lot," the Lasat said with a dangerous smirk, his step almost taking on more of a swagger as they headed into central command. Sato was currently receiving a report from Wedge. When he noticed their arrival, he attempted to side-eye the group, but even he couldn't seem to prevent the slight upturn of his mouth.

"So this is the new spectre-ling we've all been hearing so much about."

"This is her. General Sato, meet Arkalia," Hera introduced.

The general mostly maintained his disapproving look, though that spark of a smile could still be seen playing about the corners of his eyes and mouth. The smile that splayed across Wedge's face on catching sight of the kit could only be described as helpless. He waved at her, but Arkalia immediately buried her face in Zeb's chest.

"Don't worry about it, Wedge," Sabine reassured him, despite having giggled at his crestfallen expression. "She's usually pretty friendly. She'll warm up to you. She's just had a rough day."

"This is all highly irregular," Sato pointed out, still with just the spark of a smile, "but it seems the child is in need of a family. I suppose we will serve until we can find her better."

"Yeah," Zeb said as he looked down at the grumpy kit in his arms, feeling the gazes of his fellow Spectres join with his. A lot of his thoughts were far and away with the member of the family that was still absent, but in the meantime, he would keep Arkalia safe – until they were all together again.

"We'll serve."

XxX

The truth that fueled Alexsandr Kallus' performance upon returning to the Lawbringer was bitterness. It was easy to show his compatriots and superiors bitterness over the events of the last week. If they chose to incorrectly interpret it as bitterness over being bested by the rebels, more fool them, but he supposed he couldn't blame Konstantine for not digging too deeply. After all, not one iota of his bitterness was false. He was bitter – bitter over being separated from Zeb and Arkalia, bitter over having found this strange little family only to be torn away from it all too soon, bitter over the fact that he would one day lose the kit, that she could never be his to care for. Maybe, if he and Zeb both survived this fight, they could care for other lost children...but none of them would be Arkalia.

Kallus had entered his sparse quarters once before with his life unraveling around him. He'd never expected to do it a second time. So far as he knew, his life couldn't possibly undergo anymore such fundamental transformations as it had when he'd made the decision to turn away from the Empire. How wrong he was.

He had been a different person when he'd left these quarters only a week ago. Bitter as he was, heartbroken as he was, and alone as he was, he now understood his own capacity to love a little better. If his long-cold heart was capable of feeling the things he felt for Zeb and Arkalia and the rest of the Spectres...maybe any heart was capable of being touched by love? Maybe this wasn't all as hopeless as it sometimes felt?

Moving over to the meteorite that still graced his small bedside shelf, he carefully took it between his hands. Its glow had dimmed considerably over the past few months, but it was still lit from within, still faintly warm beneath his fingertips. It wasn't enough – not really. It could never match the feeling of Zeb's embrace or the warm weight of Arkalia's tiny body cradled in his arms. It wasn't enough – but it would have to be. He had to get through this, no matter what it took. The meteorite had been his light in darkness once before. Even if it was weak, even if it was fading, maybe it could be so again.

"Zeb...Lia," he began softly, pressing the briefest of kisses to the meteorite's warm surface, "I'll come back to you. I promise I will."

Then, placing thoughts of Alex and warmth and love on the shelf with the meteorite, Kallus climbed back to his feet, drawing his surety around him like a shield.

Let's see just how well the ISB trained me.

Chapter Text

Just as Zeb had told them, it wasn't long before Arkalia was crawling, padding everywhere on her awkward little limbs. They had to keep a closer eye on her than before, as crawling was soon followed by climbing. She couldn't climb very high yet, but it was still disconcerting to see her on the floor one moment, turning away briefly to hear a mission report, only to look back and find the little Lasat pulling herself up onto a stack of supply cylinders.

Most of the rebels were charmed by the baby girl, but many were also driven to distraction over her, worrying about making certain she was never crushed underfoot. Zeb, though he worried over her almost constantly, did his best to maintain a more hands-off style of care, as he remembered how his mother and sisters had managed to keep him safe while still letting him run wild. The struggle to strike a balance was never-ending, it seemed, and even though it was what he was aiming for, the extremes that Kanan Jarrus took hands-off parenting to could sometimes be maddening.

Whenever Kanan found himself with the responsibility of keeping an eye on Arkalia, he tended to let her have free reign of whatever space the pair of them were occupying, and while that oftentimes resulted in massive cleanup efforts at the end of the day, it had never ended with the kit injured in any way, and despite the fact that they were leading a guerrilla war effort, that tended to be the important part for most of them.

More and more often, though, in an effort to spare everyone the Jedi knight's unique style of childcare, Kanan had taken to taking Arkalia with him outside the base, sometimes even going so far as to take her with him on his outings into the wastelands. While Zeb trusted his friend to the end of the galaxy, he could never quite shake the feeling of worry whenever he knew Kali was out with Kanan, and when he saw them heading out on this particular day, he just couldn't shake the feeling that he ought to say something. So, making sure his patrol was covered, he headed out after the knight and the kit.

He was relieved but almost surprised to catch up with them easily. He found Kanan set up on a blanket just inside the sensor ring. Arkalia was rolling gleefully in the dust and sand, attention preoccupied with a ratty stuffed loth cat. Kanan just sat there, smiling as he listened to her playing. There were no spiders at the perimeter today, but Zeb knew just how quickly that could change.

"Should'a told me you were playing hookie today, Zeb," Kanan called to him with a smirk. "I would've let you have her."

Zeb snarled quietly as he approached. "'m not 'playin' hookie'. I just wanted to talk."

"What about?"

"You're...not goin' out today?"

"Not at this exact moment, no. Ari was content here. I tend to let her pick the direction."

"A baby leadin' a blind man around," Zeb scoffed mildly as he scratched at the back of his head. "There's a joke in there somewhere."

"Not so much," Kanan said with a shrug. "Ari's the one who wants to see the world. Who am I to stand in the way? Y'know, in case you were wondering why it is I take her out there."

"Somethin' like that, yeah," Zeb responded awkwardly. "I just- we promised Alex we'd keep her safe. Takin' her out to play with giant spiders kinda seems like the opposite of safe."

"And you think I'd let something happen to her?" the knight asked, tilting his head to the side in a sort of imitation of raising an eyebrow.

"No! I mean, not let as such, but...why'd you even wanna take the risk? I know you're a Jedi, but you can't control everythin' that happens," he pointed out.

"You're right. I can't," Kanan conceded. "No one can. She's in danger just being on this planet...being with us. She won't really be safe until we get her to Lira San, and even then...well, who could say?"

"Right. Lira San," Zeb said with probably a touch more bitterness than he'd meant to.

"Gotta say, buddy, Lira San's usually a much brighter sound from your mouth," Kanan pointed out casually, patting the spot beside him on the blanket.

"Yeah, it probably is," he grumbled as he sat down beside Kanan, gaze briefly flicking to Arkalia, who was blissfully unaware of the conversation happening above her.

"Anything you'd like to get off your chest?"

"Not really, no," he growled, half in threat. Kanan was his best mate, sure, but if he was going to start prodding at him...

"All right. Let me ask you something else then."

"What?" Zeb pressed a moment later when Kanan didn't immediately follow up.

"Who's Kaya?"

The former guardsman felt something in his heart go cold upon hearing the name. He hadn't heard it in years, and now Kanan had to go and dredge it up like the answer was that simple – like it was an explanation that could be given in only words. Eyes narrowing to slits, he glared sideways at the Jedi, attempting to convey the icy rage in his expression with the hiss of his voice.

"Where did you hear that name, Kanan?"

"In my visions...that day I was first out in the forest with Ari, back on Alluvium. I saw that you tried to save her. Who was she?"

For several minutes, Zeb just sat there, stewing in silent anger and grief. He'd be lying if he even attempted to say that his thoughts hadn't been on the little princess ever since Arkalia had come into their lives, but why – why did Kanan have to drag the most painful of his ugly memories out into the sunlight? Wasn't it enough that he was going to lose another child? Why did he have to relive this one, too? He was very seriously considering stomping angrily away from the Jedi for so casually bringing up one of his most painful failures from that day. But he also knew that Kanan wouldn't let this go now he'd brought it up. May as well get it over with so they could get back to never speaking of it again.

"Kaya," he choked out after several moments of anguished silence. "Arekaya...Princess Arekaya Selvarrio...was the youngest child of Queen Astyrialle Selvarrio. She was born right around the time I was inducted into the High Honor Guard, so...I guess you could say we got our start together."

"The two of you were close," Kanan said softly.

"Yeah," Zeb said, voice distant as he watched Arkalia place her toys in a circle. "Both younger siblings, so I suppose we just got each other, y'know? She had it a lot worse than I ever did, though. Youngest of eight royal siblings, she got lost in the shuffle a lot of the time. Whenever she was lonesome, she'd come to me, and I always did my best to make time for her, even after I rose to captain."

That was the simplest explanation he could offer his friend. He couldn't give voice to the warmth of the little princess' smile, the gentle peal of her laughter whenever he would sweep her up in his arms, the adorably serious look on her face whenever she would hold court with her collection of dolls...the sense of purpose he'd received from guarding her...as if for the first time, he was actually doing something with the Guard instead of just following in his older sister's footsteps.

But then the refugees from Kashyyyk had come to Lasan in the wake of the war his people had managed to stay neutral during, and right behind them had been the Empire.

"Kaya was- only six when Lasan fell," he recounted, remembering the exact moment Kanan spoke of – the little girl's terrified screams, the fear in her eyes. "I killed the trooper who tried to take her, but then another made off with her. I tried- I tried so hard," he half-snarled, feeling himself start to shake with reigniting rage and heartbreak. "But I couldn't...that...it was when the disruptors started goin' off. There was smoke and fire everywhere, and living Lasat just- disappearin' in clouds of ash. I was right in the middle of it. I couldn't-"

"Zeb," Kanan cut him off before he could devolve into a complete panic, his voice gentle but with a commanding sharpness to it. When Zeb looked down, he found his claws had pierced through the blanket they were sitting on. His fur was standing on end and he was breathing harshly. He'd been only moments away from a full on breakdown. "You're okay. This isn't Lasan. It's Atollon."

"S- sorry," he murmured weakly, slowly disentangling himself from the ratty fabric. "'p- 'preciate- the intervention."

"It's all right. You don't have to tell me any more if you don't want to," the blind Jedi reassured him.

"I...lost her in the chaos," he said, returning instead to the topic of Kaya, leaving behind the memory of the strangely sterile Imperial carnage. "I don't know why they were tryin' to take her. Can't imagine what they might've wanted her for. I think they were takin' kids. One of the guards said somethin' 'bout the creche bein' broken into. Maybe some Imperial with too much money wanted to start up a zoo. Whatever it was, she...she's probably dead by now. I hope she's dead," he insisted. "It'd be better than whatever those stinkin' Imps might've had in store for her," he finished, drawing his knees up to his chest like a frightened kit.

"Right. I think I understand."

"Understand what?" the Lasat snapped at his friend, not quite looking at him.

"Why you're afraid. Zeb...Ari's not Kaya, you know."

"And what's that supposed to...to..." Zeb started to growl, only to trail off when he noticed the very important thing that was not there to be noticed. "Kanan...where's the kit?"

"She...oh," the knight started in mild surprise as his attention shifted beyond the sensor ring, and when Zeb's gaze followed that attention, he came to the conclusion that his friend's reaction had decidedly not been the correct one.

Arkalia was currently outside the ring, waving a paw animatedly at the krykna that had wandered up to the barrier.

"ARKALIA!" Zeb roared in fear as he shot to his feet, already going for his bo-rifle.

"Zeb, don't!" Kanan warned him, reaching out to grab his leg before he could take off. It was only his absolute faith in his friend that kept him from wrenching his leg free. "It'll be all right."

"Kanan, she's in trouble," he growled, expression torn as he watched the large creature scuttle toward the kit, no more aware of her peril than if the krykna had been a loth kitten. "I've gotta do somethin'!"

"You'll only make things worse if you go over there now. Arkalia will only be in danger if you interfere," the Jedi said, his voice calm, though his grip on Zeb was durasteel. "Just wait."

Zeb groaned in frustration and worry, gaze darting between the knight and the spider nearly upon Arkalia. "But...she-"

"Don't. Move," Kanan warned him slowly. "Normally, I'm all for letting people make their own mistakes, but it's that kit's life if you kriff up right now. You're just gonna have to trust me."

Giving several more frustrated growls, the Lasat finally let out a slightly louder roar before lowering his weapon, though he didn't put it away. "Kanan, if you're wrong, I'm gonna stuff you in one of their nests and bury the exits."

"And nobody would stop you," his friend informed him as he finally released his grip on his leg. "But that's not going to be necessary. She'll be fine. Just watch."

Zeb did so with bated breath, ready to whip the rifle back up to fire at the first sign of trouble. But none presented itself as the krykna surveyed Arkalia, prodding at her with one of its legs. Arkalia cooed in response, batting gently at the spindly leg.

"Sa-sa, sa-sa, sa-sa," she sang up at the carnivore with an excited smile.

The spider continued its inspection with a sense of curiosity, gently pushing the baby Lasat over in the sand to have a look at all of her. Arkalia just giggled, clearly unaware that this creature could swallow her whole.

When the krykna finally gave a series of clicks and began to scuttle back the way it had come, Zeb felt like he'd been waiting an eternity. Without waiting for Kanan's permission, he bolted to Arkalia, scooping her into his arms and carrying her back inside the safety of the ring.

Arkalia herself was no worse for wear, completely unaware she'd been in any danger. She returned Zeb's tight, desperate embrace with a trill and a drooly smile.

"Za za," she said, looking inordinately pleased with herself.

"Kanan, you're off sitting duty for two weeks," Zeb informed the Jedi as he turned to head back into the base.

Kanan laughed as he climbed to his feet. "Well, I guess that is your call to make, but you have to admit I was right. Nothing happened to her."

Zeb rolled his eyes, but gave a small snarl of assent without looking back at the human.

Kriffing kriff-faced Force-ass Jedi. He'd sit on him if Kanan couldn't just shove him over with the Force.

XxX

Kallus didn't think much of it when he first heard of the Empire's most recent attempt to deploy droids in its search for rebel bases. Such attempts had been made before without much success and he had no idea what might be different this time. The fact of the matter was that the Outer Rim territories were simply too vast and not even the Empire had the resources to go over everything with a fine-toothed comb. But if his former superiors wanted to waste those finite resources on searching for bases they were extremely unlikely to find, he was hardly going to point out their folly. Let them waste their time and effort and droid power. It was one more tiny advantage that could be granted to the rebellion.

But when the report of a single anomaly reached his ears, his earlier dismissal quickly shifted to alarm bells in his head.

"Agent Kallus, we've lost contact with one of our infiltrators," the deck officer reported to him. "It hasn't reported in."

Kallus felt his blood run cold at the man's words. Could it mean...no. He couldn't permit himself a reaction. Not when he didn't know anything for certain. Not turning back to the officer, he kept his tone even as he asked, "What was its last known location?"

"The droid never transmitted its coordinates, so we don't know," he responded, allowing the agent an inward sigh of relief. "Should we alert command?"

"If we chase down every temporary comm failure, we'd have little time to do anything else," he pointed out in a scolding tone as he finally turned to look at the officer, his face a study in Imperial control. "If there's no contact by next cycle, we'll follow up. For now, we wait."

It was difficult for him to take his own advice during the rest of his command shift, but he made certain to keep himself solidly in check until he could retreat to the privacy of one of the supply terminals he'd designated for Fulcrum transmissions. With a ship the size of a Star Destroyer, it was only too easy to avoid the maintenance crews if one knew what one was doing, and Kallus certainly knew what he was doing.

With all the necessary information on the recon droids prepared, he began the somewhat tangled, strenuous process of bouncing his transmission through several different locations, the final destination a mystery even to him. There was always the off chance this really was just a temporary comm failure and there was nothing to worry about, but that was not a chance he was willing to take.

Not when the success of the rebellion hinged upon its ability to remain hidden.

Not when the lives of the Spectres could potentially be at risk.

Not when there was even the slightest chance that Zeb and Arkalia could be in danger.

XxX

As much as he'd complained to Hera before, Zeb didn't actually mind being left alone to mind the base. It gave him an opportunity to spend more time with Arkalia.

Despite his own endless warnings not to get attached to the little kit, attachment was happening right under their noses and they all knew it. Really, you couldn't help but love her. No sooner did any of them resolve to remain distant and aloof from the baby Lasat than she would roll over and laugh or she would grab a toy with her little foot. She was almost painfully adorable.

Just like Kaya...

And it was thoughts like that that reminded the former guardsman of his peril. He sighed, unable to even bring himself to be annoyed when the kit made another attempt to escape the sling wrapped around his chest.

"You're gonna break my heart, little girl," he told her, keeping her secure with one hand while keeping the other at the controls of the speeder.

Lasat didn't use carriers all that much. Kits were strong enough to grip within the first month and typically just held onto their mothers until they were climbing. Really, it had seemed strange to him that Arkalia's mother would've been carrying her in a basket at her age, but perhaps it had been more for reasons of practicality...or because her mother would've almost certainly been too young to have grown up on Lasan, had likely been raised among humans. While Arkalia was strong enough to grip, Kanan was the only one besides Zeb who felt comfortable enough to let her do so. Besides that, it was much easier to keep an eye on her when she couldn't escape the confines of a sling or a carrier, so even Zeb would sometimes allow himself to stoop to using one. Like just now for a jaunt out into the wastelands to replace a damaged sensor. The sensor had been easy enough to replace, but the sling had kept Arkalia from slipping away from him when they'd discovered the droid.

The kit was the one who'd drawn his attention to the damaged automaton, lying beneath a swarm of dead krykna. She'd immediately attempted to wriggle her way out of the sling, thinking she'd found another friend like Chopper to play with. Taking his cue from the little girl, he'd decided to bring the droid in for identification, and he'd been doing nothing but keeping Arkalia in check the whole journey back.

"Y'know, assumin' you don't break the rest of me first," he tried to joke as he narrowly avoided swerving into a rock formation following the kit's latest attempt to pull his ear.

In the seat next to them, Chopper gave several wild whirs, punctuated by a few wide swings of his manipulator arms.

"Yeah, but you spend all your time with Hera. You've really got no room to talk about my piloting," he jabbed.

In fact, Chopper had a fair few things to say about his piloting, only about half of which he understood. Either way, they made it back to the base in one piece. The astromech spouted an indignant stream of binary as he exited the speeder.

"Keep jabberin', rust bucket. You try handlin' a speeder with a kit tryin' to climb your head," the former guardsman bit out.

This elicited a long whistle from the droid, who quickly rolled over to him and bumped sharply against his legs, which actually got a laugh out of the Lasat.

"Okay, fine. I guess Ezra does count," he chuckled as he slid Arkalia free of the sling and settled her on top of Chopper's dome. He complained loudly as he trundled away, but they had all made note of the fact that no matter how much Chop complained of Arkalia, he was never anything but careful with her. He made certain she never slipped as he rolled into the supply depot.

With his hands free, Zeb was able to fish the damaged droid out of the back of the speeder, calling out to AP-5 as he carried it inside.

"Hey! Inventory!"

"Excuse me," the droid protested as Zeb laid the new discovery across a set of crates. "This is a supply area. Not a trash compactor."

"We found this busted up droid in the wasteland. Can you identify it?" Zeb asked. When Chopper rolled up beside them, the kit on his head immediately stretched out a curious paw to bat at the unresponsive droid.

"Hmm...it looks like an older model of some type of protocol droid," AP-5 noted, going for a generator. "I should be able to give it enough power for a systems restart."

Zeb was half surprised at how quickly the new droid came online after being plugged in. "Heh, it worked," he said, a small grin turning up the corners of his mouth when he saw Arkalia smile up at the droid.

"Of course it worked," AP-5 snipped in his typical voice.

"Uh...hello," Zeb started uncertainly, not sure if such an old droid would even have a Basic function. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"

The droid looked between the four of them a moment, running through a string of several garbled languages before finally coming back with, "Designation...unknown."

"Its memory systems are damaged," AP-5 commented as the protocol droid got to its feet. It wasn't long at all before it was scanning everything in sight, making a full inventory list.

Zeb blinked, barely managing to hold back a laugh. "Did he- did he just scan and inventory this entire area? He's better at your job than you are," he jibed as he punched the inventory droid on the shoulder, only too eager to get back at him for his earlier comments about Zeb's intelligence.

"I seriously doubt that," AP-5 huffed. "However, he appears to be a logistics droid. Could prove useful...as my assistant."

"Seems harmless enough," Zeb said as he looked the droid over once more, chuckling quietly as Arkalia continued to bat at it. "I guess we could take in another stray."

The protocol droid glanced over at Zeb as he spoke, giving him a similar once-over.

"Species...Lasat," it declared after a moment of this. "Designation...military. Rank...unknown."

"Captain Orrelios at your service," he returned with a small salute, impressed that the droid had even that much in its databanks. He really couldn't help his own amused laugh when it attempted to return the salute. "Fast learner, this one."

The droid's attention shifted next to Arkalia. "Species...Lasat. Designation...juvenile. Sampling...tenth percent. Source...Zaniva BioTech. Inventory...unaccounted."

The moment the droid began to go into more detail, Chopper backed away from it with a low and angry whir, barely managing to keep Arkalia from slipping off. Zeb didn't know if the droid's words actually meant anything or if it was simply more damaged memory gibberish, but to have Chopper switch so suddenly from merely cranky to openly hostile set off something of an alert in the former guardsman's mind. But then the protocol droid came out with its next analysis.

"Astromech C1 series. Obsolete mechanism. No longer in production," it declared before turning away from Chop and Arkalia.

"He doesn't like you," Zeb muttered quietly. So maybe it was just a droid thing. Chuckling again, he attempted to shake off his earlier misgivings. "Now I really like him."

Chopper launched into a mostly inane series of whistles and warbles at this, spinning in circles, and while the motion drew laughter from Arkalia, the astromech's own tone was clearly one of anger.

"What's he sayin'?" he asked AP-5, the string of binary having gone by much too quickly for him to make out.

"He's saying 'I acknowledge that you do not like me all that much, nor do I have a terribly high opinion of you most days. But our opinions of one another should not matter when stood beside the safety of the small one. Something isn't right here. We should shut this droid down now.' Chopper, you're being ridiculous," AP-5 started to berate, but whatever else he said, Zeb didn't hear it. For several moments, his gaze darted between Chopper and Arkalia and the new droid. Maybe the crotchety astromech was right? But before he could decide one way or the other, a new voice entered his awareness.

"Captain Orrelios to the command center for a priority message."

Priority? Well, that was either the fleet or...or maybe Alex with a Fulcrum transmission. It must be important. Glancing uncertainly between the three once more, he gave a frustrated sigh before offering Chopper a pointed look. "We'll settle this when I get back. In the meantime, don't let her out of your sight."

Chopper gave a disgruntled warble that, from a human, would've been something like an exasperated huff, giving the effect of the words 'you don't have to ask me to do that'.

"And you," the Lasat threw over his shoulder at AP-5, nodding toward the protocol droid, "keep an eye on this one, yeah?"

"Very well," AP-5 snapped out. "But if you seriously don't mean to keep him active, then I believe I'll get all the use I can from him in the meantime," he finished, beginning to lead the other droid further into the supply depot.

"Buh-bye, Kali," he said to the kit as he patted her on the head, pulling his hand back before she could latch onto him. "I'm comin' right back. You be good for Chop until I do."

Arkalia burbled curiously up at him, but Chopper immediately regained her attention by heading off after the other two droids, wheedling on his treads to keep her entertained. The sound of her delighted laughter stayed in Zeb's ears all the way back to the command center.

"Sir, we have a message from Fulcrum," the officer reported to him as he approached the main comms array.

Alex.

It was a struggle for Zeb to keep his tone even while feeling his heart swell within his chest. "Let's hear it. Put him through."

The now-familiar lines of the Fulcrum symbol flickered into being above the console in place of a proper holo image. Zeb didn't know if it was real or imagined, but he half-thought he could actually hear the sound of his lover's voice beneath the modulated tones of the encryption program. To be able to hear something that even halfway sounded like Alex's voice was a joy to him, but the words he was actually speaking were anything but.

"The Empire has begun to deploy recon droids. These infiltrators sweep the Outer Rim worlds for rebel bases," Alex reported, and in place of the Fulcrum symbol appeared a schematic for a droid that was bristling from top to bottom with heavy firepower.

"Oh, look at that thing," Zeb grunted through grit teeth as he examined the schematic up and down. "It's armed to the teeth."

"They are extremely dangerous, but can appear harmless while in protocol mode," the report continued, the visual switching to a schematic for an image Zeb found horrifyingly familiar – an older model protocol droid, a droid he'd just carried into their base himself.

A droid he'd left Arkalia with.

"Oh, no."

He would've taken off running then and there, but the transmission continued. If he was lucky the droid would stay in protocol mode, but if it didn't, he would probably need everything Alex had to give him in order to take it down.

"One recently failed to report in. Be advised, if the droid remains out of contact, the Empire will come after it, and soon. Zeb..." he said, his taking the risk of speaking the Lasat's name over the transmission proving just how worried he must be, "navsarra, ni alitha. Fulcrum out."

Navsarra...Protect her.

Before the officer could even say anything, Zeb was long gone, sprinting back through the base as he drew his bo-rifle.

"Karabast! Should'a listened to that kriffing murder bot," he snarled as he went. If Arkalia was hurt because of his stupidity, he would never forgive himself. Worse still, Alex would never forgive him. He just had to get there in time.

But when he barreled around a corner, catching sight of them, it was just in time to see the recon droid stiffen up at something AP-5 had said.

No! He couldn't be too late. He just couldn't!

"AP-5! Chopper! Step away from that droid!" he snarled at them, advancing cautiously with his weapon locked onto his target. He couldn't take the shot. Chopper and Arkalia were still too close.

"Rebel...base," the Imperial droid said slowly.

"W- what exactly is happening?" AP-5 stuttered out, moving slowly away. Still too close.

"That thing's some kind of Imperial recon droid."

"Rebel base...identified."

"Get away from it!" Zeb demanded. "What's it doing?!"

"Designation, Imperial infiltrator droid, EXD-9," the droid declared just before beginning to shift modes.

"It's- remembering," AP-5 responded fearfully as the Imperial droid displayed its full array of weaponry.

"Assignment...Atollon. Target...rebels," the droid intoned, shoving AP-5 aside and going straight for Zeb.

"Chopper, get Kali out of here!" he snapped at the astromech as he fired off a shot at their assailant, only just missing when it leapt up onto one of the overhead catwalks. It was difficult to shut out the kit's panicked screeching as Chopper headed off with her, but he needed to focus. When the droid returned to ground level, he was ready for it. He didn't think of the pair again until the droid dealt him a nasty blow and Chopper was suddenly back in the fray, delivering a jolt of electricity to its circuits.

The infiltrator sent Chopper flying with a single angry blow, sending him crashing against a stack of crates. Zeb used the droid's moment of distraction to come at it again with a round of heavy fire, managing to take out one of its blaster hands. The infiltrator fired off a few more shots before finally retreating. Once it had disappeared from sight, Zeb moved from his cover to help Chopper back up.

"You okay, Chop?" he asked as he righted the astromech. "Where's Kali?"

The astromech chirped before hurrying down the same path the infiltrator had taken, but Zeb was relieved when he quickly split off from it, heading down to another sector. When he reached a clutch of storage cylinders, he tapped on one that Zeb saw had been left slightly ajar, and when the former guardsman slid the cylinder open, the baby's distressed wails immediately echoed up out of it.

"It's all right. It's okay," he soothed the baby girl as he lifted her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. He didn't even complain when he felt the pinprick of her tiny claws digging into his skin as she clung to him. "Ze ze, ze ze, Kali."

Please be quiet. Oh, please.

Once she was latched onto him, the sounds of her cries were mostly muffled in his chest, but Zeb was still worried that the droid might hear her, so he put all of his efforts into calming her down while he, Chopper, and AP-5 tracked it. He would've preferred for her to be properly safe, but there was no time for that. This thing had to be shut down before it could report back to the Empire.

And after discovering that the droid was repairing itself, a plan began to take shape in Zeb's mind.

Instinct told him to keep Arkalia as far away from the infiltrator as possible, but logic dictated that she would be safest with one of them, and of the three of them, Chop was the one who was most likely to avoid actual contact with the recon droid during the execution of his plan. So it was only with great reluctance that he settled the still-frightened kit back on top of Chopper's dome, watching them until they were out of sight. Then he quickly scaled his way up to one of the catwalks, preparing to ambush the droid.

He knew it the moment Chop located the infiltrator, as the astromech's panicked warbling and Arkalia's frightened cries were soon echoing around the depot. It was a struggle not to scrap the plan then and there and go help them, but he managed to hold himself steady. He was only too eager to jump the thing when Chopper came zooming beneath his perch with Arkalia clinging to him for dear life, but the infiltrator didn't immediately follow. When it got its sights on the pair, it actually seemed to perform another scan.

"Species, Lasat. Designation, juvenile," it said again. "Genetic profile for Project Ash Warrior, sixty-five percent match."

What?

"Directive...retrieve," it declared with an unsettling finality as it finally began to advance. Chopper issued a warning trill, slowly rolling backward.

With the recon droid's threatening pronouncement, the control that Zeb had been holding so tightly to snapped completely. He threw himself down on the enemy droid with an enraged battle roar, going at it with everything he had. He hadn't understood much of what the droid had said, but he did understand retrieve, and like kriff was he going to let the Empire lay even one grubby finger on Arkalia.

He might've actually straight up destroyed the thing had AP-5 not stepped in to shut it down, and it was only then that Zeb remembered how kriffed they would've been if he had. The damn thing had to return to the Empire in one piece.

He didn't have much chance to think on the droid's words in the ensuing chaos of averting its detonation and getting it offworld and back to the Empire, but they were there at the back of his mind throughout, and throughout it all, he held Arkalia to him, comforting both her and himself.

What would they want with you? What could the Empire possibly want with a kit?

XxX

Perhaps it wasn't the wisest decision to report directly back to Thrawn after the missing recon droid's explosive return to base; Kallus'd had enough trouble concealing his relief and amusement after the detonation from the droid carrier. But it probably would've seemed more suspicious to the grand admiral if he hadn't reported back. So he entered the Chiss' situation room with a tight lid on his true emotions, noting nothing in his demeanor except his typical detached, vague sort of interest.

"How did this happen, Agent Kallus?" the grand admiral asked him, gaze intently scanning a holoprojection of the recon survey systems.

"I suspect the rebels captured a unit in the field and reprogrammed it to self-destruct upon its return to base. Quite...ingenious, really," he said, as if offering grudging respect.

"I am inclined to agree," the Chiss said. His expression didn't change, not really, but Kallus found himself noticing some sort of new spark in the grand admiral's red eyes.

"You seem- in surprisingly good spirits, considering this loss," he said slowly, being careful not to seem like he was fishing for something in particular.

"Loss, you say?" Thrawn said, gaze briefly flicking up to meet his, that small spark momentarily identifiable as triumph. "The rebels may have protected the location of their base for now but, in doing so, they have narrowed my search," he explained, keying in an instruction to narrow the projected field. "Before today, they could've been hiding in any of a thousand systems, but now...now I know they are almost certainly on one of the ninety-four planets surveyed by my infiltrators. The rebels have won this battle, but the war will be ours," he said, voice dropping into an almost-purr at the last.

Kallus glanced around at the floating collective of highlighted worlds with a neutral expression. If he could've managed it, he would've preferred to portray Thrawn's own look of mild interest or even pleasure, but he couldn't fake quite that much with the sudden fear twisting at his gut. Here he'd thought Zeb and the others had been quite clever in keeping safe the location of their base, but this was, of course, Thrawn they were dealing with. There was no way the Phoenix cell could manage to stay hidden from him indefinitely. Perhaps he could pass the grand admiral's search grids to Command and they could begin a search for a new base outside of Thrawn's radar?

"Something troubles you, Agent Kallus?" Thrawn's voice was suddenly lancing back into his thoughts, half question and half statement.

"No," he answered quickly before recovering, sighing and looking away in an attempt to pass off his moment of terror as embarrassment. "Well...yes. Merely that I did not see the implications as clearly as you did. I should have realized..."

"There is no cause for concern, Agent. Your skill with deductive reasoning is quite sharp. The necessary mental acuity will come with time and experience."

Kallus allowed a small smirk to shift his expression as he began to turn away from the grand admiral. "Your words may have flattered me once, Sir, but I'm not exactly a young man as far as human years go. Who could say how much time truly remains?"

Time not to be a fool, not to be blind to the galaxy around me. Time to regain the time I have wasted.

"You do my words a disservice. Flattery cannot exist where there is truth. You have proven yourself a most capable agent of late, above and beyond what one even typically expects to see of the ISB. Yet I understand you pass up promotion whenever talk of it arises," Thrawn pointed out.

"That is true," he conceded without looking at his superior, wary of the fact that he was asking about this now. Thrawn did not engage in 'small talk'. What was he after?

"Is there a particular reason why?" the Chiss asked when he offered nothing else.

He couldn't deflect. With these questions coming now, it would seem too much like he had something to hide. The truth, then. But how much?

"It is- my own preference to remain in the field as much as I can. It is where I can do the most good," he said simply.

"An honest assessment, I suppose. But you have also demonstrated unparalleled leadership abilities for those troops under your command in the field. Would not those skills also be of great use to our Empire?" the grand admiral pointed out.

And now they were getting into more personal territory. Thrawn would almost certainly know if he gave him anything but the truth.

"I...acknowledge the need for a higher command structure. A firm grip is needed to maintain order, but- on the whole, I do not much care for the attitude that develops among those with greater power. I would just as soon keep myself back from such things," he said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth together.

"So you would say that you...resent authority?" Thrawn posited, the expression on his face shifting from merely interested to what passed for openly curious for him.

"Not- so much in the way I imagine you're thinking," he said carefully, aware that they were in clawfish-infested waters now. "My experience with authority in the waning days of the Republic was...shall we say, less than exemplary."

"Why is that...if one may ask?" Thrawn continued to press, and once again, Kallus knew he could not risk lying. Likely, that was exactly the sort of test this was. The Chiss probably already had the information he wanted. For him, it was just a matter of deconstructing the manner in which Kallus presented the facts to him.

"I imagine you will have heard this from less- complimentary sources, but my father was a member of the Galactic Senate in the years leading up to the Clone Wars, senator of Salear. He was not...the best example of what a man in power should be – the worst of what the decadent influences of the decaying Republic could give birth to. I do not have it in me to turn away from the abuse of power." Again, this was something about him that was true. There was nothing hidden in it because it was all fact. If Thrawn felt the need to see something else in it, he would be fishing at best. But whatever direction Kallus had expected the grand admiral to take this in, it was not the one he ultimately went with.

"Forgive me, Agent, but I have never had the temperament to learn the ins and outs of politics. In my view, there is not much to be said for a great deal of politicians. Why should any sources I may have be less complimentary on the subject of your father than any other politician?" the Chiss asked him.

It was a struggle not to breathe a sigh of relief when that question was put to him. Things had officially become a little too personal and he could now safely defer the grand admiral's probings without fear of rousing suspicion.

"That, Sir, is less to do with the professional than the personal. Suffice it to say that the man's treatment of my mother has a great deal to do with why I support this government," he said, turning away from Thrawn once more.

"And if it does not suffice?"

Once again, Kallus halted in his exit. There was no threat in the Chiss' voice, no warning of any subtler meaning in his questions, but for some reason, he was not letting this go.

"Were that the case, I believe I would find myself asking 'why the curiosity?'," he said with a glance over his shoulder, finding the grand admiral looking at him with marginally raised eyebrows.

"Well, you have been at the center of several recent events. The raid on Alluria, the supposed discovery of a Lasat infant, your kidnap and ransom, the rebels' interest in Manaan – you have become quite the connecting thread of late. Far be it from me to even suggest the word 'coincidence', but you do seem to have a great many trailing behind you. It leaves one rather curious about the man who stands among those they call the Butchers of Lasan."

Kallus couldn't stop himself from stiffening at the mention of the old moniker. Even before Zeb, he had detested the title, but had never really been able to shake it. And now there was no way the ever-vigilant Thrawn hadn't noticed his reaction, no matter how minute. The act wasn't over yet.

"Well...a reputation is a fickle thing at best. I have only ever done what was necessary. It was no different on Alluria...than it was on Lasan," he said, not properly turning to face the grand admiral. "So far as I'm aware, the tip about the infant may have just been bad information. Insofar as I could account, all the Lasat were killed in the raid. There's- truly nothing to be curious about."

"Perhaps not, but then again, perhaps there is," Thrawn said, voice dangerously soft. Out of the corner of his eye, Kallus saw him step away from the holo display. "It is not your exploits, rumored or otherwise, which are of interest to me. It is you, yourself," the Chiss explained as he moved up behind him, coming up right at his shoulder, practically breathing down his neck. Thrawn held the position for only a moment before moving around to stand beside him.

"And why is that?" Kallus asked with a raised eyebrow, being careful to keep his tone even, perhaps even managing a shade of disinterest as he met the grand admiral's gaze full on.

"Truth be told, you are something of a mystery among your peers, Agent Kallus, and the fact of the matter is that so few of your kind are," the Chiss explained, that same spark of almost curiosity lighting in his eyes once again.

Kallus let his eyebrows knit together at the grand admiral's words, offering up an air of contemplation, looking inward. When he looked back up at his superior, it was with a smoothed-over expression.

"I- truly have no idea if I ought to take that as a compliment."

"Take it as approval, if nothing else. An opponent that cannot be read possesses a distinct advantage in battle."

"And are we opponents, Admiral?" he asked, voice quiet and controlled.

"As a strategist, it is only logical to assume that anyone could become one's opponent, given the proper set of circumstances. I do believe I would find you a worthy opponent, Agent, were we to ever find ourselves on opposite sides."

"That I will certainly take as a compliment," Kallus said with a nod, attempting to give off a small note of pride. "Now if you will excuse me, Admiral, I have my own duties to attend to."

"Of course," Thrawn said with a curt nod, stepping aside to allow Kallus to exit the chamber.

It was a physical struggle for the rebel spy not to slump against a wall in relief when he was finally out from beneath the grand admiral's intent red gaze. From his very first encounter with Thrawn he had felt like a specimen in a lab, or a piece on display at a museum, helpless to do anything but stand there as the man slowly picked him apart with his eyes.

This was worse.

He had never felt so stripped bare beneath the Chiss' gaze as he had in this encounter. He presented a perfectly collected exterior to the rest of the vessel but, inside, he was shaking. Briefly, his thoughts skated back to Zeb – to the admonishment he'd given him when they'd parted ways.

I want you to start thinkin' about some of the situations you get yourself into...Then I want you to picture me in that same situation, and ask yourself how you'd react if it was me in that situation instead of you.

If Zeb were in this situation? If he were here instead of him, cover less than an inch from being blown, he would tell his love to get out. Get out now.

But then...who would be left to be their man on the inside? To be their eyes and ears for the attack on Lothal? To get them the intel no other spy can? Who would be left to build that better galaxy that Zeb and Arkalia deserve?

There may never be another opportunity like you again, Kallus. You can't run away. You have no right to. Not until the job's done.

Unable to help but think that Zeb would've come to a similar conclusion were he in the same situation, he couldn't wholly keep a small smile from turning up the corners of his mouth. Idiots. Both of them. Two hopeless fools. Not for the first time, he asked himself when it was he had fallen so hard. He was no surer now than he had been when he'd first asked that question of himself a few scant months ago...the last time he and Zeb had been face to face before Alluvium...on a planet that, strangely enough, had been the home of his so-called father...

X

Salear.

A Mid Rim world of modest population, relatively unknown among the throngs of worlds that claimed membership in the Galactic Republic. At least up until the onset of the Clone Wars, when Zaniva BioTechnologies had made enormous strides in lab-grown foods and genetically modified crops that could handle harsher growing environments. Then everyone knew about the little world.

But really, that was all Kallus knew about the planet where his father had been born. He had never had any desire to learn more, nor even set foot on Salear. Frankly, his father probably would've been ashamed to see him there anyway. So he'd avoided it while the man had still been living, but he could little continue to do so when a rebel spy was captured while infiltrating Zaniva's planetside facilities.

The infiltrator, Jidu Ailytè, had been inserted based on intel from him, chasing rumors of some new genetic experimentation the Empire was engaging in. The Empire was not as upfront about genetic research ever since the cloning facilities on Kamino were shut down, but that didn't mean nothing was happening. Likely it was just the opposite, so Jidu had taken the mission when an opportunity had arisen, despite his warnings of the danger. And because he felt responsible for the young woman in some way, he couldn't just leave her to his fellow ISB agents. He'd informed Phoenix Squadron of a slender chance to rescue her from the Imperial installation on Salear before she was transferred to ISB's central headquarters on Coruscant.

Their plan had been insane, as their plans often were, but far be it from him to question what worked. Jidu had been liberated from Imperial custody, but the plan had apparently gone south from that point onward, leading to Sabine having to improvise an explosion to help cover their escape.

Unfortunately, Kallus and Zeb had been a little too into the diverting battle they'd gotten themselves into in order to allow Ezra and Kanan to get clear with Jidu. Zeb had whispered the improvised plan to him in the midst of a particularly heated tangle of their bo-rifles, but...well...he wasn't completely sure what happened when the time came to get himself clear. Probably it was some combination of seeing Zeb again and the guilt he was feeling over getting Jidu and the Spectres into this situation, but when the first warning rumble sounded and his eyes locked onto the Lasat's, he found himself completely frozen, unable to flee. For a moment, just a moment, he was back on Lasan, and the proton clusters that would end it all were just about to go off.

Oh, stars.

Then a blinding flash of orange and white electrified the area, and instead of an explosion, all Kallus could hear was the panicked, horrified sound of Zeb screaming his name.

" ALEX! "

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kallus vaguely recalled the voice of a lecturer from his Royal Academy days – something about how the human brain reacted during a traumatic experience. Rather than experience the event as a whole, the mind would often hyper-focus on extraneous, unimportant details. So, whether he was reacting to the trauma of the flashback or the explosion itself, it mattered little in his suddenly hyper-aware state. All his mind would focus on was the sound of Zeb's voice in his ears, the feel of the Lasat's velvet-fine fur beneath his cheek, the strong press of his much larger arms around him and...was that a leg, too?

"You called me...Alex," he mumbled faintly, unable to do much but lean his cheek further into the softness of Zeb's fur.

"That's your kriffing name , isn't it," the former guardsman growled in his ear, his voice strained.

"You've- never done that before," was all he could manage.

"Karabast, are you with me in there, man? We're in a bit of a situation here."

"I..."

Then, all at once, his awareness came flooding back, only for that awareness to inform him he was hanging upside down above a yawning void filled with smoke and debris where the lower levels of the sector had once been. He could feel Zeb's arms and leg wrapped around him because the Lasat was hanging from a mostly undamaged strut with nothing more than a single foot, clutching him tightly against his body. Instinctively, his grip on the Lasat tightened, though he turned the rest of his focus to remaining still in his embrace, determined not to make this any harder than it must already be.

"This- seems to happen to us a lot...doesn't it," he said with a helpless chuckle.

"Too right, and you haven't exactly lost weight since Bahryn," Zeb tried to joke in that same strained voice, though he did take a moment to nuzzle his face tenderly against Kallus'. The former Imperial couldn't wholly help the small smile that lit his face – such a sweet, warm gesture in the middle of such a dangerous situation – but, just as quickly, he realized...

"You shouldn't have done that, Garazeb," he scolded, despite the fact that he found himself burrowing a little deeper into the Lasat's embrace.

"What? Save your life?"

"Someone might have seen ...or a cam-"

"Please," Zeb started with a roll of his large eyes. "Any cam what could'a got that is dust now. System's totally scrambled. We're fine. Or...we're fine so long as that beam holds out," he noted, gaze flicking up to the length of durasteel that was currently the difference between them and a very violent end. But then the Lasat looked down into his eyes once more, continuing with, "Besides...I couldn't let you die. That wasn't happening."

"Zeb..." he whispered, the moment strangely tender despite their obvious peril.

"You've been really out of it this go 'round. What's wrong?" Zeb asked him.

"Now? You're asking me that now? " he fired back, in spite of how touched he felt by his former enemy's concern.

"Sure. Might not be around to save your sorry hide next time you decide to freeze in the field. So what happened just now?" he pressed.

"It- it's nothing," he tried to insist.

"Yeah, that's the biggest load of bantha shit I've ever smelled."

"It's nothing you can do anything about, Garazeb. It's just- this place..."

"What? Bad memories?"

"Not- exactly. I've never been here before. It's- difficult to explain. Family matters...I guess," he took an awkward stab at explaining.

"You guess? "

"You know, we- we really need to not be dangling over a fifty meter drop to have this conversation. To have any conversation, really," he jibed back.

"I dunno. I think I could get to like this...havin' you all to myself," Zeb said with a teasing smirk. "Second we get outta this jam, it's back to bein' Rebel and Imperial. But now...right now we don't have to pretend for anybody. It's just you and me," he said softly, resting his forehead against Kallus' for a moment before pressing his lips to his in a quietly passionate kiss.

You and me...

Alex trembled at the emotion he felt pass between them in that kiss. If there had been any doubt in his mind about what he felt for Garazeb Orrelios, it was laid to rest with that loving press of lips...the unbreakable strength and care that held them so tightly together. Perhaps it was what he had always felt – from the moment Zeb had given him that meteorite...given him the comlink...given him his trust and forgiveness...given him a way back to himself. Whether it was from the very first moment they'd truly begun to see each other, or just now in his arms, he knew what it was he felt.

When did it happen? When did I fall in love with you?

Kallus could have gone on like that forever, blissfully kissing Zeb while suspended in mid-air, but the bar the Lasat was clinging to chose that moment to remind them that they were, in fact, suspended in mid-air, by giving a tiny wrench.

"Aand that will have to be dealt with," Kallus noted as they awkwardly separated. "Sooner rather than later."

"Right," Zeb started as he glanced around, looking for possibilities. "My ride's gonna be here soon, but it's gonna look pretty bad if we rescue you, too. Maybe we can-"

"There!" Kallus pointed out as he swung his gaze through the clearing smoke, drawing Zeb's attention to a bit of corridor in the gaping holes of the lower sector that still had enough stable flooring.

"There?" Zeb repeated, raising a dubious eyebrow as Kallus looked back at him.

"Sure. If you can just swing me down there, that bar should hold your weight until the Phantom arrives."

"And you're- you're sure about that distance?" Zeb asked, eyeing it with apprehension.

"Of course. Just like old times," he reminded him with an encouraging smile. "I know you can do it. I would trust you with my life, Zeb."

"Good...'cuz that's what this is – me takin' your life in my hands," Zeb said, voice thick with uncertainty as he glanced down at the chasm they were suspended over.

"You can do it," Kallus repeated gently, loosening his grip from the Lasat in order to pull Zeb's face back toward his, away from the drop. "I trust you."

Taking a long moment to center himself, Zeb breathed in and out. Then he pressed his lips to Kallus' for one last searing kiss before nodding firmly. "All right. Let's do this before I lose my nerve. I'm gonna let you down real slow and easy..."

Using his leg to support Kallus' body on the way down, Zeb helped him climb down his own body, until his own hands were gripped securely in the Lasat's strong, four-fingered grasp.

"You ready?" Zeb asked him, eyes sick with fear as he looked down at him.

Alex looked back up at him with perfect trust in his eyes. There wasn't a whole lot he believed in anymore...but he believed in Garazeb Orrelios.

"I'm ready."

Then Zeb began the simple swinging motion needed to give Kallus enough momentum to reach the un-demolished bit of building, also being careful not to swing too hard and cause his precarious perch to give way. When he'd reached a point that was just at the brink of being too wide a range of motion, he released his grip on Alex's hands, sending him flying.

He was braced for his impact with the hard surface, allowing his body to roll with the force of motion, carrying him several feet away from the edge. He heard Zeb's triumphant whoop as his battered body slowly unfurled from the tuck he'd curled into. He climbed to his feet just in time to see the Phantom swoop in for him.

"I'll see you, Agent! Next time! " Zeb shouted at him just before releasing his hold on the bar and letting himself fall the short distance to the lander.

" Next time! " Kallus shouted right back, raising a hand in farewell as the shuttle fired off into the distant sky, taking Zeb away from him yet again.

How many more times could he endure watching the Lasat leave him behind?

XxX

Despite his stress and exhaustion from the day's events, Kallus was easily awakened from a dead sleep by the sound of his personal comlink going off. There was only one other person able to use that line.

Zeb.

"Hmm...Garazeb," he mumbled sleepily as he activated the voice link.

"Aw, karabast! I woke you, didn't I," Zeb groaned in frustration. "I thought maybe I could catch you before your sleep shift. Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep. We can talk later," he said, making to disconnect."

"No, please wait," Kallus half-begged, struggling to shake the sleep off as he sat up in bed. "You wouldn't call me if it wasn't important. What is it?"

"But you don't sleep enough," Zeb said with a pained sigh. "I don't wanna interrupt the little sleep you do get."

"Zeb, please. Talk to me," he tried again, running a hand through his hair as he settled himself against the stark bulkhead of his quarters, "I- I want to talk. I would go so far as to say I need to."

"Alex?" Zeb started, voice quirking upward. "You okay?"

"Of course," he returned. "Thrawn just gave me a bit of a turn today after the recon debacle."

"Alex," the Lasat continued to press, voice becoming all the more pointed, "are you still safe there?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just the admiral being his usual prying self."

"Alex-"

"I'm fine, Zeb. Truly. How...how's Lia?"

"She's good. Out like a light, our little princess. She's with me in my quarters right now, since everybody else is out on trainin' maneuvers. I'd been hopin' to get on with you while she was still awake, but there was just so much else goin' on."

"That droid- never came near her?" he pressed anxiously. More than he could give voice to, he'd been worried about the baby Lasat. Zeb could at least take care of himself, but Arkalia...Arkalia was helpless.

"No. Spooked a bit, but not a scratch on her. Only...there were things that droid was sayin' while it was scannin' her...things I didn't get, but I had Chop run 'em back for me later."

"What sorts of things?"

"It was sayin' things about- percentage and inventory and genetic match. Have you ever heard of somethin' called Project Ash Warrior?"

"It- rings no bells for me, no. But I can certainly look into it."

"Yeah, that'd be good. It was talkin' about- retrievin' her. I don't like that," Zeb's worried voice came to him through the comlink.

Kallus inhaled, sharply and deeply, as he turned his gaze to his ceiling, feeling the same crushing sense of fear and worry coming from his lover squeezing vengefully at his own heart. "I suppose...it's possible her parents escaped from some sort of Imperial prison. That could be what it was talking about."

"Could be...but it also said somethin' about- Zaniva BioTech. Maybe I'm rememberin' this wrong, but...wasn't that the corporation Jidu was tryin' to scope out a little while back?"

Kallus froze upon hearing the name, nearly dropping the comlink in the process. With Thrawn's probing questions from earlier, and the memories they had drawn to the surface, there was no way these things were unconnected. He would have to do some digging now. If the Empire were to come after Arkalia for more than just the crime of being a living Lasat-

"Alex? Kal?" Zeb's voice suddenly cut through the encroaching dread. "You still with me over there?"

"Yes," he finally responded. "Yes, I'm here. Sorry. Zaniva...was in fact the corporation Jidu was attempting to infiltrate. I suppose they could be involved with this Project Ash Warrior somehow. There are many things they do for the Empire. Really, it all depends on what Ash Warrior actually is. That will take some digging, I have little doubt. I should begin researching soon," he said, going for his datapad.

"And do you plan on sleepin' before that?" Zeb asked him, and Kallus could just picture the way he'd raise an eyebrow at him.

"Of course," he lied as he brought the screen up.

"Liar," Zeb called almost immediately, another pained sigh passing through the connection as Kallus pulled up his network access. "You're doin' it right now, aren't you."

"Now why would you say that?" he teased mildly, though he couldn't quite help the small smile that lit his face, soothed by the sound of his lover's voice.

"Because I know you, Alexsandr Kallus," he grated. "You're gonna be at this all night and you're gonna be half-dead for your first shift."

"Nothing a few cups of caf won't remedy. This is what I do, Zeb. Really, my comrades would be more suspicious if I stopped pulling all-nighters," he pointed out.

"Just one more reason for me to crack their heads together. I swear I'm puttin' you to bed for a solid week when you get outta there," Zeb grumbled.

"Well, if I'm to remain in a bed for a whole week, I certainly hope we'll be doing something a bit more interesting than sleeping from time to time," he couldn't quite help jibing, a delicious shiver moving through his body at the thought, a second shiver beginning when he heard a kind of pleased purr travel through the connection.

"Might do, might do. Guess we can spend one a' those nights awake. I have been wantin' to hear that uptight ISB voice screamin' my name," the former guardsman purred seductively, lighting a small spark in the former Imperial's belly.

"Careful, Captain Orrelios," he warned once he was certain his voice would be steady enough after his latest shiver. "You may distract me from my duty. My superiors won't take kindly to such fraternization."

"Kriff 'em. I'll wipe that smug condescension off every last one of their faces. I'll march right onto that Star Destroyer a' yours and slam you up against the nearest bulkhead. Then I'll do you so hard, it'll leave even the stuffiest old officer on that ship panting," Zeb said, voice dropping into a delectably deep growl.

"Garazeb," Kallus scolded in a scandalized tone, though the fresh pulse of desire between his legs was no less divine.

"Or you could do me. I'm flexible," Zeb invited. "Can't have those tight-wound doilies thinkin' you were only seduced to the rebel cause by the promise of a good kriffing."

"While I appreciate the offer, I- sincerely hope Arkalia is truly asleep over there. I have no intention of having comm sex with you with a little kit in the room."

Zeb sighed, the sound devolving into a quiet chuckle before he continued. "All right. That mean the offer's on the table when she's back with Sabine?" he asked hopefully.

Once again, Kallus found himself shivering pleasantly at the thought, even though he could feel the blush staining his pale skin. He'd never actually had comm sex before, so he didn't know the first thing about it, really, but for Zeb's sake, he was certainly willing to give it a go.

"We'll see," was his ultimate response, carefully willing away the beginnings of his arousal as he dug further into his research.

"I'll take what I can get. For now, we can always skip to the aftercare, talk about that some. Ever had a lover make you breakfast in bed before?"

"Never," he said softly. He hadn't had a great many lovers in his life, and certainly none that he'd achieved this beautiful level of intimacy with. There was something comforting in knowing this wasn't just a physical relationship – that they could tease each other and go on for hours over these seemingly trivial things. This love was a light in the darkness he knew could so easily overtake his heart. So, having the feeling he was not going to like what he found in the Imperial databanks, he invited his love to chip away at that darkness. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, just as a start, the others tell me I make the best waffles in the Outer Rim...

Chapter Text

It probably wasn't correct to say that things quieted down after the droid incident. Things never really got quiet when one was part of a rebellion. Perhaps it was better to say that nothing catastrophic had happened for a few weeks.

Things had settled so much, in fact, that Hera had felt it would be all right to let the Spectre boys take on a recruiting run in between training runs. Partly because Rex's little network had picked up a tip on a fresh batch of Outer Rim bush pilots, and partly because Kanan needed to be away from Atollon for a time, having been experiencing yet another round of visions he'd been able to make neither heads nor tails of. He was hoping that getting away from the Bendu might help him work through his muddled thoughts, but so far, things just seemed to be getting even more tangled. So, while Zeb and Rex worked to get the Ghost docked with Kafrene when they came out of hyperspace, the Jedi meditated alone in his quarters, struggling to get himself under control. But still the errant scraps of vision plagued him.

A pair of red eyes narrowing spitefully, seething hatred as Thrawn's voice sounds in his head.

"Whatever happens next happens to both of us."

The Bendu, gazing down from high above with an enigmatic expression. It laughs, shaking its head.

"Such a lot of trouble over such a little thing."

Looking down on Kallus from above, the ex-Imperial on his knees, wrists bound, badly beaten.

"Do you love them, Kallus? What secrets would you give away in order to see their lives spared?" a voice that sounds like Thrawn's begins, but ends sounding more like Pryce's.

Zeb, expression ravaged and terrible as he holds his bo-rifle above a fallen foe.

"You dare touch my tinsana?! You dare harm what's MINE?!"

Kallus clutching Arkalia to his chest, tears streaming steadily down his face as he presses several kisses to the top of her little head.

"I love you. I love you. "

Kallus looking up with an expression of resolve and determination, even though there's a glint of sorrow and loneliness beneath it all.

"I can do more good here."

Giren Kuross, pressing in uncomfortably close, and a profound sense of disgust and defilement.

"Say it again, Lasat. Tell me to stop. Beg me. "

"Kanan?"

The knight inhaled sharply at the sound of his padawan's voice, flinching as his sightless eyes blinked open.

"We're- coming up on Kafrene. You okay in there?"

"I- I'm okay," he said haltingly, shaking his head. "I don't know what it is. I just can't get my head to settle."

"Do you think- it could be some kind of fallout...from our confrontations with Maul?" Ezra asked, and Kanan didn't need to see the look in his eyes to feel the thread of ever-present guilt in their bond.

"I doubt it. There's no telling what, but I- I think I stumbled into some sort of confluence in the Force, back on Alluvium. It was a meeting place of several different futures, and they're all still touching mine in some way," he tried to explain.

"Well...anything we need to be worrying about in the near future?" Ezra continued.

Kanan sighed. "I couldn't say. I couldn't say with any of the things I've seen recently. There've been a handful I know to be visions of the past, but beyond that..." He shrugged.

"How do you know?"

"I've seen images of people I once knew...Jedi I know are now dead. I've seen Zeb on Lasan. And I've seen..." he stopped, shuddering in remembered horror as the image of the Sith – Skywalker – raising a lightsaber to strike down babies flitted through his mind.

"What?" Ezra pressed when he didn't continue. "What did you see?"

Sighing heavily, Kanan steeled himself for the words he was about to give voice to. He would've preferred to spare his apprentice all of this, but Ezra was not a child anymore. He deserved to have as much of his Jedi history as Kanan could give to him – even the ugly parts.

"When- the Republic turned against the Jedi...their purpose was to slaughter every last one of us," he began in a heavy voice. "That included the very youngest members of the Jedi Order – the younglings."

Ezra's only response to that was a sharp gasp, but Kanan could hear the horror in the sound just as easily as if he'd shouted.

"You- remember the Jedi temple on Lothal?

"Uhuh."

"The central temple was on Coruscant. I'm sure the masters all thought- that nothing could touch them there...but they were wrong," he said, voice dropping into a whisper at the last.

"Kanan...what did you see?" Ezra asked him again, even though the pain in his voice said he already knew the answer. Kanan could easily picture the way his face would crumple in sorrow.

"I saw him...the Sith lord. I didn't actually see it happen, but he was about to murder a roomful of children," he hissed, continuing to speak even through the sound of Ezra's horrified gasp. "It was him...who killed them all...every last child in the temple. And Ezra...I heard his name," he admitted.

"Wait. You know who he is?" Ezra pressed in shock. "Who?"

"It- I don't think it's going to make any difference at this point."

"But still," Ezra tried to argue. "If we know who he was before, we can-"

"We can what? In this case, I really don't think it's going to help us at all."

"Why not? Was it...was he somebody you knew?" Ezra tried again, sounding worried now.

"He was someone everyone knew...a hero of the Clone Wars. I don't- think anyone could've imagined he would turn," he said quietly, almost to himself. He'd never formally met General Skywalker, but of course he'd heard of him.

"So...who was he?"

"It was Anakin Skywalker."

"Skywalker?" Ezra repeated in shock. "You mean that guy Ahsoka had holos of? Her master? The one you said was one of the greatest Jedi ever?"

"Yes."

"But...she thought the galaxy of him. How could somebody like that...turn to the dark side?"

"The same way anyone does, I guess – the right temptation."

"Still...I have a hard time believing that somebody like him- could become Darth Vader."

Before Kanan could respond to the younger Jedi's shock and confusion, a different sort of shock suddenly reverberated through the waves of the Force, loud and insistent and utterly consuming in its devastation. From the way Ezra flinched in the space next to him, he could tell he had felt it, too. And it didn't take him long to realize what the source of that shocked despair was.

"Rex."

XxX

CT-7567 hadn't meant to overhear anything. Really, he'd figured it was safe to approach the open door to let the two Jedi know they'd docked. But then he'd heard Kanan saying his general's name, and then Ezra connecting that same name to the nightmare figure of Darth Vader – and suddenly his whole world was spinning out from beneath his feet yet again.

He didn't think too much about where he was going when he hurried away from the Jedi's quarters. He just needed to move. Maybe if he moved fast enough, he could outrun this revelation.

Images of Anakin assaulted his mind – memories of him leading his brothers in battle, the intensity of his expression in a fight, the genuine light behind his grin, his determination to do what was right, the sense of peace that settled about him whenever he was working with Ahsoka...

And then there was Darth Vader.

The Emperor's top enforcer, a man the rumors claimed had killed thousands, someone they also whispered had actually been involved with Order 66! As his reality spun further and further out of control, even more memories swam to the surface of his mind unbidden...

When he'd awoken to see his brothers had turned on Ahsoka...that he nearly had. His brothers or...his Ahsoka. That one decision that would define him. Not his years of faithful service. Not the battles he'd won. No. It was the moment the galaxy had fallen apart. The moment he'd taken his new-got free will in his own hands and chosen Ahsoka Tano over everything else, raising his blasters and firing on his own brothers!

The look of self-loathing in her eyes when she came back to help him, letting go her one chance at escape in order to save him. And because he knew her, he also understood. As much as he hated himself for having to turn on his brothers, she hated herself more for having put him in that position, and he could feel that hatred in the wetness of her tears, the pair of them weeping silently as they clung to each other in the aftermath.

"Rex...I'm sorry! I'm so sorry- I couldn't protect you..."

He never should've left...never should've let her go...but they'd both just been so torn up over what had happened...

...and Anakin – Anakin karking Skywalker – had had a hand in creating that reality? This nightmare galaxy?

The clone captain had thought he'd known pain, had thought he'd known devastation and despair. He'd thought he understood betrayal.

He'd thought wrong.

CT-7567 was not one for the open display of emotion. He was a soldier, and he knew...that sometimes the only advantage one had was the mastery of oneself. And so it would have bordered on horrifying for anyone who truly knew him to hear the tortured scream that was torn from his throat as he slammed an enraged fist against a metal surface.

"Rex!"

"Zeb, don't! He's not-"

He heard the voices of the other rebels, but he didn't comprehend their words. All he knew in that moment was rage and hate and sorrow. To be so betrayed by someone he had admired, trusted...someone who had made him feel like an individual with thoughts and opinions to be valued...someone to whom Ahsoka had trusted her life...something inside of him was breaking, shattering beyond help. He had lost his brothers, lost Ahsoka...he had lost the family they might have had together...and now it seemed, worse than he'd ever imagined, he had lost his general, his mentor.

What more could the galaxy possibly take away from him?

He cried out, screamed until he was hoarse, beat his fists against the ship's unfeeling hull until his knuckles were bloody, and still it did not relieve his suffering. All he was left with was a body that was just as battered as his spirit. Had he been able to, he almost would've preferred to dash his own brains out – anything not to have to endure this last and greatest betrayal.

"Why...why?" he hissed, voice falling into an anguished whisper as he pleaded with the universe, the Force, whatever power that was always standing idly by and allowing this horror to occur. As he curled in on himself, he gradually began to realize he was on his knees, in the cockpit of a ship – the Ghost.

"Rex?" a somewhat familiar voice called to him through his haze. Kanan. Kanan Jarrus...Jedi knight. They weren't all gone.

"K- Kanan?" he stuttered out hesitantly, starting to regather the shattered pieces of his control. Reaching out a hand, he gripped at the first solid thing he came into contact with – the pilot's chair.

"I am so sorry," the Jedi apologized in a firm, sympathetic voice, being careful as he reached a hand forward to rest it on the clone's shoulder. "I didn't even- think about the fact that you'd served with him. I should have been more careful. I'm sorry."

"I didn't want to believe it," he started, hands gradually falling helplessly at his sides, fingers twitching to reach for a blaster that would do no good against this enemy. "I'd love to say it's not possible...that Anakin Skywalker never could'a gone that way...but even I know that's not true. He was- so torn up...near the end. With Ahsoka gone...and him so karking close to Palpatine...he stopped coming to me. Maybe...there was something I could've done?" he wondered aloud.

"Don't," Kanan interrupted before he could say more. "Don't do that to yourself. We don't know what happened. More than that, you wouldn't have had any control over the choices he made."

"Do...do you think Ahsoka knew?" Ezra's awkward voice joined the conversation. "When she stayed behind on Malachor?"

Hearing that, Rex felt his heart break all over again. When he shifted to a sitting position, turning back to look at the other three worried men, he sighed heavily. "She must have. That's why she stayed- when she could've escaped. She felt- so guilty...for leaving him the first time. There was no way she could've done it a second time. It would've killed her," he acknowledged.

And look where it got her. She died anyway...killed by her own master.

"No," he started suddenly, before any of them could say anything more. "I don't know what that Sith thing is, but it's not Anakin Skywalker. The Anakin Skywalker I know died with the Jedi Order," he said firmly, clenching his hands into tight fists, despite the pain in them.

"You all right, mate?" Zeb asked. "Your eyes are kinda-"

"Don't worry about me," he interrupted, shaking his head as he attempted to get back to his feet. "We've got a job to do. Let's do it."

"Hey, wait, no," Kanan said sharply, preventing him from rising with a hand on his shoulder once more. "First we're gonna get those hands taken care of. Ezra, you got the med kit?"

"Gotcha covered," the young Jedi said with a grin as he squeezed in beside his master with the kit. Popping it open, he reached for Rex's left vambrace in almost the same motion.

"Ahh, this is ridiculous," the old clone said with a clipped sigh, though he didn't resist their efforts to patch him up. "It's not that bad."

"It's not ridiculous," Ezra scolded, applying bacta once he'd gotten the armor all the way off. "You're hurt. You need help."

"Yeah, but it's my own karking fault."

"Maybe so, but do you really wanna head into a mission dripping blood that could be traced back to you?" Kanan pointed out.

"What's it matter? The Empire already knows the Rebellion has clones in its ranks. What's one more clone matter to them?" he asked in a defeated voice as Ezra wrapped bandages around his bloody knuckles.

"No more than anything else matters to those stinkin' bucketheads," Zeb put in. "But you matter to us."

"Heh, right," he returned with a nod, offering Zeb a tired smile before looking around the cockpit. "Man, Hera's gonna be upset with me for getting blood on her ship."

"I don't think she'll have much to say if we bring her back some new pilots," Kanan said as he got to his feet.

"Right. Better get a move on, then," he said, only getting to his feet once Ezra had helped him back on with his armor. And though it went against every scrap of field training he had, he ventured from the Ghost with his thoughts divided and distracted. He had mastered himself outwardly, but the pain still clawing at his heart was focused on one being.

Vader.

It was...somehow different...knowing the true identity of Ahsoka's murderer. Before, the Sith had only been an enforcer of the Empire, an extension of their will. Now? Now it was personal.

I gave you everything I had to give, General. And what was my reward? You took my love from me. You took my child from me. I know it'll probably take the last breath in my body, but I don't care. I won't rest until I wipe the galaxy clean of everything you've done...until I see you dead at my feet. I'll make you pay for Ahsoka's blood or I'll die trying.

How he was going to get the drop on any Force user, light or dark, he didn't rightly know, but he did know something now that he hadn't before. Jango Fett had been chosen as the template for the Clone Army specifically for his ability to hold his own against Jedi. The Emperor had honed his perfect secret weapon in exacting detail from the very start. If he'd been designed to stand against a Jedi, he could stand against a Sith as well. It was bred into his blood and bones, wound tightly in his very genetic makeup. He had never carried out Order 66, but he would do it now.

"So where's this contact of yours holed up?" Kanan's voice suddenly snapped into his awareness with a note of worry. The knight had probably sensed the gist of what was roiling just beneath the surface of his calm exterior.

First step. Never forget how easily you can be read. Keep a lid on those emotions.

"Five String District," he answered succinctly, drawing his thoughts tightly to him like a shield as he nodded ahead, up through the myriad of beings milling about the port's market space. "Just a few more stalls up."

"Anybody we know?" Ezra asked.

"Yes and no," Rex answered with a wry smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kanan gave a small chuckle as his little riddle clicked into place in his head. "Pretty sure he means it's one of his brothers."

"Oh," Ezra started up after a moment of thinking about it. "Cool."

"Wasn't exactly easy to reconnect with Trek, but it's been worth it. He was part of an elite scout unit. He had hundreds of Seppie holes pegged back in the day," he explained as he led the group down a slant alley.

"Any particular reason you haven't brought him into the fold?" Zeb asked, glancing around the rear of the gang to make sure they weren't being followed before bringing up the end of the little line.

"He hadn't made up his mind yet. Pretty sure this run is him making it up, though," he said, expression shifting to a smaller, more genuine smile. More than his brother being an excellent resource for this fledgling rebellion, it would be nice to a see a familiar face in its ranks.

After a few more side streets and double backs, they arrived at the other clone's designated warehouse drop point.

"Everything looks in order," Rex noted as his eyes canvased the dilapidated building, seeing none of Trek's typical visual cues to warn of danger.

"Still...walk softly," Kanan warned before the group headed inside. "I don't know what it is, but something just- doesn't smell quite right."

"Trek? You around?" Rex called out as he did a visual scan of the front area. Almost immediately, his brother entered from a back room in an awkward flurry of motion that wasn't at all like him. For a moment, he stared at Rex with unsettlingly wide eyes. Rex returned the gaze uncertainly. "Vod?"

"Rex," he started, eyes going even wider as he struggled for words. But then his expression firmed up and he shook his head. "No. No. Get out of here! Get out now!"

"I warned ya, CT- 6223," a new and ugly voice entered the room. "Didn't I warn ya?"

Before Rex even had a chance to react, Kanan had his lightsaber drawn and was shouting.

"Zeb, run!"

"Wha-"

"Just trust me on this one, big guy. You've gotta get away from here!"

"Kriff that. I'm not gonna leave you all to-"

"Nobody. Is goin'. Anywhere," that same ugly voice said as its owner entered the room from the same entryway Trek had plainly been shoved through. That owner was a human male with unnaturally pale skin and long black hair that was tied simply at the nape of his neck. His attire wouldn't have been anything of note were it not for the fact that his vest clearly looked to be made of Wookiee fur. He eyed the four of them up and down with an entirely too pleased smirk on his face, and Rex would've loved to shoot that look right off; would've done were it not for the fact that the man had a blaster pressed to the side of Trek's head. "And if ya don't want anything to happen to your little friend or the infants we've got trussed up in the back, I'd recommend shuttin' down that light sword a' yours, Jedi," he spat out.

Kanan gave a long hiss of frustration before deactivating his lightsaber and tossing it aside.

"Rest a' you, too. Weapons on the ground!" the man snapped at them. Rex slowly lowered his blasters to the floor, but Zeb and Ezra were even slower to respond, both looking like they were contemplating ignoring the man.

"Ezra," Kanan said in a warning tone.

"But-"

"Put it down."

Letting out a similar frustrated hiss, Ezra tossed his weapon aside, leaving just Zeb with his bo-rifle in hand.

"Come on, Lasat. You heard me," the man taunted, pressing the muzzle of the blaster even more harshly against Trek's head. "I know you ain't deaf with those ears. Bo-rifle on the ground or I'll put a plasma bolt through this copy'n paste's head."

Rex bristled at the insult, half-tempted to go for his own weapons. Instead he kept his focus on Zeb, seeing the brief flicker of surprise in the former guardsman's eyes when their enemy correctly identified his weapon. But he ultimately obeyed, growling deep in his chest as he set the bo-rifle on the floor.

"So," the man continued, jerking his head back in the direction of the room he'd emerged from, "if you boys wanna join us in back, I've got a few things I think might interest ya."

"We're not interested in anything from you, Kuross," Kanan snapped out the name at the last, subtly letting them all know just what sort of situation they'd landed themselves in, because of course they all recognized the name.

The bounty hunter's eyes narrowed as he sized Kanan up, but he ultimately ended up sneering at him. "Guess my reputation precedes me, but I wouldn't want ya to make any snap judgements about this offer. Come on back," he invited.

If Rex had noticed the second bounty hunter blocking the exit, then the other three had almost certainly noticed her as well, Kanan and Ezra with their Jedi senses, and Zeb with his much keener hearing and sense of smell. But even if there were any point in trying to make a break for it, Rex never would. There was no way he would leave a brother in trouble. So, glaring at Giren Kuross in disgust, he followed after the bounty hunter, hearing the others fall into step behind him.

There were two more bounty hunters in the back, both too heavily clothed for him to make out either species or gender. Their blasters were trained on four bound young people, either Ezra's age or not much older – a human girl in Mandalorian armor, a Mikkian boy, and two Syren girls, so alike in appearance they were probably from the same egg clutch. The feathers that adorned their bodies would have been a pure white color were they not so matted with grime and blood, and if not for those feathers, he almost wouldn't have recognized the girls as Syren, as they lacked the distinctive wings of the bird-like people. These four were still breathing, but next to them were two more young ones who weren't so lucky. A human girl and a Bothan boy, both dead from blaster shots to the head.

"What was that you said about nobody getting hurt?" Ezra demanded, voice an unpleasant mix of anger and sorrow.

"Sorry for the confusion. That's only a guarantee if ya don't do anything stupid. These two weren't so smart. Now, to business," he said, forcing Trek to his knees beside his small band.

"What do you want?" Rex pressed solemnly, though he was unable to fully suppress the glint of anger he knew must be in his eyes.

"So I suppose you're all aware that the Empire pays top credit for rebel heads. We could be set for life, turnin' a group like this in."

Kanan shrugged. "Nice to be wanted, I guess."

The bounty hunter glared at the blind knight for several ineffectual moments before continuing with, "Dick around all ya want, Jedi. It won't change the fact that you're captives. Mostly I just want ya to understand my full meanin' when I say I'm willin' to let y'all go free."

"And what would you be wanting in exchange for such a- magnanimous offer?" Kanan asked, lingering over the longer word.

Kuross didn't seem to notice the subtle dig, though. His pale blue eyes fairly sparked as his gaze shifted to Zeb.

"I want the Lasat."

"No," Kanan snapped out without a moment's hesitation.

"Oh, ya might wanna think about your position before ya just-"

"No," the knight interrupted him harshly. "Your reputation does precede you. I know what you do with Lasat, and what you're no doubt going to propose is not, in any way, shape, or form, up for discussion."

"Even if it means innocent lives might get spared?" Kuross pressed in a snarl, reminding them of the clone he still held at blaster point. But then his gaze swept the small line of young people and he let out a dark chuckle. "Though, who's to say how innocent these lives really are? Lookin' to throw in with rebels and all. You should be grateful I'd be willin' to let 'em off."

"Kanan-" Zeb started in.

"Zeb, no," the Jedi warned him. "Trust me, you don't want to be within a parsec of this sleemo."

"Y'know he's right," Kuross said, smirking at Zeb in a way that would've had Coruscant's seediest escort shuddering in revulsion. "Never did take too kindly to a Lasat walkin' around with its hide still attached. And with Lasats bein' so rare these days, I could definitely get a pretty fine price for that fur," he said, jerking his head back to signal the fourth hunter to cover Trek. Once she had her blaster trained on him, Kuross moved toward Zeb, his expression growing oilier with every step. "Or I could think of a few more...interesting things to do with it. Know what this vest is lined with?"

A shiver of disgust ran through the entire group at the man's implication, but he didn't stop there. Blaster still trained on Zeb, he got right up in his personal space, shifting the vest open with his free hand to reveal the by now familiar purple coloring of Lasat fur.

Zeb inhaled sharply at the grisly sight, eyes going wide in horror, and in his moment of shock, the bounty hunter reached forward to run his fingers along the delicate fur at his neck.

"So soft," Kuross exalted, fingers digging in. "Like velvet and shimmer silk. Wouldn't guess at the power that hides underneath all that satin."

The unwanted touch and the profane words that bordered on assault finally seemed to snap the former guardsman out of his shock, driving him to growl low in his chest as he bared his teeth at the human.

"Ah, ah, ah," Kuross scolded him, still not withdrawing his hand. "One wrong move and it's hot plasma through their brains. Ya don't want that, do ya?"

Seething in desperate frustration, Zeb closed his eyes as he turned away from their captor, a very obvious shudder running through his massive frame. All the while, Kuross continued to stroke that fur.

"Stop," Zeb whispered in a voice so like pleading it broke something in all of the Spectres to hear it. "Just stop."

"Only if you beg me," the human hissed in his ear, loud enough for all of them to hear, stroking all the harder.

"No," the Lasat hissed back, softly, defiantly. But the next was more of a cry – of denial. "No."

"Stop this right now," Kanan growled at the bounty hunter. Rex had no doubt he was experiencing first hand just what it was Zeb was going through.

"If ya want it to stop, then ya deal with me," Kuross said, never once lifting his sadistic gaze from Zeb's tortured face. "Say it again, Lasat. Tell me to stop. Beg me."

But Zeb still refused, no matter how much this was clearly making him suffer.

"Just love the feel a' that silk against my skin. I tell ya, there's nothin' like it in the whole galaxy," Kuross said, stroking Zeb all the more intensely. Then he leaned up to whisper something in his ear, much too quiet for the rest of them. But whatever it was, it caused Zeb's eyes to burst open as his entire body went stiff. Then, clearly beyond his control, a very intense purring sound escaped his throat.

"That's what I thought," Kuross hissed in a sickeningly pleased voice. "Thanks for the ride, big boy."

Finally, blessedly, the hunter removed his fingers from Zeb's body, and the second they were gone, the Lasat collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath as he tried to stop himself from purring, the look of abject misery on his face saying that the damage had already been done.

"Zeb..." Ezra whispered in horrified shock.

"Could do all manner of unspeakables to this kriffing fine specimen before I kill him," Kuross said, not even acknowledging the Lasat as he moved away from him. "But, unfortunately, I find myself in a position where he'd be of more value to me alive. Zaniva pays damn good money for living subjects."

That one drew a sharp bolt of recognition from all of them. Still shaking, still purring, Zeb looked up at the human to ask him, "What- what did you say?"

"Zaniva BioTech. They'll pay some really hard credits to get their hands on you – alive. I don't ask what they do with 'em. I just collect my paycheck. Sometimes they let me have my fun," he said, throwing a leer over his shoulder. "But they've been hard asses about it this last year or so. My bet is they lost some of their animals and have been tryin' like kriff to replace 'em. And since I seem to be the only one who can track you Lasats these days, I've been gettin' the business."

Lost some? Could it have been- the group Arkalia came from? Her family?

"Sir," one of the Syrens called out to Rex, no doubt used to deferring to a clone as her source of authority, "we didn't ask your team here to suffer like this. Don't worry about us. Do what you have to."

"Oto vo pieah!" one of the bounty hunters snarled in Huttese, delivering a vicious blow to the side of the young woman's head.

"Tera!" her sister cried out in fear.

"Leave them out of this!" Trek snarled at the bounty hunters. "They're just kids."

"Like I said, more'n happy to let all of ya go for the price of just one," Kuross reminded them with another hungry glance in Zeb's direction.

"And I'm telling you again, that's not gonna happen," Kanan bit out.

"What's better, Jedi? That ya all get arrested or just one of ya? Thought you Jedi were supposed to be all about the good a' the all or somethin' ridiculous like that."

"The good of the all isn't much good if it has to be paid for with even one innocent. That isn't how we do things."

Kuross laughed as he shook his head, waving his blaster at Zeb. "Oh, this one ain't innocent. Got that on good authority. He's got reputation enough, has Garazeb Orrelios," he said with a sneer, taking in the look of surprise on Zeb's face with no small amount of pleasure. "Did ya really think it'd be that hard to get the history a' one of the only Lasat rebels in the galaxy? You weren't too tough to track. Though, on the subject of Lasats and rebels, don't suppose you've seen any around recently? More specifically, Lasats of a younger persuasion?"

Rex was sure they all felt the same jolt of panic at his words, but they all managed to keep it concealed, offering up angry, but largely blank looks. Even Zeb, still shaken from what the human had done to him, gave his attacker little more than an angered growl.

"When would we have seen somethin' like that?" he snapped out, angry but still weak. "Empire's made damn sure there's just a handful of us left."

"And this younger Lasat is one of that handful. Dunno if it's a boy or girl, but I'm guessin' one a' those escaped beasts was pregnant when she got out, 'cuz that's the only explanation I can think of for my seein' a Lasat brat runnin' free. So maybe if ya won't trade away one of you're own people, ya might be willin' to trade for someone who ain't one a' yours. How 'bout it? Seen any likely lookin' snot noses lately?"

Zeb let out a roar at that one, shooting to his feet, despite the fact that he was still shaky, his massive presence enough to dispel any remaining surface signs of weakness. "Even if we did know any such thing, why wold we ever turn over a child to the likes a' you?" he snarled. "You call my people beasts, but you're the monster here, Kuross!"

"Vod?" Trek called quietly to Rex in Mando'a whilst everyone else was distracted by Zeb and Kuross. "Ni cuyir ni ceta."

"Bic cuyir va gar betkr," he insisted. It did none of them any good to be taking blame for this. "Mhi cuyir slanar at slana'pir be ibic, a gar ganar at bu'cina mhi. Jetii alorir miai gupu sto," he said, the last igniting a sharp spark of pain in his heart. It would comfort his brother to be reminded of the fact that not all of the Jedi were gone, but...were the Jedi any more trustworthy than his fellow clones...if they could be turned away from everything they claimed to care about so easily?

Stop that! Kanan's not Anakin.

"Ruus'alor," the young Mandalorian's voice suddenly joined in on the whispered conversation, the closest to Trek and also able to understand what they were saying, "Gar kar'taylir bic cuyir tomad na ber betkr. Dinuir ni at etid. Mhi liser bu'bi'ha etid Ha'yr Arsane malyasa'yr sada jate'shya par ner yaim'ol."

Trek shook his head slowly. Nearly concealed by the dip of his neck, Rex saw his brother give the girl a small, heartbroken smile that took him right back to his first meeting with a fiery young Jedi padawan.

So if you're a captain and I'm a Jedi, technically I outrank you, right?

In my book, experience outranks everything.

"Nayc, ad'ika," he said, his eyes misty with regret. "Ibic solus cuyir harans gtahla. Gar cuyir kotep, a bic malyasa'yr am naas. K'oyacyi."

"Trek..." she whispered, eyes widening in horror at the simple command – the only way Trek had of saying goodbye to her.

"You! Clone!" the female bounty hunter snapped. "What are you muttering about?"

"Trek," Rex started in on his own whispered warning, fully aware his brother was about to do something very brave and very foolish.

"Rex...bruk etid," he said aloud before driving his head forward into the woman's midsection. Then he twisted upward into a kick, disarming her of her blaster.

Kanan quickly summoned the masterless weapon to his hand, firing at the first of the masked bounty hunters and shooting them through the forehead. The second dove for cover before the knight could deliver a similar fate.

The female hunter was not disarmed for long, though. Within seconds, she had a vibro-shiv in hand and that shiv had found its way between the plates of Trek's old armor.

"TREK!" Rex shouted as his brother cried out in pain, also hearing the girl shout the name. When the hunter turned her attention to him, the girl rushed her from behind, delivering a crunching body check, despite her small size and her bound wrists.

While the clone captain moved to his brother's side, Ezra leaped to unbind the new recruits. When her hands were free, one of the Syrens let out a bird-like screech and went for the other masked hunter while her sister pulled the Mikkian away from the bodies of their fallen friends, getting him to cover.

From the moment the chaos had erupted, Zeb had fixed his attention on Kuross. With an enraged roar, he went at the human, clearly intending to rip his head off. He easily dodged the man's blaster fire, quickly covering the distance between them.

"Zeb, wait!" Kanan shouted in a sudden panic.

But the warning had come too late. It was overshadowed by the sudden zing of a second vibro-shiv. Rex didn't actually see the moment Kuross buried the weapon in Zeb's side. All he saw was the two enemies standing together, Zeb with a look of agonized shock on his face and Kuross with a mocking sneer twisting his features.

Briefly, he leaned up, whispering something in Zeb's ear before violently jerking the vibrating blade from his body and creating an even more jagged wound. The Lasat was left to cry out in pain before collapsing entirely.

"ZEB!" Ezra cried out, rushing to his side.

"This ain't the end of it, Orrelios!" the bounty hunter warned as he headed toward the exit, the sneer he threw over his shoulder disgustingly gleeful. "I will find you, and any other Lasats ya might be hidin'!"

Kanan tried to get off one more shot at the fleeing bounty hunter, but Kuross just managed to slip away.

"Kanan!" Ezra cried out in panic, fingers covered in blood from where he'd attempted to put pressure on the wound. "It isn't- he's not- I don't-"

"Zeb," the knight called out as he moved in next to his apprentice and the barely conscious Lasat. "Come on, big guy, you gotta stay with us. We're gonna get you out of here, but you can't check out on me. Zeb!"

Rex watched the whole thing through a strange sort of daze. There was nothing he could do for his brother. Unlike Kuross' strike, the female bounty hunter's had been to kill. At least it had been quick...no suffering. Trek's young charge had already avenged him, trembling as she sat beside the hunter's body, the neck lying at an unnatural angle.

The Syren was crawling out from the last hunter's hiding place, her already matted feathers painted red with fresh blood. Her sister quickly came out from where she'd been covering the Mikkian to embrace her.

And Zeb...

Zeb had lost consciousness altogether, his breathing going ragged while Ezra and Kanan struggled to stabilize him. Even though Rex had no standard of comparison between human and Lasat in blood loss, the red staining the side of the former guardsman's body looked like entirely too much.

And even though he'd been through the standard counseling, had watched friends die in combat, had been through it a thousand times over, told himself endlessly not to take blame for it...he wasn't wholly able to keep the thoughts from skirting the edges of his mind.

Is this my fault? I brought them here. I came into this run with my head off in Wild Space. Maybe if I'd kept my focus, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe Trek would still be alive. Maybe Zeb would be all right.

If he dies...if he dies, his blood is on my hands.

XxX

Through smoke and fire, he sees them standing – the two Lasat. One with icy rage in his eyes and the other with fiery contempt.

His Lasat. The Lasat.

Almost as one, they draw their bo-rifles, Zeb's flaring to life with a burst of purple energy while the mercenary's comes awake with a similar snap of green. Snarling, they both drop into battle-ready stances.

"You hurt him," Zeb accuses. "You hurt my love."

"I should've done better. I should have killed him when I had the chance," the mercenary throws back at him as they begin to circle each other. "If I'd left him rotting in a shallow grave with the rest of his unit, maybe our people would still be alive."

"You should be the one rotting!" Zeb snarls. "I dunno what your story is, but you dishonor that weapon, attackin' the way you did."

"I dishonor nothing . I will kill any Imperial in any way I can. But you ...filthy slut . You betray all of Lasan just for a pretty piece of human flesh!"

If Zeb doesn't feel the sting of those words, Alex surely does. If there were any other Lasat still left alive...what would they think of their being together...of Zeb's choice to be with him? With a spike of guilt in his heart, he tries to move, to call out his love's name, but he can't. No matter how hard he tries, he can neither stir nor speak. Nothing.

"You don't know him!" Zeb growls. "You don't know a kriffing thing about him."

"Don't I? I know him better than you, I think. I've seen him at his lowest," the mercenary taunts. "I've broken him open. I've seen what's inside. I know him, Garazeb Orrelios, and if you think he's worth the sacrifices you make, you're wrong."

Zeb...please...don't-

But he does. Of course his fool of a Lasat rushes in to defend him. Zeb roars in fury as he charges the mercenary, their weapons clashing in a violent burst of noise and light.

With every move, every breath, Alex struggles to get closer, but he still can't move. Frozen, helpless to do anything but watch the fight unfold. Every strike sends a thrill of fear down his spine. Every near miss sends his heart seizing with terror.

Please, don't do this! Not for me. He's right. I'm not worth it!

And then it happens. The mercenary gets in a lucky strike, using Zeb's moment of distraction to draw his weapon back and drive forward with enough force to impale the former guardsman through the chest.

" ZEB! " he screams, voice finally escaping his throat in a torrent of raw anguish as his lover goes down.

The mercenary chuckles, his voice low and cruel, as he kneels beside his fallen opponent, and in that moment the nightmare figure transforms, becoming something human and disgustingly familiar.

Kuross. Giren Kuross.

The bounty hunter looks him in the eye, shivering with some sort of sickening anticipation as he slips a vibro-shiv from his belt.

"Should'a killed me when ya had the chance, Imp. This one's mine now."

I failed you.

My love...my Zeb...

Kallus bolted upright with a strangled cry. It took him longer than he would've liked to realize that it had all been a nightmare, that he was aboard the Lawbringer and not back on Onderon...that Zeb was all right.

Probably.

Panting heavily and soaked with sweat, it took him several moments to stumble his way over to the small refresher station opposite his bunk. He allowed the water to run a few seconds before gathering some in his cupped hands to splash against his face. He barely took the time to shut the water off before leaning against the cold metal skin of the destroyer and simply allowing himself to slide down it, coming to rest sitting haphazardly on the floor.

It tugged at the old thread of guilt in his heart to admit it, but the nightmares had not been as bad before he'd become Fulcrum. His own mental baggage had been much easier to deal with when he could simply ignore the whispers of his own misgivings, when he could shove it all to the back of his mind and just not deal with it.

Now, though?

Now it couldn't be ignored, and he had to deal with the years of guilt, self-doubt, and self-hatred he'd allowed to build up. And since he couldn't allow his own issues to interfere with his Fulcrum work, they were manifesting as horrible night terrors – images of the Spectres dying and him being unable to help them, of them dying by his own hand...nightmares of Lasan and Onderon...and worst of all, images of Zeb and Arkalia dying, of having to watch them perish over and over again and being unable to change their fate. Seeing Zeb gunned down by his former comrades...watching white-armored soldiers smash Arkalia's tiny, helpless body against some unfeeling ship's bulkhead...not unlike the one he was leaning against-

Kallus gave another small, strangled cry as he curled in on himself, pulling away from the cold of the wall.

Stars dammit all, get ahold of yourself, Kallus, he mentally thrashed himself. If anyone were to see him like this, it would be a oneway trip to a psych ward, and then he would be of no help to anyone.

Maybe, but you also won't be of any help to anyone if you go off crazy, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Kanan Jarrus responded from the back of his mind.

The knight had told him to talk to Zeb. So...maybe it was time to actually take a stab at that, instead of the abortive, disastrous attempt he'd made back on Alluvium. It had been painful...to call up those memories, but...wouldn't it be even more painful to let these nightmares grow worse?

Maybe...the next time they talked...really talked...

With a shaken sigh, the former Imperial dragged himself back to his bed. His heart rate and breathing had returned to acceptable levels, but he certainly wouldn't be getting anymore sleep tonight. May as well get something productive done. But first...

On a whim, he reached for the personal datapad he kept stored in the bunk's side compartment, taking a moment to tap out a brief message to Zeb. He wasn't expecting a response right away or anything. Wherever Zeb was at the moment, who knew what the time of cycle was in comparison with ship's time, but it eased something in him to reach out to his lover, even if it was only in the smallest capacity.

Ni Garazeb,

I hope you're well. There's no cause for alarm. I'm not contacting you with anything new to report or because something's wrong. I don't know why, really. I suppose I just wanted to know you and Lia are safe. I worry, as I'm sure you worry. Just comm me whenever you're able, ni alitha.

Lira ni ashkerra,

An s'ahn Alex

Kallus sent the message off with a small smile, imagining the look on Zeb's face when he read the Lasana. He'd been studying diligently and he was hopeful that it wouldn't be long before he was able to write his messages to the Lasat completely in his own language. It would certainly make him feel safer delivering words of endearment. He didn't dare commit such things to Basic when there was a chance they might be tracked. If he became fluent enough, it might even be possible to deliver his Fulcrum reports entirely in Lasana. Any extra layers of encryption he could give his intel would be useful.

Before he could switch datapads and continue his search for Zaniva and Ash Warrior, though, something crossed his mind – something he hadn't looked at in weeks. Something he'd loaded onto the datapad from a chip Sabine had given him...

Accessing the deeply entrenched collection of files, he opened them up to reveal the holos the young Mandalorian had taken during that week on Alluvium. The first image was of him and Zeb, and it must have been from that first night, because he was sound asleep against the Lasat's shoulder. Something in his heart twisted with both joy and longing to see the way Zeb gazed so adoringly down at him.

Next came several images of him and the Lasat, passing Arkalia back and forth as they fed her. Then one of Arkalia on her blanket in Sabine's bunk, smiling, her fur dotted with paint in several places.

There were a few images of Rex with the little Lasat, cradling her, dangling a toy for her, feeding her, the look of mixed happiness and longing so naked and vulnerable when he clearly thought he wasn't being observed that Kallus felt almost guilty for seeing it.

Sabine had taken images of Hera sitting in the pilot's chair in the Ghost's cockpit, Arkalia settled easily in her lap, reaching forward to bat at the controls with her tiny hands and feet, all while Hera laughed in captivated amusement.

There was a snapshot of Kanan holding the little kit, his countenance half way to panic as Arkalia reached up to try and pull on his mask. And an image of Ezra levitating Chopper for her amusement, the padawan's expression jubilant and Arkalia's little features caught mid-squeal, hands and feet reaching out from her carrier to grasp at the floating droid.

And of course there were holos of him and Zeb with her – Zeb rocking her as he sang to her, Kallus caught mid-laugh as he burped her, Arkalia smiling sleepily with her head resting against his shoulder, the image of her curled up asleep on Zeb's chest, her mouthing experimentally at his arm with the nibs of her milk teeth. There was a holo Kallus hadn't known Sabine had got – an image of him sitting cross-legged against a crate, dozing, with Arkalia lying in his lap, caught mid-yawn as she woke from her own nap. The next image was Zeb kneeling in front of them, smiling that same adoring, besotted smile. Following that was an image of Zeb kissing his forehead, and of him, smiling as he woke. Sabine must've scuttled off after that, because he remembered the moment, but he didn't remember seeing her there.

The holos followed, one after the other, images of all of them, smiling, laughing, happy.

A family.

Alex flipped through the images until his heart honestly ached with the joy of it. This. This was what he fought for...fought to protect. It didn't matter if he was worthy of it or not. It was still worth fighting for.

Ultimately, amazingly, the double agent actually found himself nodding off. Tired as he was, he took care to lock down the holo files and close out the datapad before actually allowing himself to fall back asleep.

If he did dream again, he was at least spared the memory of it.

XxX

Among the new recruits Trek had secured for them, there were mostly pilots. Interestingly enough, though, it was the Mandalorian girl who had some field medic training. A rare inclination among younger Mandalorians, none of the Spectres pressed the issue, relieved that between her and Kanan and Rex's practical experience, they were able to keep Zeb alive until they reached Atollon.

Likely, the only reason the Lasat had survived the attack at all was because he wasn't human. He was resilient enough, and stubborn enough, to survive an injury that would've killed a human. But even now, as the base medics were seeing to him, Kanan wasn't completely certain that Zeb was going to pull through, and that was eating at him. So many times during the flight back, he had felt his friend drift so close to gone there had been several times he'd feared he was already dead. Even though he felt certain it had not strictly been Kuross' intention to kill, he also didn't imagine it truly mattered to him whether Zeb lived or died. All that would matter to him would be whether or not he was the one to kill Zeb.

Arkalia had been bawling inconsolably ever since the Ghost had made planetfall. Nothing any of them did could comfort the baby Lasat. So while the medics continued their work on the former guardsman, Ezra and Sabine had taken the little kit off somewhere, hoping to distract themselves just as much as her.

Kanan, meanwhile, was pacing anxiously outside of their rudimentary med center, waiting to hear something, anything. Senses on high alert, he felt Hera's approach before he actually heard her, exhaling despondently as she exited the room.

"Anything?" he asked her.

"Nothing new to report. It's still very touch-go in there. They're doing everything they can."

Kanan groaned in frustration, and before he could stop himself he was snapping out, "That's not good enough!"

"Kanan?" her voice came to him in question before she laid her hand on his shoulder. "You know there's only so much that can be done. With his physiognomy, they have to be very careful what types of biochems they use, or they could just end up making things worse."

"I know. I know," he bit out with another groan.

"Then what's wrong, love?"

Slowly, Kanan reached up a hand to rest over hers, shifting until they'd twined their fingers together. "I just- I can't help but feel like this is somehow my fault."

"Kanan-"

"I knew Kuross was out there. I knew he'd have his sights on Zeb. I've just been so distracted lately. Maybe the Force did warn me and I just wasn't listening. I don't know. I just feel like if I'd been paying that little bit more attention, I could've stopped this," he confessed, clinging tightly to her hand as he drew in ragged breaths.

Hera took a deep breath of her own before reaching up to slip his mask off. Then she leaned up to rest her forehead against his.

"You're not a miracle worker, Kanan. You can't be expected to take care of everything. Zeb's a capable warrior. He can handle himself. He knew there was a threat, too. It's just- sometimes things go wrong," she said softly, her breath ghosting soothingly against his skin.

"But that's what a Jedi's supposed to be for...for when things go wrong. I should've-"

Before he could go off on himself again, Hera silenced him with a finger against his lips. "You can't live your life by these visions. You know that. It's like you keep telling Ezra. You did exactly what you should have. The rest is up to Zeb."

Releasing a long sigh, Kanan finally nodded. "Yeah. You're right."

"Of course I'm right," she said, and he could practically feel the way her lips shifted into a small smile. "Do you want to wait here for him to wake up or do I need to find something else for you to do?"

"I- I think I'll stay here. I need to get myself centered again," he said, pulling her into his arms for a brief hug. He could feel her about to say more, but whatever she might've said, it was interrupted when his grip on her tightened minutely.

"What is it?" she asked, feeling his sudden tension.

"We're not quite alone anymore," he said softly, taking a step back from her.

He'd almost missed the sounds of the footsteps altogether, they were so light on the floor, but he did manage to pluck the whisper-soft noise from among the base's other ambient sounds. With footsteps that light, it definitely had to be one of the Syrens.

"You can come talk to us," he called out when the sound fell off some distance away. "We don't bite."

When the feather-light steps resumed, they were accompanied by a small, tired laugh. "Even if you did, you can't bite much worse than the Empire already has."

"You're one of the new ones," Hera said quietly, her voice taking on the tone of a person speaking to a spooked animal, but Kanan could also feel how she tensed when she turned to take in the young woman's appearance. "What's your name?"

"My name is Terachor Shylene."

"Rex said you were- dust bound," Hera continued in the same steady tone, though the last words came somewhat haltingly, and it was this that finally answered Kanan's question about Terachor and her sister. Her gait was light, but not light enough to account for what it should have been if she'd had wings. She was among the many young Syrens whose wings had been cut by the Empire. Dust bound was the phrase they used to refer to themselves.

There had been too much going on during the flight from Kafrene for him to attempt to untangle the emotions of their new recruits, but at Hera's words, he felt a profound sense of loss emanate from Terachor through the Force. Her next words were spoken light-heartedly, but for Kanan, they didn't mask the agony of her spirit.

"Well, I certainly hope you didn't think we could pilot for you if we still had wings. There hasn't been a fighter made yet that could accommodate a Syren's wingspan," she said with another small laugh. "Being a pilot helps, but...it's not really the same," she finished helplessly.

"I know. I don't imagine I can say I understand, but...I'm sorry," Hera soothed in that way of hers.

"It's all right," Terachor said quickly. "It was- many years ago. Mostly, I- I wanted to see how Captain Orrelios was faring."

"No news yet. The medics are still working," Hera told her.

"I see," she said, her voice heavy. "If there's anything any of us can do, please let us know. We feel bad about it...what you all went through to get us out of there."

"You don't need to," Kanan spoke up as he turned in her direction. "Some of us bear a bit more responsibility than others. Do you know how Kuross tracked you?"

"For that, you might have to talk to Zelina. I know Trek was taking responsibility, but she seems to think it was something she did. But you...you're a Jedi?" she asked him, voice dropping a little more in volume.

"I try to be," was his response. "But whatever I may or may not be, I do know what it's like to lose a part of yourself."

He couldn't see her nod, of course. Nor was there any particular sound that indicated it. It just seemed right to him when taken with the sense he got from her in that moment. He could also feel her getting ready to say something else, but she was interrupted by a sudden string of whistles from Chopper.

"No," Hera said pointedly to the little droid as he trundled up to them. "That's definitely not up for discussion. What were you doing in their bunk anyway?"

When Chopper reached them, Kanan could hear Hera taking something from him. She examined whatever it was for only a few moments before inhaling sharply.

"What is it?" Kanan asked her.

"It's Kallus," she responded in a hushed, pitying tone. "He's been trying to get in touch with Zeb."

Chapter Text

Kallus couldn't be completely certain at this point, but he didn't think he'd slept at all in the past seventy-two hours.

Reality had slipped into something of a daze ever since his brief transmission with Hera and Kanan. They'd informed him of the run-in with Giren Kuross, of Zeb's injuries and what little they'd learned of the bounty hunter's freelance work with Zaniva. Knowing it would be disastrous for all of them if he were to allow his worry to show on the surface, he had thrown himself into his search for Project Ash Warrior with renewed fervor.

He hadn't expected to receive a holo communication. It was either a very good or a very bad sign. Anxious to see the face of his lover, he was instead disheartened to see the face of the Ghost 's captain.

"Captain Syndulla?"

"Alex...something's happened to Zeb."

Armed with the knowledge that Kuross contracted with Zaniva, Kallus had pushed his activities forward under the guise of reopening the case of Jidu Ailytè. Where her intel had ceased with Zaniva's planetside activities on Salear, his had been able to continue offworld, following Kuross' professional trail throughout the galaxy.

And of course, not at all to his surprise, that trail led to Manaan.

"Thank you- for telling me," he said to Hera. "I'm certain it would've been a tactically superior choice to keep me uninformed. Thank you."

"I'd be lying if I told you there wasn't debate about not telling you. That would've been Commander Sato's preference," the Twi'lek said with a sigh, her holographic image flickering briefly. "But I know what he means to you, and I judged you were capable of handling the situation with a level head."

"Thank you...Hera."

The grueling search had been fueled by anger, terror, and desperation. The vow to himself that he would find the source of all this had been the only thing keeping him from going to the Lawbringer's bridge and dragging the ship out of hyperspace. Maybe crashing a Star Destroyer into a star could serve as some twisted form of penance?

Perhaps Hera's faith in my level-headedness was misplaced?

Either way, he'd come out mostly alive on the other side of it, kept functional by caf and stims and caf with stims. Now if he could just convince himself that the shadows in the corners of the conference room weren't actually leering at him with Giren Kuross' face – laughing at him with that uncouth voice.

Should'a killed me when ya had the chance, Imp. Your Lasat plaything's mine now.

Seething and trembling, Kallus had to resist the urge to reach for a blaster. This was dangerous; he knew. It was extremely dangerous to play this game of spies on so little sleep, but he was fairly certain that if he didn't find out the truth one way or the other before he left this room, he would simply go mad.

The first truth he'd had to face was that, whatever was happening on Manaan, one of his former superiors was in charge of the facility there.

Colonel Schader Masaada had been in command of the ground forces during the Siege of Lasan. With his knowledge of the Lasat people, it had been to her that he was assigned as a special agent, in command of his own company of stormtroopers. Between the two of them, they'd come to the decision to use the T-7 ion disruptors. They, along with four other officers, were the ones who had come to be known as the Butchers of Lasan – and Masaada was the one who had taken the fall for that decision.

The colonel had gone alone before the court-martial panel, taking full blame for the decision to use the experimental weapons. The only reason she hadn't been thrown in jail was that the suppression had been viewed as a great victory. Masaada had been in command of only four regiments and a company of stormtroopers. It had been said it was impossible to take Lasan with such a small force, but they'd done it. Were it not for the how of it, she would've almost certainly been promoted instead of court-martialed. She'd insisted on taking full responsibility not only because Kallus was at the beginning of what looked to be a shining career, but also because hers would've been over regardless of the outcome.

She'd been blinded in the battle.

With the panel absolving her of the war crime charge, it would have been easy for Command to offer Masaada honorable discharge and a comfortable retirement. It seemed she had not taken such an offer, though. Whatever deal had been struck, she had spent the last decade quietly overseeing this top secret operation, serving as military attache to Zaniva. If nothing else, Kallus supposed he could be grateful he had something of an in with the project's commander, but that didn't mean he was any less uneasy to learn just what it was Project Ash Warrior was all about.

Taking a few deep breaths to center himself, Kallus squared his shoulders as he activated the conference room's holo communications, sending his transmission to Manaan. It didn't take long for a holographic image of Schader Masaada to appear before him.

The years behind the colonel were certainly telling. Even through the slight discoloration of the holo image, he could see the streaks of gray in her auburn hair, pulled back from her face into a simple Chandrilan knot at the base of her skull. A slender black visor banded her useless eyes, but the scars emanating from them were still visible, standing out starkly from her pale skin, particularly a long, ugly one that ran the full length of her face, from her right brow down to her chin.

"Greetings, Colonel Masaada," he said formally, inclining his head before he could remind himself that it was unnecessary.

"Alexsandr Kallus," she greeted in a tone that was part amusement and part curiosity. "I can honestly say I hadn't been expecting to hear from you. Still the ISB's darling?"

"Yes, for which I must thank you again," he returned, grateful to still be a part of the bureau, even if it was no longer for the reasons his peers would assume. "After all, it was you who saved my fledgling career."

"No thanks needed. It was the least I could do. The victory on Lasan was largely due to your efforts, after all. A talent such as yours should not go to waste on the short sightedness of others."

"Thank you, Colonel," he said, making absolutely certain his voice would not break on the words before even daring to speak them. Praise for the skills he'd put to good use on Lasan were just about the last thing he wanted to hear right now.

"So, Agent, to what do I owe the pleasure of your comm?"

"I have been tracing a group of insurgents for some months. They identify themselves as Phoenix Cell and one of their number attempted to break into Zaniva's home offices some time ago."

"Mm, yes. I recall the incident," she said with a nod. "It was nearly quite the embarrassment."

"Indeed. We'd not initially been able to identify what Ailytè was looking for or just how much intelligence she was able to steal. She was liberated from our custody before I could conduct a proper interrogation, but I've recently been able to pick up her trail again. From what I can gather, it seems Phoenix Cell has become fixated upon your installation."

Masaada's forehead was only partly visible above her visor, but the small stretch he could see wrinkled up in mild concern at his words.

"How would these rebels have learned of our work?"

"Zaniva contracts independently with bounty hunters, do they not? Rather than avail themselves of official military channels?" he pointed out. "Bounty hunters have never been the most trustworthy sort. Anything can be had of one for the right price."

Sighing heavily, the colonel nodded. "You are right, of course. But why should your insurgents be interested in this place? It's not exactly a tactical high point."

"To unravel that mystery, I would need to know exactly what sort of research is being undertaken at the Manaan facility," he said. A perfectly reasonable request from a perfectly reasonable ISB agent. There was no cause for her to refuse.

But, even so, the colonel tensed slightly at his request. "I have no doubt your clearance is high enough for this, Alexsandr, but you must understand...the Senate raised such a massive fuss over the Lasat sixteen years ago. If any of this were to ever get out-"

"If the information ever got to the Senate, I guarantee you it would not be through me," he promised her. "But if a rebel cell already has the information, then we need to do everything in our power to stop them interfering with your work. I can help you do that. We just need to figure out what it is they might be after. Schader...you know you can trust me," he needled her, feeling only a tiny twinge of guilt for the lie.

The colonel's countenance went pensive for several long moments. Moments in which the former Imperial kept his silence in waiting for her answer. He had said all he could say. Anything more would either push her away or rouse her suspicions.

Ultimately, though, she nodded.

"I know I could trust you to do what needed to be done on Lasan. I'm sure I can trust the same of you now. Do you recall that we were tasked with the procurement of a ten percent genetic sampling of Lasan's population?"

"I do," he answered stiffly. "I suppose I'd always assumed that was- blood work. Collection of genetic samples for future research."

"Some of it was, but mostly it was collection of actual Lasat subjects. Juveniles were preferred."

"I see," Kallus said, maintaining a perfectly calm exterior, despite the revulsion slowly beginning to crawl up his throat. "I was- unaware of the particulars of the assignment."

"Indeed, you would've been. Your company had the task of breaching the enemy lines. Dana's battalions were tasked with...actually filling Zaniva's order. And it was under express command of the Emperor that their project remain secret. That was why it was never brought to account during my court-martial."

"And just what was that project?"

And she told him.

She told him exactly what Project Ash Warrior was, and with every word from her mouth, he felt another piece of himself crumble and twist into ash, wearing down his already precarious sanity. That he could've been party to such a thing, whether unknowingly or not...that Arkalia was most likely a product of it...that the Empire he had once believed in was even capable of something so abominable...if he'd had even a scrap of faith there was something about this system of government that was salvageable, Schader Masaada destroyed it in little more than half a standard hour.

"Thank you for your time, Colonel," he said to her when she'd finally come to the end of it. "This has been most informative. I shall contact you again once I've learned more of what the rebels are planning."

"Of course. I will expect to hear from you," she said before cutting the communication.

Once the hologram had gone silent, Kallus stood before the projector for several minutes, not moving or speaking, barely even breathing. When he finally managed to convince himself to move, the first thing he did was use his code cylinder to deactivate the conference room's security protocols.

Safely off the Imperial network for a few moments, the agent let loose an angry, tortured scream as he delivered a blow against the nearest wall, relishing the snap of pain up his arm when his fist connected with the metal surface. Drawing in several ragged breaths, he sank slowly to his knees. It took him several minutes more to talk himself down from punching the wall again. He couldn't risk leaving the security deactivated any longer than he already had.

It was a testament to his ISB training, that he managed to make the walk back to his quarters with a perfectly calm and collected look fixed to his face. No one would've known to look at him the breakdown that was happening on the inside.

Monster.

Monster.

Monster!

Once he'd finally made it back to his quarters, he went straight for his datapad, hastily opening up Sabine's file to look through the holos from Alluvium.

Garazeb.

Arkalia.

My Zeb...my Lia...

"Dear heart," he whispered in quiet agony as he looked on the kit's joyful face...on Zeb's loving smile, "ni kyra...I would give up all my time with you to come...if I could undo what they have done."

He kept flipping through the images, kept going until they began to blur in his vision, forcing him to acknowledge that he was crying – sobbing. He cried until he couldn't cry anymore, until he was empty of tears and his lack of sleep had finally caught up with him.

Utterly exhausted, Alexsandr Kallus curled up beside his bunk and fell into a deep sleep, his datapad still clutched loosely in one hand.

XxX

Kallus awoke to the sound of some rather aggressive banging on his door. It took him several sluggish minutes to recall exactly why that was.

The cycle! He'd fallen asleep in the middle of the kriffing cycle. Probably missed an important meeting or two while he was at it. He leaped to his feet just in time for Konstantine to override the security on the door...

...and for him to remember the unsecured datapad he still held clutched in his hand.

He kept a mostly neutral expression in place as the storm-faced admiral pushed his way into the room, despite the way his heart was pounding.

"Where, exactly, have you been?" he demanded, glaring at the ISB agent. "We've been trying to reach you for the better part of an hour now."

"I- apologize," he answered in a stilted tone, sleep still clinging to his voice. "I must have nodded off."

"And slept like the dead if you didn't even hear your own comlink," the man hissed. "Cause for a write-up at the very least."

"The very least," Kallus conceded. "I have- overextended myself these last few days and it seems the strain has finally caught up with me."

"Then you can explain yourself to the grand admiral," Konstantine told him, giving Kallus barely a moment to prevent himself from starting when Grand Admiral Thrawn entered his quarters.

"My deepest apologies, Sir," he said, inclining his head toward the Chiss while, beneath the surface, his thoughts raced. Had he really been so intent on Ash Warrior he'd missed the fact they'd been due to rendezvous with the Chimaera? "It seems I truly have been letting my work get away with me."

"There is no apology needed for dedication to duty," he returned, keeping eye contact with Kallus while Konstantine continued to go off.

"Dereliction could be an issue, though. We find you asleep on shift with an unofficial datapad in hand. What even is that?" the man demanded, starting to reach for the device.

Kallus didn't waste time panicking, though he certainly felt the jolt of it through each limb. Konstantine was easy enough to deceive, but Thrawn would know instantly if he had something to hide. Without even looking, he entered a pre-programmed single tap command, instructing the datapad to purge all its contents.

"Nothing," he answered smoothly as the admiral took the now blank device in hand. "Spare datapad. I- think I'd been trying to take a few more notes before I fell asleep."

"There now," Thrawn said to Konstantine's clear frustration at indeed finding the datapad blank. "Hardly dereliction of duty. A simple case of oversight. Although...am I to understand that you have not been sleeping, Agent Kallus?" he asked as he turned his glowing gaze back to the agent.

Kallus briefly rubbed at his temples before answering. "As you said, Grand Admiral, merely a case of oversight on my part. I have been known to forgo sleep when working cases."

The Chiss sized him up for what felt like several long minutes. Kallus was unable to read anything in his expression, but that was typically the case with Thrawn anyway. It was almost the equivalent of a shout when he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side before speaking again. "An unwise decision, Agent. Valuable an asset as you are, you are certainly no good to the Empire if you get no rest."

"Of course, Sir," he acknowledged, portraying an undercurrent of chagrin. "But it is sometimes difficult to deny the results of extra work."

"Difficult, but not impossible. I take it you have made headway with the Ailytè case?"

"I have. More than I had before, at least, but it may take some time yet to discover what the rebels are actually planning."

"Well, one must take good news where one may."

"Indeed."

"If we could perhaps return to the issues at hand," Konstantine suggested with a slight sneer between the two of them.

"Of course. You may return to your office, Konstantine. The agent and I will join you shortly."

Konstantine's eyes widened and his cheeks puffed out as half an indignant grunt escaped his mouth. Both men recognized the dismissal and the admiral seemed ready to protest, but that was before the Chiss turned his laser focus upon him.

"Admiral Konstantine?"

"Yessir," he said, saluting stiffly before exiting Kallus' quarters, leaving him alone with the grand admiral.

"Was there...something you wished to speak to me about, Sir?" Kallus asked when those red eyes alighted on him once again.

"Nothing of immediate consequence, but you do seem to have been placing yourself under considerable strain of late. Anyone half paying attention would see that you are in distress even now. The dried tear tracks on your face, for example," he pointed out, and though he did not come closer, Kallus had to resist the urge to take a step back, feeling distinctly like he was under attack.

The response he displayed instead was frustration, channeling the bolt of fear that traveled down his spine into something like anger as he swiped at the dried tracks of salt on his cheeks. "Apologies," he stuttered out. "This is not- seemly."

"What is necessary is never unseemly. You seem to be taking these more recent cases harder than several of your previous ones."

"Well...many of these assignments have brought back memories that are- not entirely pleasant for me," he stated, again offering information that was not untrue. There was little Thrawn could call him on if he wasn't actually lying.

"And has there been no psychiatric evaluation done?" Thrawn pressed him. "You were tortured, after all."

"No more than was required to return me to active duty. What was done was more...psychological than physical," he explained, falling back on what Kanan had told him to say he had attempted. "The Jedi...has many mind tricks."

"Of that much, I am aware. But it is all the more reason you ought to speak with someone about it, I believe."

Kallus shook his head. "You have not- been with the Empire all that long, as I recall. It would be seen as weakness...to seek such help. I am not helpless."

"Not yet," Thrawn said in a voice that may or may not have been a subtle threat. "But you may become so if you continue to let these memories plague you. Then you will surely be of no use to the Empire."

By this point, Kallus truly had no idea if this was all genuine interest or concern on the Chiss' part, or if he was curious because he suspected Kallus. But if he were already suspicious, wouldn't he just come right out with those suspicions? Maybe Thrawn really just couldn't figure him out? Besides, why should Thrawn of all people even care if he was haunted by memories? Grand Admiral Thrawn. The man Kallus was quite certain would go down in history as the slaughterer of the Batonn Sector.

"It's war. If we cannot handle the difficult things, who will?"

"Who indeed?" the grand admiral returned with that same look of almost curiosity Kallus had grown used to seeing from him of late. "Well, if nothing else, I can sympathize with the making of difficult decisions. I will permit you to handle this as you see fit. But know that if it continues to be a problem, I am not above ordering a complete psychological evaluation."

"Of course, Sir," Kallus said, inclining his head minutely toward his superior. "I shall do my utmost to do better."

"Excellent. And now, I believe Admiral Konstantine and the others are awaiting us," he said, exiting the room without another word.

Kallus took a moment to leave his wiped datapad on his bunk before following after the grand admiral. In the wake of its loss, he felt an aching hollowness in his chest – an awful sense of loss. It had been a foolish, sentimental decision to keep those images with him, he knew, but...he'd needed them, and he felt their loss keenly.

Get a grip, man, he scolded himself, briefly clenching his hands into fists as he trailed silently after Thrawn.

It wasn't as if the holos no longer existed. Sabine still had the originals. He could get them from her when...when it was safe to do so...

...if it was ever safe to do so.

Either way, he couldn't allow himself to dwell on it. He would have to keep a tighter lid on himself than he ever had before if Thrawn was starting to notice any suspicious behavior on his part. He had no idea if the Chiss' prying was merely that of a concerned superior, or if it was maybe even...some sort of game to him, because he couldn't figure Kallus out. Whatever it was, he couldn't let it progress far enough for the grand admiral to follow through on his threat to order an evaluation. That would be much too dangerous.

Whatever else was happening, he now knew, above all else, that he had to figure out a way to shut Project Ash Warrior down. Its very existence mocked any ideal he'd hoped he' been fighting for on Lasan. It was an affront to the memory of the Lasat people, and a nightmare web that defiled those remaining who were still caught up in it. Worst of all, while it existed, it was a danger to the ones he loved. More than being Lasat, both Zeb and Arkalia would be considered prime specimens for their abomination of a project. The thought was so abhorrent, he was almost certain he would've thrown up had there been anything in his stomach.

He would die before he let that happen.

He would allow the galaxy to burn before he ever allowed Zaniva to get their hands on his family.

Zeb...I know this isn't what you would want to hear, but I vow...I swear...if it takes the last breath in my body, I will stop this. I will not let it go on.

XxX

"But why don't you want it?"

"It's not really about what I want, Zelina. The fact is virtually no other Mandalorian would want to see me with it."

Zeb shifted faintly as the voices drifted into his awareness. One he knew. Sabine. The other was unfamiliar, probably younger.

"But why should what they want matter right now? They're not always right. Trek used to tell me-"

"Would you want it? If the Dark Saber had wound up in your hands, would you be able to make the choice to take it up?"

What the kriff were they talking about?

"It didn't come to me, though. It came to you. Any Mandalorian should be proud to wield it."

"That's not what I asked you."

"Ashla na silir sa Mand'aki'a," he groaned in his own language as he blinked awake. "Some of us were still sleepin'."

Once the Lasat had properly come to, it was to find himself in the base's small infirmary. At some point, his armor had been removed and his suit was rolled down around his waist, leaving the heavy duty bacta patch on his left side bare for all the world to see. Beside the barely large enough cot he was laid out on, Sabine was sitting on the floor with another young human with Arkalia lying on a blanket between them, chewing intently on the other human's fingers. The girl's bodysuit was a mix of black and deep red, while her actual armor was a dark violet shade with accents in that same almost blood red color. The girl's skin was a shade darker than Sabine's and her mop of light brown braids was pulled back from her face, displaying a pair of wide dark brown eyes.

The moment Sabine heard his voice, though, she was leaping to her feet, everything else forgotten.

"Zeb!" she cried out, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. The lance of pain from the still-healing wound told him exactly how badly he'd been injured if the mere grip of a human could cause such pain.

"Karabast," he hissed in a much higher tone of voice than he typically allowed to escape his throat, though he did manage to return the hug for a moment before Sabine was pulling back. "E- easy on down there. It's a bit tender."

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized as she stepped back, offering up a weak smile as she pushed a lock of hair back from her face. It looked like she was overdue for a haircut. "We've just all been so worried about you."

"What...what happened?" he asked, gaze slowly shifting between her and the other young Mandalorian. And when his brain identified the other girl as Mandalorian, the details slowly started to come back to him.

The mission to Kafrene...Rex's fellow clone...the new recruits...those kids...

Kuross.

He remembered the stab of pain when the bounty hunter's blade penetrated his side...the feel of warm blood, sticky in his fur.

He remembered the unwelcome press of the human's fingers against him, stroking upon an ancient pulse point no Lasat had any control over...a hated, unwanted bolt of pleasure...

"You don't remember?" Sabine's voice briefly cut through the flicker of nightmare.

" Beg me. "

"I know exactly what you Lasats like," he whispers, breath hot against his ear as he rubs possessively at the pleasure point. "Been a long time there, Captain?"

"D'ya feel that, big boy?" he hisses with the harsh twist of the vibro-shiv. "Do ya feel me inside you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, waving the girl off. He was not going to give Giren Kuross the satisfaction of haunting his nightmares. "I remember well enough. Piece of kriffin' scum. How long was I out?"

"Four days," the new recruit supplied, gathering Arkalia in her arms before getting to her feet. "The shiv was probably tipped with some poison none of us could identify. You've been having fever episodes."

"I'll go let the others know you're awake," Sabine said before ducking out of the infirmary.

"Uh, uh, uh, dah!" Arkalia whimpered anxiously before a distressed trilling noise began to sound from her throat. Wriggling in the younger Mandalorian's arms, she reached out both hands for Zeb. The girl gave a small smile as she settled the baby on his chest, being careful to place her high enough above the injury site.

"Hey there, little squeak," he greeted the kit, purring as he cradled her close against him. As her unhappy noises began to shift into similar purring sounds, he nuzzled his face against her tiny head, unable to help the widening of his smile when she began to copy the gesture. Then she was climbing higher, squealing as she nipped playfully at his ear. "I hope you've been a good girl while I've been under."

"Not really," the young human admitted with a wry grin, "but she's been worried. Everyone has. I'm sorry- I don't know much about Lasat physiology. There wasn't much I could do during the escape."

"That's all right," he said as he looked over at her. "Most beings don't. Kuross was never plannin' to kill me. Would'a had to get my right side for that. Pretty sure he knew that."

"I'm- Zelina, by the way," she introduced herself with an awkward bob of her head. "Zelina Arsane. Mostly people call me Zel."

"Zeb," he returned with a smirk as he tickled Arkalia under the chin. "Short for Garazeb."

Zelina nodded with a small smile of her own. "Hopefully I'll have a chance to get it right in the future. Saving your life, I mean."

"Well, you won't be hard up for opportunities. I'll tell you that much."

Zelina had only the chance for a single laugh before Sabine was reentering the room, Rex and Ezra right behind her.

"Zeb!" the young Jedi cried out, making to leap forward. "You're all right!"

"Yeah, no. None of that," Sabine stopped him by throwing an arm across his chest. "I already made that mistake once today, and I'd say our Lasat has a limited number of mistakes right now. You wanna hug it out, you do it gently."

Ezra rolled his eyes, grumbling in annoyance. "Fine," he said, being careful as he wrapped his arms around the former guardsman, squashing an indignant Arkalia between them. The motions were careful and gentle, but Zeb could feel the relief in the young man's much smaller frame as he hugged him.

"Thanks for not dying," Ezra said softly. "Ari wouldn't have been able to stop crying."

"Right. Can't have that."

"No, we can't," Rex agreed as he stepped up, briefly resting a hand on the Lasat's shoulder. "Nothing worse than children crying."

"Yeah. Noisy brats," he said, sticking his tongue out at Sabine and Ezra before pressing a kiss to the top of Arkalia's head.

"Hey!" Ezra mock-protested while Sabine stuck her tongue out in kind.

"On the subject of kids, though," she continued in a somewhat easier tone, "I do have some good news for you. Ketsu finally got back to me with that translation, so I've got a new song for you."

"Nice. Tell her thanks, yeah?"

"Sure."

"Zeb!" Hera's and Kanan's voices were next to join the fray. Zeb looked up to see them entering the infirmary with looks of relief on their faces. Hera approached and gave him a gentle hug while Kanan stood at her side, tension visibly draining from his body.

"It's good to have you back, big guy," the blind Jedi said with a wry smile. "You really had us going there for a bit."

"Sorry...for that, and for- not really listenin' to you before," he said.

Kanan shrugged helplessly. "Nah. I should've known better than to think you'd actually run away from a fight."

"Yeah, you're not exactly- hrgh!" What he'd meant to say was broken off in the middle by his grunt of pain when he attempted to sit up.

"No, no, no. Don't push it," Hera scolded him as she plucked Arkalia from his arms. "I'll hold her while Ezra helps you sit up. You're not out of the woods just yet."

Zeb rolled his eyes, but he didn't protest when the young Jedi moved in to help him sit up. He felt a sting of bitter embarrassment at needing to be helped like this, but it looked like there was no getting around it. He wasn't fully healed.

"Well, other than my sorry backside wasting our med supplies, did I miss anythin' else while I was out? Maybe somethin' new from our Fulcrum?" he suggested, hoping for maybe a little more good news.

What he received instead was almost the exact opposite. The relieved warmth was sucked from the air like oxygen from an airlock. Zeb saw the nervous, uncertain looks his fellow Spectres were exchanging amongst themselves, every single one of them looking everywhere but at him.

"Guys?" he pressed, worried now. What had happened?

"It's-" Sabine started.

"There wasn't..." Kanan tried.

"He's not exactly-" Ezra also tried, with no more luck than the others.

"He's not hurt, is he?" he demanded, looking between them all, fear now creeping down his spine. "You guys? Don't do this right now. Tell me he's all right."

Hera was the one to finally break through the awkward, fumbled explanations, a look of sympathy on her face as she shifted Arkalia into a one-armed hold. She then reached her free hand forward to rest on his shoulder as she started to speak. "Zeb...he was trying to contact you very soon after you were hurt. Most of command didn't want to tell him what had happened to you, but I felt he needed to know."

"Thanks. And?" he pressed anxiously.

"I'm not completely certain what he's been up to these last few days, but it looks like he might have intel on this Project Ash Warrior. He called for a meet up when you were well enough to travel. We're not sure what he has yet, but it looks like he wants you to be the one to hear it," she finished.

"Right," Zeb said softly, much of the other noises of the base falling away as his thoughts turned inward. He didn't even want to consider what Alex must've been through these last few days – the worry, the fear, the uncertainty. All he really wanted to do was rush to the former Imperial's side as fast as he could, to let him know he was all right. And if Alex had important information for him, he might get a chance to do just that. "Well...if Fulcrum wants a meeting, that's what he's gonna get."

The reaction from everyone was loud and instantaneous when Zeb made an attempt to rise from the cot.

"Zeb, what are you thinking?" Sabine snapped at him.

"Hold on there, man," Ezra started, holding down one shoulder. Kanan was soon at his other shoulder, restraining him with equal force.

"Garazeb Orrelios," Hera began in her patented 'Mom' voice, "if you honestly think we're letting you leave this cot until you get a clean bill of health from the medics and a proper med droid, you must have severely injured yourself back there. You're not going anywhere."

"But Hera-"

"No. Alex will understand. We'll contact him to let him know you're all right, but you're staying right here until a medic says otherwise."

Zeb rolled his eyes again, this time in frustration. Then he scrubbed a hand across his face before growling out, "Karabast. Fine. But can I at least send my own messages? I want him to hear all this from me."

Hera surveyed him a long moment before answering, "I find your terms acceptable, Captain Orrelios."

Zeb's ears flattened in annoyance, but he was happy he'd gained at least that much of a victory. Besides, even if all he wanted to do was rush to his Tinsana's side, he did have to concede that it would be better to wait until he was properly recovered. It would only add unnecessary worry to Alex's growing list of troubles. He didn't want to do that to him. He couldn't.

So, accepting Arkalia back from Hera, he settled in to hear what else he'd missed in his lost four days. It was, after all, a much better option than allowing himself to think too deeply on the events that had landed him here in the first place.

XxX

A regular watch was maintained around Chopper Base. Those brave individuals who fought for freedom against the tyranny of the Empire wouldn't be worth much to anyone if they couldn't even manage to protect their own base. So watch was kept at all hours of the cycle, and it was kept well, but in defense of the stalwart members of Phoenix Cell, they were looking for something to come toward the base. Not for something to move away from it.

So the watch could hardly be expected to notice when a tiny figure crawled away from the rebel base in the middle of the night.

It would be difficult to say what was going through little Arkalia's mind as she crawled away from the safety of the base and out into the wastelands of Atollon, as her mind did not function in the same way as an adult being's did. Perhaps there was nothing in her mind? Or perhaps she was the only one who truly understood. It could not be said, one way or the other. So she crawled out into the darkness, unseen by the watch and ignored by the roving bands of krykna who moved through the planet's shifting stone and sand. She crawled, unafraid, guided on by something unknown...until a shape amongst Atollon's strange formations, nearly appearing to be just another mass of stone in and of itself, began to move. The massive figure shifted until a pair of distant, moonglow eyes were looking down on the baby Lasat. When the Bendu finally spoke, the surrounding stone rumbled with the force of its voice.

"So this is the child that has caused such a stir," it said as it looked her over, laughing quietly while tilting its head in curiosity. "Such a lot of trouble over such a little thing."

"A child always is," a gentle voice trickled from the shadows that surrounded the ancient Force-user – until out into the moonlight stepped Ahsoka Tano.

"Well, I suppose you would know, little mother," the giant being said, inclining its head down toward the infant strapped to the former Jedi's back.

"Yes," Ahsoka agreed, smiling tenderly down at the kit as she lifted her own little girl from her carrying sling. "I wasn't exactly expecting company, but I'm sure Mira will be glad of it," she said, lowering herself into a cross-legged position with the baby in her arms.

Though little Mira was distinctly Togruta in appearance, she still had a markedly different look than others of her mother's people. Her skin was much lighter than Ahsoka's, closer to that of her father, and where other Togruta younglings would have had patterning of some kind, the little nubs that would one day become her montrals consisted of smooth white skin. There was no other like her in all the galaxy – Ahsoka's precious daughter.

Mirjahaal Tano.

Rex's daughter.

Upon catching sight of Mira, the uncertainty that had lingered like a gathering storm cloud around little Arkalia's head dissipated instantly. Crawling forward with a curious coo, she came right up to them, reaching out with a single four-fingered paw to bat at Mira's tiny arm.

Mira was younger than Arkalia by several months, but the little half-Togruta was no less excited to meet someone closer to her own age. She smiled a wide, gummy smile at the little Lasat before letting out a happy squeal, reaching out with her own hand.

Ahsoka smiled warmly as she watched the two little girls play, speaking in their own language only they could understand. She couldn't say what it was that had called Arkalia to them. She was not Force sensitive so far as the former padawan could see. Perhaps it was just Ahsoka's presence here? A piece of space-time that didn't quite belong.

"It is of interest to me that you would risk coming here now, Ahsoka Tano," the Bendu said in its ever-contemplative tone. "After all, it would take little more than the wrong brush of a stone for the entirety of our reality to unravel around you."

"I know that," she returned with a small shrug. "And while I find that to be an over-dramatization of our actual state...some things are worth the risk."

"Love, perhaps?"

"Perhaps. I've already let too many I care about die. I can't let it happen again. Not when I have power to stop it," she responded fiercely, her hold on Mira briefly tightening.

"But do you have power?" the Bendu asked her. "You cannot, after all, affect events as they are. Not without risk of harm to this tenuous balance."

"I have more power than you can understand, even if it isn't much. I'll do what I can while I can still do it."

"Having experienced a death or two of your own, what death is it you now wish to prevent?"

Ahsoka shuddered at the press of the ancient being's intent. It knew already, she had little doubt, but wanted her to give voice to it for whatever reason.

"I have- seen things...in my meditations. While I understand that the galaxy does not turn on one small life...I feel he deserves better. He deserves to have his faith rewarded," she said, drawing Mira up to rub her cheek reassuringly against hers. At the loss of her new playmate, Arkalia looked sadly up at them, pawing at Ahsoka's knee while Mira tried to reach down to her.

"This is what you feel? Even though you know it was through the effort to avert such a loss that your own master was lost?"

"Even so. It's not the Jedi way...to choose attachment...but..."

"But...as you are so fond of pointing out, you are no Jedi," the ancient being said with a faintly sardonic smile.

"Exactly."

Jedi or no, she understood the risk she was taking. The girl she had been when she'd first known Rex would have charged in lightsabers blazing in order to save her friend; consequences to the fabric of reality be damned. The woman she was now understood that such a direct interference would ultimately harm the man she wanted to save more than it would help him. She was limited in what she could do from the outside of their paralleled timelines, but what power remained to her, she intended to use. She was not going to let Rex waste his life needlessly.

"At a time like this, they would say that you must learn to let go of what it is you fear to lose."

"And the Sith?" Ahsoka found herself asking, though she couldn't quite help giggling when Arkalia started to climb her body to get up to Mira. "What would they say?"

"The exact opposite, of course. It is not in a Sith's nature to let go of that which they perceive as belonging to them. The more they can possess, the stronger they believe themselves to be. What you will not let go, no one will take from you," it said, gazing pointedly down at her.

"What about you?" Ahsoka pressed, returning the intent stare without a shred of fear. "What do you say? What's the way in the middle?"

"I?" The Bendu raised an eyebrow, considering her for several long moments before continuing. "I say that to define love as a mere attachment...is to misunderstand what love is. What attachment is. If you believe that love is something that can be possessed or released upon a whim, then you do not know love."

The young mother nodded. The more she came to understand what was between her and Rex, the more she was inclined to accept that sort of definition. The Jedi Order had somehow come to conflate love and attachment as the same thing in its twilight years, when they really weren't the same thing at all. The code forbid attachment. It did not forbid love.

"Well," she started as she disentangled the two children from each other, carefully tucking Mira back in her sling before lifting Arkalia into her arms and climbing to her feet, "I hope that way is good enough for the Force, because that's the way I'm taking."

"Then much good may it do you, young not-Jedi," the Bendu said to her as she turned and walked out into the desert. "I shall look forward to our next meeting."

"As will I," she called over her shoulder without looking back. From then on, her attention was only for the two babies still attempting to play with each other around her shoulders. She couldn't begin to guess how Arkalia had crawled so far from Chopper Base on her own, but it wouldn't have surprised her if the Bendu had something to do with it. It was possible that the baby Lasat was meant as a distraction, something to shift her from her course. But then the opposite could prove true, as well.

"Well, let's just hope your new family are all heavy sleepers tonight. We'd better get you back before they notice you're gone," Ahsoka said to the kit, tickling her under the chin and drawing out a pleased trill. Mira just giggled at her back. She was content to let the two girls laugh and play throughout her trek to the base, but she made certain to hush them both upon approach to the sentry lines.

It was easy enough to slip in among them, though a little bit more difficult to make certain she didn't appear in Ezra or Kanan's sphere of awareness, especially since it appeared that Rex was sleeping aboard the Ghost tonight.

The easiest part of all this was following the sense of him in her mind. Ever since she'd connected with him following Mandalore, she'd been able to sense him, no matter how distant from each other they'd been. It had been a comfort to her in the years they'd been apart, even though she couldn't communicate with him or know where he was, she could at least reach out and know he was still alive. At times, that had been the only thing keeping her alive.

That bond had only grown stronger with time, and as much of a comfort as it was to her, it was also pain. She had been able to sense his grief for her and Mira across the vastness that separated them. That near constant ache had been with her during her months of carrying their daughter and during her convalescence on Ahch-to after Mira's birth. Much though it was killing her not to be able to reach out to Rex, not to ease his suffering and let him know they were both alive, she also knew the greater harm she could cause them all if she gave in to that longing. If her friends learned she was alive, she would have to explain why that was and that could bring harm to future events. Back when Ezra had pulled her from her place in time, she had been prepared to die. Barely along in her pregnancy, she hadn't yet known her daughter. Not really. It would have been a tragedy, but one she was prepared for. Now, though? Now it was not a risk she was willing to take. So she'd endured her love's quiet agony in silence of her own, up until a week ago.

Her captain's pain, rage, and grief had screamed to her across distances. In his moment of abject anguish, she had been able to see his thoughts clearly – witnessed his heart breaking upon learning Darth Vader's true identity.

And she had felt it like a brand on her heart when he had sworn to get revenge for her death.

She couldn't tell him not to directly, couldn't tell him there was no need for it. Even this fresh torment she'd been prepared to endure with him, but then she'd begun to see scraps of an uncertain future, in her dreams and in her meditations.

Vader, his back to a battered and bloody Rex as he surveys some sort of dogfight happening above a crashed Star Destroyer. Though the clone's hands shake, he keeps a blaster aimed at the back of the Sith lord's helmeted head, and though there are tears streaming down his face, his voice is resolved.

"It doesn't matter what you were before. It doesn't even matter what you are now. The only thing that matters is that you're here and she's not. I will not let that stand!"

"The apprentice was weak," Vader says in that uncanny, mechanized voice, not even turning back to look at his former comrade. "She could have survived had she only had the will to do so."

Rex screams in rage as he lets fly a hail of blaster fire, which Vader easily deflects with the lightsaber that's suddenly in his hand. When the rain of fire finally comes to an end, Rex is standing there, shaking and breathing hard, while Vader looks no worse for wear.

" AHSOKA! " Rex cries out in anguished fury before letting loose a fresh storm of fire. "HER NAME WAS AHSOKA! "

Vader doesn't bother to redirect the plasma bolts this time. He simply stops them with the Force, stepping clear of them before turning that power on the clone, lifting him clean off his feet and cutting off his air.

"This is pointless. If you are too weak to survive without her, CT-7567, then-" With a single twist of his hand he brings Rex flying forward, impaling him on the ignited blade of his lightsaber.

"-you may join her."

She couldn't intervene. She knew that. But she couldn't just let it happen, either. If nothing else, she could give Rex the comfort of her presence, even if it was only briefly.

Moving silently through the Ghost, she gave a gentle sleep command to all its inhabitants, taking every precaution to make sure none of them knew about her visit. She also gave the subtlest of suggestions to the two little girls she carried – the impression of quiet.

Rex was sleeping in what sometimes served as Kanan's room, as Ahsoka knew that Kanan and Hera mostly shared a bed these days. Setting Arkalia down on the cabin floor, she took a moment to lift Mira from her carrier, cradling her close as she sat down with her at Rex's side.

Normally, she knew, he would not sleep so soundly. He was a trained soldier, and he would wake at the smallest noise. Often, their lives would've depended on such a response time. But now, he slept on, soothed into a proper rest by her gentle promptings. Much as she would have loved to let him wake and see her, see his daughter, she couldn't let him know she was here. This had to be quick.

"Hey, Rexter," she said softly as she stroked the side of his face, speaking the words aloud, but also giving them directly to his mind through the Force. "It's been a while. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but...I don't know of any other way to protect you...all of you."

The clone shifted slightly in his sleep, but he didn't wake. The motion itself said he was settling, but Ahsoka could see the way his hands twitched briefly. Something inside of him was already fighting her suggestions. Maybe...even fast asleep...maybe some part of him knew she was here?

"This is our daughter," she said as she held the baby girl up, letting her properly see her father. "Her name is Mirjahaal. You can't imagine how badly I wish you could meet. I know you loved her from the very beginning...that you love her even now. I know you'll be- a wonderful father...and someday you'll have the chance to be. Though you might not have to wait even that long. I know you're doing wonderfully with Arkalia and...perhaps this new Mandalorian of yours could use a friendly shoulder...since she's just lost a man who was like her father."

"Hu-uh...'soka," he called out faintly from the depths of his dreams. "Ahsoka..."

She couldn't keep this up for much longer. There was no way she could continue to have all that much effect on someone as strong-willed as Rex.

"Rex...please. Please...be comforted in knowing that for us, for me and for our precious child, all is well. The only pain we suffer is that we miss you. We miss you so much. But we are with you...always. We're here together. Our family is never further apart than it is right now. Even if we were truly gone, our love will never leave you. You don't need to seek vengeance for us. Anakin may be gone, but killing Vader wouldn't change any of this. You aren't strong enough to face him, so I'm asking you...I'm begging you...don't go up against him. Don't throw your life away. I'll come back to you. I promise I will, but you have to stay alive for me. You can't quit now. Rex...my Rex...I love you," she whispered to him as she leaned down close to him, pressing her forehead against his.

"Ner Ahsoka..." he called out helplessly, really beginning to fight now.

When she pulled back from him, she was saddened to see the tracks of tears streaming down his face. The sight so clawed at her heart that her control slipped...just for a moment...and his eyes flickered open.

For a moment, he looked up at her, smiling, but it was a smile so full of pain it nearly broke her heart.

"Please..." he said softly, his voice tight with tears, clearly thinking he was still dreaming, "oh, please...don't leave me. Don't leave me again. I can't- take it."

Not trusting herself to speak without crying, Ahsoka simply continued to smile for him, despite the crushing sorrow that was behind the smile.

"I love you...I love you...I need you."

"I'm here. I'm right here," she whispered in a shaky voice, pressing a hand to his heart. Then she leaned down one last time and pressed a long and lingering kiss to his lips – a kiss that would have to last them both until they could be together again...

Rex gasped sharply as he snapped awake, sitting bolt upright in bed.

"Ahsoka?" he called out without thinking. For an instant, just an instant, he could have sworn he'd seen her smile...felt her kiss...

Shaking his head, he buried his face in his hands. Ahsoka wasn't here. She was gone. She'd been murdered...by her own master.

"You're crackin' up, old man," he scolded himself. When he received a small coo in response to his words, he looked down in surprise to see Arkalia on the floor beside the bed.

"What are you doin' in here, little girl?" he asked as he leaned over, easily lifting her into his arms. The kit purred happily when he began to stroke the fur behind her ears. Glancing toward the closed door in confusion, he looked down at her. "How did you get in here?"

Within moments, his door was sliding open to reveal Kanan standing there in nothing but his sleep pants. From what the clone could see of his expression, he looked concerned.

"Rex? Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Kanan exhaled loudly, head shifting in several different directions before focusing back on him. "Honestly? I don't know. Something felt...off."

Rex shrugged as he climbed out of bed, easily rocking Arkalia. "Well, far be it from me to question a Jedi on how something feels, but I'm fine. Just- dreaming," he said, voice becoming stilted and tense at the last. "Woke to find that a certain baby girl couldn't sleep," he said, shifting her in his arms so he could tickle her tummy, which earned him an excited squeal and several uncoordinated kicks with those strong little legs of hers. "Though...I do have to wonder how she got out of Sabine's room and into this one. That might be a bit off."

"Heh, might have to start properly locking the doors at night, if she's a capable enough escape artist to get out of her crib. But you're sure nothing's wrong? I could've sworn..."

"Nothing I know about. I'll let you know if something comes up. For now, though, I think I'm gonna hold onto little miss Kali. I could use a roommate."

Kanan laughed quietly before stepping back out of the room. "All right. We'll let Sabine know in the morning. Sleep tight, you two."

"Night," Rex called back before the door slid shut. He made sure to lock it before heading back to bed with Arkalia tucked in his arms. While he cradled her close, he hummed an old song for her – a marching chant from his GAR days.

He had never been one for sleeping all that much, and when he did sleep, it was never deeply, but tonight was different. He couldn't say if it was the kit's presence or something else entirely, but he felt lighter tonight than he had in a long time – happier, even. When he drifted easily off to sleep with her, he didn't awaken for several hours.

XxX

Zeb wasn't all that surprised when Kallus designated Nar Shaddaa as their rendezvous point. While it was an obvious choice as far as "illegal" activity went, by that same logic, it would be fairly easy for them to disappear amongst the moon's teeming hotbed of underworld activity. It would be easy to lose any potential tails either of them might pick up. Yet another reason they'd agreed to behave as if this were a random hookup. Any additional layer of security would be useful...and certainly not un-enjoyed by them if it came down to it.

The designated club was a little hole-in-the-wall joint known as Moon Dust, and it had a particular reputation among those whose tastes ran outside their own species. Zeb had frequented it more than once since Lasan, and while he wasn't certain if Kallus had, you wouldn't know it might have been his first time to see him sitting at the bar when Zeb walked in. There was something almost amusing in watching him casually flirt with the bartender. The Alexsandr Kallus he knew was much too straitlaced to legitimately flirt on his own behalf but, if he was working, it seemed there was no part he couldn't play. He'd just finished complimenting the Cathar male's fur when Zeb sidled up to the bar.

"Two Dathomiri sunrises," Zeb ordered when the Cathar turned his attention his way, letting Kallus know he was there and that he hadn't been followed.

The former Imperial smirked sideways at him as he looked him up and down.

"Pretty strong drink, that. Mean to drink both of those yourself, do you?"

"That's the notion. There's not many what could keep up with me," he returned with a grin that was just as flirty, just as inviting.

"Bet I could," he said in a voice that was almost a growl, pretending to a bit more inebriation than he was actually under.

"That a fact, human?" he challenged, grin widening a little more as he took in more than a casual eyeful of his lover, decked out in civilian clothing with his golden hair less than regulation. He really was beautiful, and Zeb would've undoubtedly preferred it if this really were just a night out, but at that, he also couldn't help but notice the telling shadow of the dark circles beneath Alex's eyes. He was far from all right and that, in turn, sparked Zeb's worry, but anybody who didn't know the human wouldn't know that. All they would see was a handsome human specimen with nice manners and perhaps a few too many drinks in him.

"Naxa?" Alex called to the Cathar when he returned with Zeb's order. "Another one of those sunrises if you please. The game is on."

And that was Zeb's cue. Alex was being watched. If he'd managed to shake any tails he'd had, he would've taken the second drink from Zeb. Now, it seemed, they were due for another of their infamous performances. Only Zeb imagined he just might enjoy this one a bit more than many of the previous ones.

The Dathomiri sunrise was composed of no less than four different liquors, one of which was not advised for humans to overconsume, but that Zeb found created a buzz that was similar enough to the wine of his homeworld when generously partaken of. The drink was so dark a red as to almost be black, and Zeb quickly downed half his first one while they waited on Alex's. He took only one sip of the drink when it arrived. What followed was a game of surreptitiously swapping glasses to make it appear that Alex was drinking more than he actually was, allowing him to act progressively more drunk as the night wore on while still keeping his whits sharp. Zeb was left with a manageable but pleasant buzz, drawing the former Imperial closer by inches as they talked and flirted.

By the time the three drinks had been downed, Alex was half-sitting in Zeb's lap. Leaning heavily against him, the agent began to paw ineffectually at his belt. Groaning in frustration, he gave a clumsy grind of his hips.

"Honestly, who are you trying to keep out here," he joked, mouthing awkwardly at Zeb's chin.

Zeb laughed as he reached to grip Alex's wrists in firm hands. "You got a room yet or should I get one? This is gonna get interesting if we keep this up out here."

Alex nodded. "While I have no problem...putting on a show...left pocket, room 210," he mumbled before finally managing to capture Zeb's lips in a sloppy kiss.

"Right," Zeb breathed against his lips when they finally separated. Not allowing the human to pull away from him, he slid his hands beneath his backside and stood, holding him firmly against his body. Alex honest-to-Ashla giggled at the sudden upward motion, wrapping his legs around Zeb's waist. The Lasat instantly felt himself go half-hard with the sound and the movement.

Karabast, if only this wasn't an act.

The bartender, Naxa, eyed them with a smile that was half-warning. "You be careful of him." the Cathar said to Zeb. "He'll be feeling that sunrise in the morning."

"Yeah. No worries," the former guardsman reassured him, unable to resist indulging in a show of strength by actually walking from the bar with Alex wrapped around him. He could feel the way the human trembled against him as he moaned, able to tell by the scent of him that the response, at least, was not faked in any way.

As Zeb moved through the back corridors that led to the club's private rooms, Alex made a very deliberate move by grabbing ahold of one of the corners that led off down a supply corridor, stopping their forward motion.

"See," he whispered breathily in Zeb's ear as he ground his hips against him a little more insistently. "She has to see us."

"Can do," he growled back, moving a little further down the side corridor and pressing Alex harshly up against the wall, claiming his mouth with his own as he ran his hands up and down his sides, just taking in the feel of him.

Alex gave a needy groan as they moved together against the wall, pressing frenzied kisses and stealing desperate caresses. Despite the act they were putting on, Zeb could feel in the way his lover clung to him how fiercely he had missed him.

"Ha...ah...touch me," the agent panted against him, both a command and a plea. Zeb was only too happy to comply, running his fingers over every inch of skin he could get at.

And there, just at the edge of his awareness, his more-than-human senses picked up on the presence of another person – a subtle scent, the whisper of movement beyond their little corridor.

"Oh, stars...oh, stars," Alex gave a very showy gasp, fingers tangling in Zeb's fur.

"You're talkin' a lot. Lemme show you what you can do with that mouth," Zeb growled at him, and once again, just at the edges of his perceptions, he heard a small noise of disgust. Then the Imperial spy was gone and he and Alex were alone.

"Come on," Alex whispered to him once they'd given their nemesis ample time to depart. Then he was pulling him back down the corridor and toward room 210.

Zeb was used to it. It didn't sting as much as it once had – the unchecked sneers, the huffs of disgust, the offhand dismissals – but it also occurred to him that Alex might not be used to it, that he might well be the first non-human lover the former Imperial had ever had. But if that was what was bothering him at all, it didn't show in the way he yanked the Lasat into the room. Then Alex was leaning against the closed door, pulling him in close, and Zeb was half certain if he and the door weren't holding him up, the agent would've collapsed already.

All in an instant, the act disintegrated, leaving Zeb with a man clinging to him so desperately, it felt like he might never let go. His breathing was so ragged, the Lasat thought for a moment he might actually be crying, but that turned out not to be the case.

"Hey...it's okay," he made an awkward attempt at soothing the human. "It's okay."

"You're all right?" Alex whispered against his neck. "Really?"

"Yeah. All patched up. He was never gonna kill me. He's the sort who'd have to make a show of it," he said, trying to lift the agent's face with a few gentle fingers beneath his chin, trying to look him in the eye. But even then, Alex kept his eyes cast down.

"When he approached me in the market that day...when he even implicated what he was capable of doing to a Lasat...I should've killed him."

"Alex-"

Zeb stopped short when he felt the agent tense against him. After several calming breaths, Alex whispered against his lips, "Say it again."

"Huh?"

"My name...please...say my name. Just say my name," he begged, fingers running desperately through the Lasat's fur.

"Alex," Zeb whispered in gentle compliance, pressing a kiss to his lover's forehead. "Alex," he said again with a worshipful press of lips to his temple, raising his fingers to run them through his hair. "Alex," he offered up like a prayer before laying his next kiss to a pulse point in the former Imperial's neck, drawing a long, relieved sigh from him. He could physically feel the human relaxing into his embrace.

"Stars, but I was worried about you," he said softly, nipping affectionately at Zeb's ear. "I'd half-begun to wonder if I'd ever hear anyone call me Alex ever again."

"Can't shake me that easy. Bordok-headed Lasat, remember?" Zeb pointed out, nuzzling his face contentedly against the human's neck, working his scent into the skin there.

"Speaking of Lasat, how's our little princess doing?" Alex asked him, seeming to regain a good bit of his composure just from speaking of the little kit.

"Queen of the rebellion, that one," Zeb answered with a small laugh. "Everybody loves her, and how could they not? But you'll see for yourself when we head back to the Phantom."

"She- she's here now? On this moon?" Alex asked him, expression caught somewhere between joy and worry. "You brought her with you?"

"Course I did. Knew you'd wanna see her. Don't worry. She's with Chopper right now. He'll take good care of her."

Alex shook his head, offering up a small smile as he looked up at him. "While I don't doubt you, I half-wish we could go straight away. But we do need to give our dear Lighieri time to head back to Coruscant."

"Right," Zeb said with a small grimace, shaking himself off at the scant thought of the Imperial tail. "Why was she followin' you anyway? Are they...gettin' suspicious?"

"No more than is typical of the ISB. It is common practice for the Bureau to keep tabs on its agents. As I was permitted to take my Leave time early for this particular round, I was a prime candidate."

"And it's not gonna cause you trouble down the line? Them knowin' you meet up in places like this for anonymous hookups with non-humans?"

"Certainly not. If anything, it can only help us. If they believe my only misdemeanor is an unfortunate predilection for alien flesh, they will not look too deeply for any others. It will give me space to do my work more freely. We'll just give her long enough to assume we've done what we need to do with each other before we head back out."

"Heh, okay," Zeb agreed, and though a fairly sizable portion of him wished they could actually go about doing such things, there were still other things that needed to be done. "So what's this about? Hera said you'd- found Ash Warrior?" he prompted.

Alex looked away from him at this. It wasn't visible on the surface in any way, but Zeb could almost swear he saw a shudder pass through the man's frame. Before he looked back up at him, his first move was to take one of Zeb's hands in his. Then he raised it to his face, carefully regarding every inch of it before pressing a kiss to each of Zeb's rounded finger pads.

"I have," he started in an unsettlingly quiet voice. "And it's no bedtime story. But...before I explain it to you, there- there are some things I want to tell you...things about myself. I want- to be able to explain," he said, already struggling to get the words out.

And Zeb understood. He understood perfectly what this was. It was Alex attempting to do what he hadn't been able to before – tell him about his past...about what had led him to Lasan. Maybe finally put some of the demons that lurked behind his eyes to rest at last.

"Hey, calm down," Zeb said in response to his already apparent fear. Shifting the hand the human held so that he could cup the slighter male's cheek in a firm, but comforting hold, he ran a thumb along that cheek. "It's gonna be all right. I'm gonna go ahead and tell you right now. Nothin' you say is gonna turn me from you. Whatever you have to say, I can take it."

Alex stilled for a moment, eyes rimmed faintly with red before he slid them closed, leaning heavily into Zeb's touch, holding the Lasat's much larger hand greedily against his face.

"We'll see," he whispered. "I love you. I love you so much."

Chapter Text

Alex ordered a bottle of Corellian brandy to be brought to their room before launching into his story, which Zeb didn't seem to begrudge him in the slightest. With his worry over the Lasat these last few weeks, he'd half been able to forget about his fears over what he still had to tell him. But now, with it staring him so suddenly in the face, he was afraid his courage might fail him again. So, once a droid had brought the bottle and two glasses up and they were settled on the bed, each with a glass, Alex took a few swallows of the liquor and began.

"Well...I suppose the best place to start would be with my parents."

"Heh, goin' back a bit far, are we," Zeb said, lifting a teasing eyebrow.

Alex returned the look with a side eyebrow of his own. "Oh, it's relevant, I promise you. I just...it's not as if I've ever shared any of this with anyone."

"Right. Go on."

Alex sighed, staring into his drink for a long moment before continuing. "This was the worst kept secret at Royal Imperial, but...my mother was an escort."

"Huh?" Zeb interrupted, and when he looked up at the much larger man, it was to see his round eyes narrowed in confusion.

"An escort? You've never heard the term?"

"No."

"A prostitute?"

"Oh. Okay," he said, nodding slowly, except there was still confusion in his gaze. "Is that a bad thing?"

Alex faltered for a moment at that one, not really having expected such a reaction. "Well...there's no way to make it sound like an achievement. Prostitution is typically viewed as- less than savory. It wasn't like that on Lasan?"

Zeb shrugged. "It's a job, like any other."

Alex gave a small chuckle before taking another sip of brandy. "More free-thinking than Coruscant, I suppose. But then, what world isn't more free-thinking than Coruscant? The point being, however, that my mother was not a highly viewed member of society. Although as an escort, she had more choice over her clientele. Hers was an organization that did a great deal of business within the Galactic Senate. That was how she and my father came to...transact...as it were. I don't- know the particulars of my own conception...but I do know that my mother elected to keep me...when it would've been just as easy for someone in her position to shuffle an unexpected child off to an orphanage," he said before draining his glass and reaching for the bottle. He would be lying if he said it wasn't a little harder to think of his mother now – now that he understood what she'd been through...what she'd sacrificed...

"'S' not such a bad start," Zeb prompted him when he didn't immediately continue. "So what happened?"

"I could not- understand this until many years later; I was only four at the time, but my mother wanted a better life for me. Better than simply taking up her trade, or winding up in Coruscant's lower levels. So she made a deal with my father, the senator of Salear, Orin Syfarre. He'd had no interest in me up until then, but my mother somehow managed to strike a bargain. Syfarre would provide for my future, would see that I had a proper education and decent connections. All she had to do in return was give me up."

Alex felt Zeb stiffen beside him, a low growl sounding in his throat. Knowing how important family was to the Lasat, he had figured he wouldn't much like this part of the story, but he had to get through it, just the same. So he kept on, nursing his drink all the while.

"No contact. I would be surrendered as a ward of the state and enter the academy system when I was of age. At the time, of course, it was still the Republic, but a ward of state is a ward of state."

Zeb grunted before draining half a glass in one go. "Typically wouldn't think much of a parent who dumped their kid, but- I guess I can see where she was comin' from. Wanted to give you your best chance. So...you haven't seen her since you were four?"

"Oh, no. I've seen her," he reassured his lover, smiling faintly as he took a somewhat longer sip. Distantly, he wondered if he could sway Zeb into letting him actually down one of those Dathomiri sunrises. "She was a smart woman, my mother. Not one jot of my own intelligence comes from Syfarre. That was all her. She would find ways to communicate with me without detection. Little things...small messages and gifts...our own secret code. I never saw her, as such...but I knew she was there. She made damn sure her son knew he was loved, even if we couldn't be together."

"Heh, I'm startin' to like this woman," Zeb said with a warm chuckle.

Alex sighed as he leaned against the Lasat. "Indeed, you would have. Certainly if your predilection for my own sense of humor is any indication. But...as much as she tried to be there for me within the confines of her bargain...Syfarre was also a defining force in those early years. It was never easy, growing up among the children of the elite as the son of an escort, and that man went out of his way to make certain I knew what I was...that I understood my place in the proper order of things. If Syfarre'd had his own way, I'm quite sure he would've seen to it I rose no higher than the rank of midshipman before falling quietly into obscurity. Unfortunately for him, I was the son of Amara Kallus. It was under my own merits that I gained notice, during the days of the Republic academy system and again when Royal Imperial Academy was founded under the auspices of Palpatine's declarations."

Zeb growled again at the mention of the Emperor, draining his glass, refilling it, and actually draining the second glass all in one go. Alex shook his head as he briefly pulled away from the former guardsman, looking to him with a pleading expression. "I know how it came out. Of course I do, but you need to understand...what the galaxy looked like to me in those days. I wasn't all that much older than Ezra at the onset of the Clone Wars. I was just beginning to understand how hopelessly corrupt the supposed "right" side of the war was. I was realizing how badly the man who had fathered me had abused his power in his dealings with my mother...in keeping her silent. I didn't learn until later- just how badly he treated her. The whole system was diseased and vile and depraved. I was honestly ecstatic when Palpatine declared it would be dismantled. I didn't care then what it might be replaced with. I just wanted to see the system that had allowed a man like Syfarre to operate at all burn to ashes," he snarled quietly, gripping his glass in impossibly tight fists. Really, it was a wonder the glass didn't shatter.

There were so many ugly memories of the senator of Salear, so many moments he'd wished for nothing more than to be able to put a blaster bolt through his head and hadn't been able to. He'd been such an angry young man – angry with no way of releasing that anger, blind to what the hatred between himself and his father was turning him into. Alex didn't realize just how fiercely he was shaking with rage until he felt Zeb's arms around him once again, holding him securely against his chest.

The Lasat didn't say anything at first. He just held him close, making a gentle purring noise while he ran a hand up and down his back. The comforting sound reverberated throughout the agent's body, soothing him in ways he hadn't known it was possible for him to be soothed. Just as Zeb spoke, he gave a relieved sigh, half-collapsing into his strong hold.

"It's okay. You're okay. It's over now," he whispered to him, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple as he cradled him in his arms, and for that brief moment, Alex allowed himself to cling to his lover, taking the comfort he offered. "Would'a liked to kill that bastard for you myself if I could have."

Alex gave a small, pained laugh at that one. "You, myself, and countless others. But my mother beat us to it. I'm quite certain she had a hand in his demise."

Zeb offered up a laugh of his own at this. "Hah! Now I really like her."

Alex smiled faintly, shaking his head as he leaned ever more intently into Zeb. "I see now- that Syfarre never would've received his just reward under the system the Empire became. He could've operated quite comfortably within its bounds, but I didn't see that when I was younger...or perhaps I didn't wish to see it. I had struggled for so long in his shadow that- maybe I simply had no choice but to believe in the cause I'd given myself to. Either way, my mother took the justice that was owed her, and I became a rising star of the nascent ISB. It was a high point of my early work with the bureau – routing out corrupt and disloyal individuals. It was, in fact, what took me to Onderon all those years ago...pursuit of a corrupt business magnate who had ties to Gerrera's partisans," he explained, swallowing heavily before finishing with, "I believe you know the rest."

Zeb nodded, tracing a hand through his hair as he sighed. "Wish I knew who that merc was. I'd like to know who it is what thinks they can so casually dishonor a bo-rifle."

"I admit I became quite fixated myself. Because they...my first unit...we were not unlike you and the other Spectres," he admitted, feeling a painful lump forming in his throat with the confession. He shuddered as each long-dead face drifted through his mind in a macabre slideshow.

Alain Trance. Gad Tenar. Klaidissa Anasch. Reeve Orha. Alita Kuron.

His unit. His squad. His guys. His...

"I'm sorry," he heard Zeb's voice through the sudden silent roaring in his ears. "I never told you that...before...on Bahryn. I get that. I'm sorry for what you lost."

"I was their leader," he hissed, acknowledging Zeb's words simply by nuzzling his face into the fur on his neck, but now that he'd started, he couldn't seem to stop. "I was responsible for them. They were my unit...and I failed them. Klaidi wasn't even a year into her first deployment! A kriffing year!" he cried out, voice going high before it suddenly became stopped in his throat. He bit down hard on his lip, to the point of drawing blood. If he kept going down this course, he knew he might never stop. So, cleaving tightly to the Lasat for several moments, he just held fast to the reality of him, the steady presence that held him up and supported him as no other living being ever had. Zeb didn't speak. There was nothing to say. He had been a leader. He knew what it was to lose men in battle. So he just soothed, purred, held Alex until he was ready to continue.

"I...I wanted that monster to answer for their deaths. I hunted for him, but I was never able to find him. What I wound up with instead was an extensive knowledge of the Lasat. It was a unique knowledge base within the Imperial military, a distinct edge. It was...why I was assigned to the colonel who led the ground forces on Lasan," he admitted, looking up at Zeb with regret and apology and self-hatred in his eyes. For a moment, he tried to pull away from Zeb.

He had no right at all to even dare to ask for comfort from his love during this part of the telling.

But Zeb, the beautiful, stubborn fool that he was, refused to relinquish his hold. He kept Alex pressed firmly against his chest. Whether or not he deserved this kind of understanding, perhaps something in both of them knew that if he had to face this confession alone, something inside of him would simply shake apart. So, setting aside the long empty glasses on the bedside table, Zeb crooned easily to him as he laid them both down on the bed.

"La san torril."

I'm here.

"It wasn't long after Onderon," he began again, as he'd tried to back on Alluvium. "Half a standard year, at best. Several Wookiees had escaped the action on Kashyyyk, fleeing to Lasan. I didn't know anything about the subjugation at the time. I was told only that these Wookiees had been attempting to rebel against the order the Empire was attempting to create. We were told to extract them by any means necessary, to serve as an example." This was ridiculous. He didn't need to tell the Captain of the kriffing High Honor Guard why Lasan had been attacked. He'd been there. He knew. Perhaps it was just for his own stupid sake. To be able to get the whole story out...

Zeb didn't point this out, though. He simply helped him continue with, "But Lasan wasn't about to turn over sworn allies just because the Empire said so. The Wookiees were our brothers. Even if it meant our own destruction, we were gonna fight for the ones who remained free."

"I didn't understand that sort of devotion in those days," he said softly, running several fingers through Zeb's fur. "Every time I'd seen an inkling of it, it was either destroyed or twisted. I was so sure that with the proper application of power, Lasan would see reason...would fall in line with what the Empire was trying to accomplish. But I see now...what a fool I was...and what the Empire was truly trying to accomplish," he whispered, his grip on Zeb tightening briefly.

"There's nothin' wrong- with wantin' to believe you're fightin' for a good cause," Zeb said. "What else could you let yourself think?"

"Something...anything," he returned in the same eerie, soft voice. "Maybe even stopping to ask one question might have resulted in a different outcome?"

"Hey, no," Zeb reminded him forcefully, drawing his face back to his to look him directly in the eye. "We've had this conversation. You weren't the only one there that day."

Alex laughed humorlessly, drawing a hand up to his face before continuing. "You're right, of course, but it certainly doesn't help that it was largely my task to help break your front lines. I commanded a company of stormtroopers that day and we'd been making little headway. That was the reason- the ion disruptors were even considered. Weapons Development had granted Colonel Masaada a small shipment of them. I didn't know at the time that they hadn't been properly field tested, and a hot battlefield is no place to be testing experimental technology, but that- that's no excuse," he scolded himself, fingers fumbling clumsily past Zeb, thinking maybe to reach for the brandy again.

But Zeb caught that hand before he could reach much further, drawing it back between them as he shook his head. "You've had enough of that, mate. Don't go there. Just talk to me."

"About what? The innocent people I murdered?" he snarled into the Lasat's hold, struggling to master his breathing. This wasn't even guilt over Zeb's people. It was guilt over murder – murder of civilians, guilt he'd carried with him a long time before he'd even known Zeb. It was a guilt he'd only been able to keep at bay because he'd kept trying to tell himself he was fighting for a better galaxy.

With how closely entwined they were, he could feel the tremor that passed through the former guardsman's body. Was this it? The moment Zeb decided he couldn't take anymore? That some things were just unforgivable?

What he received instead was a single simple plea.

"Tell me."

"W-what?" he asked in shock, blinking up at the Lasat.

"You've never told this to anyone...not really. You've been carryin' it around with you all this time. I can see it...and I know you're a believer. It's not your fault that belief was turned in the wrong direction. Your not knowin' also wasn't really your fault. This is eatin' you alive...so let it out. Let it go. If you don't get it out, it's gonna kill you. Trust me. I know. So tell me," Zeb urged him, a look that was some mix of heartbreak, understanding, and worry swirling in his luminous eyes.

For a long moment, all he could manage to do was stare at the Lasat, looking at him with more love and sympathy than he could earn in twenty lifetimes.

"How can you?" he finally hissed, eyes falling to Zeb's chest. "How can you know what I've done, look right at me, and tell me it'll be all right? How could you ever-"

Zeb silenced him with a chaste kiss to his forehead, the absolution in the gesture completely unmaking every last word in his throat.

"I've been there, Alex. I know what it's like to carry all those ugly feelings around, and if I've learned anything from my family these last couple years, it's that nothing is past hope. Nothing's beyond savin'. So you say what you gotta say, and you'll start findin' out just how true that is," he said softly as he pulled Alex in closer, arms wrapped around him as he ran a hand up and down his back.

Feeling the clenching of his heart that told him just how close to tears he was, Alex took a minute to just breathe. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stop them if the tears did come, but maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. So, cradled in Zeb's arms and with his head resting easily against his chest, he finally continued.

"We were told not to use those disruptors unless we had no other choice. I hadn't truly intended to, even though they were given to my company. We were such a small force. There was no way we should've been able to take Lasan. I- thinking about it now...I have to wonder if, maybe, that was the point – that Lasan should be their field test. Perhaps the Empire sent such a small force to enforce its will because we were meant to have no other choice...no other choice but to use those weapons," he said, feeling his throat tighten as his fingers dug a little more harshly into Zeb's fur. The Lasat didn't speak up at all, so Alex was left to confess to his greatest sin.

"I blew away a street- that day," he said in a stilted voice. "I and a small squad had been cut off from the main force. My men were either dead or injured. I'd been searching for a way back when I fell into combat with a guardsman. I'd lost my own blaster and I had nothing but the disruptor. So I used what I had. I'd meant to only kill my opponent, but...the disruptor's destructive output was so great, it- it destroyed an entire city street," he confessed, feeling the hot tears begin to spill down his face. "I don't- know how many I killed in that moment...so many people...so much confusion...and they were all just gone...nothing more than ash. I remember- s-seeing a child c-caught in the blast...a little girl. I s-saw the fear in her eyes. I saw her burn. She was someone's- p-precious Lia...and I killed her. That child...I can still hear her screaming."

He was sobbing openly now, the tears pouring freely down his face, soaking Zeb's chest as he cried. He didn't think he'd ever cried so hard in his life, not even when Ash Warrior had been revealed to him. It seemed he was weeping now for all the times in his life he hadn't dared to. And throughout it all, Zeb said nothing. He just held him tightly, letting him cry, letting him purge himself of everything, all while stroking his back and dropping little kisses on the top of his head.

Alex wasn't certain how long he lay silent after he'd cried all his tears, but it was a strangely comforting silence. One in which he and Zeb just lay together, learning this new, quiet intimacy that connected them. When the former Imperial finally spoke again, it was in a much easier tone.

"I didn't use the disruptor after that first time. I couldn't. Perhaps...if I'd rescinded permission for my troops to use them...it might've-"

"Don't do that to yourself," Zeb scolded him in a heavy voice. "Don't go down that road. It didn't take much more than one volley anyway. It was nearly over...with just one sweep of those things," he recounted with a pained shudder.

"I know you are right, but the 'what-ifs' will never not be at the back of my mind," he returned softly, nuzzling his face into the Lasat's neck.

"And that's how it should be. But...maybe it won't tear at you quite as bad as it did?" he suggested in a hopeful voice.

"Perhaps not. Someone did see something in me that day that he deemed worthwhile, after all," Alex recounted with a distant smile. Even though that particular encounter had ended with his opponent's death, it had still been a worthy end, unlike everything else that had occurred that day. "Even if it was mostly over by that point...he still fought well...allowed me to fight well, too...before everything just stopped."

"The bombs," Zeb said, his own voice weighed down by memory.

"Yes. Nearly took out a chunk of our own forces for our trouble, it was so poorly coordinated. Even the colonel was blinded in that last explosion."

"What? That one wasn't your bad tactics?" Zeb tried to joke.

"No. That was handled by another of Masaada's regiments. And...of course...this brings us back to how this all ties in to Project Ash Warrior," he said as he slowly sat up, pulling himself out of Zeb's hold. Zeb wasn't far behind, sitting up beside him. "I knew then- that we had the task of collecting a ten percent genetic sampling of the population. At the time, I assumed it was only for research purposes...the sort of data the scientists all loved to pour over...and I assumed it was only blood work."

"But it wasn't, was it," Zeb said just as slowly.

Alex shook his head, gaze falling to his hands, lying useless in his lap. "Children. Children were taken from Lasan that day. Some adults, but mostly children. You know, of course, that the Empire uses Wookiees as slave labor."

"Yeah," Zeb said with an irate grumble.

"Mostly it's because of their physical prowess, but it's also because Wookiees lack the necessary vocal processes to speak Basic. A lack of understanding can always be blamed for any situation that might arise. Wookiees can be easily silenced because most people cannot or will not understand them. That isn't the case with the Lasat. They would not have been so easily silenced. They needed to be either brought to hand or..."

"Destroyed," Zeb finished when he couldn't bring himself to. "And no Lasat would bow to the Emperor, so they destroyed us."

"That's just it. They didn't. Not everyone," Alex found himself struggling to explain.

Zeb glanced at him out of the corner of his eye for a long moment before asking, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Imperial scientists had studied the Lasat. It appears- the Emperor did not want to lose the potential of the Lasat people to serve as...commandos or body guards or some such. That is why children were taken that day," he said all in a rush, words near bleeding together in his haste to get them out. He was afraid that if he didn't say all of it now, he never would again, and something more in him would die – give over to the horror of what he had done to these people, to these children.

"You...you mean they're..."

"That's what the secret facility on Manaan is being used for," he admitted, pulling even further away from Zeb. "The kidnapped children were taken there sixteen years ago. With the handful of adults they imprisoned, they've been using them to train and- and breed their own generation of Lasat warriors," he told him, feeling like speaking these words aloud might actually cause him to throw up.

He heard the sound of Zeb's claws unsheathing, heard and felt it as they tore through the bedding they sat on. The Lasat wasn't looking at him, not really, but the look on his face still pierced the former Imperial to the heart. It was a look of shock, of angered horror, and it left Alex feeling as if he'd shot his lover himself.

How could I have ever been a part of this?

"Savè tulchuurri," he snarled unthinkingly in his own language, a phrase Alex wasn't yet familiar with. His massive shoulders trembled with rage as he spoke. "They destroy our home...and they think they can just do whatever they want with us?! Orra!" he snapped as he got to his feet, beginning to pace the room like an animal in a cage. "Alex, we can't let this go on. We have to do something."

At first, all the agent could manage to do was blink up at him in mild shock. "We?"

"Yes. You're with us, aren't you?"

"I- of course. I just..." he trailed off as he looked down at the torn bit of bedding. He couldn't deny that part of him had feared that Zeb wouldn't be able to do anything but lump him in with the rest of the Empire, and he certainly wouldn't have blamed him if he had. But Zeb easily understood the look of painful guilt in his eyes when he looked at him. Almost immediately, he began to calm.

"You thought I'd blame you for this."

At first, he couldn't speak. All he managed to do was nod, fingers briefly fisting in the rumpled blanket.

"Alex..."

"You wouldn't have been wrong to," he insisted around the strange tangle of relief and sorrow in his throat. "I would've understood. I cannot-"

Whatever he would've said was suddenly interrupted by Zeb flinging his arms around him, gathering him easily in his embrace and cradling him securely against his chest.

"Get the kriff over yourself, Kallus," he murmured in his ear with a pained, teasing laugh. "I don't think of you with them anymore. That's done with. You're doin' right. Like I said before, nothin' you say is gonna turn me from you. I l-"

Alex silenced the Lasat with a kiss, holding him there for several moments before releasing him.

"Thank you," he whispered against the Lasat's lips. "I acknowledge that- that you forgive me what I've done...but that does not erase my crimes. Nothing can do that. All I can do is try to do better. So we are absolutely going to bring this project down. I just...I don't know that we'll be able to save everyone."

"You never can," Zeb told him. "Sometimes...all you can do is save just one person, and that's gonna have to be enough...until the day when you can save more. We're gonna do what we can...what we have to."

"Right. You're right. Of course you are," Alex returned, briefly nuzzling up against the Lasat's neck. "Must let go of that Imperial thinking. Maybe all things really are possible in the Rebellion."

"Just might be," Zeb said, his latest laugh a little bit warmer. "Though...there is a nice bit of irony in the name the Empire chose for its top secret project that was meant to enslave the Lasat people."

"How so?"

"I know what ash is in Basic. I know what it means to a human. It's all that's left when somethin's burned down...it's ruin. But it means somethin' different in Lasana."

"Does it? I don't know that one yet. What does it mean?"

"In Lasana, the word ash means 'light'. I don't think there's any way the Empire knows that."

The delayed laugh Alex gave in response to that was stilted, but still with an underlying warmth and joy.

"So a soldier of ash and ruin becomes a warrior of light and freedom?" he pondered as he wiped a few stray tears from his eyes. "Yes. I would say that sounds about right."

XxX

Having served as a captain in the Grand Army of the Republic, Rex was not unused to unexpected things happening. As such, he would've said his curiosity was only mildly peaked when he noticed Wedge Antilles storming away from Chopper Base's impromptu launch field in a huff.

"Exercises not going well?" he asked as the young pilot moved past him.

"Oh, the exercise was going fine," Wedge snapped at him. "It was when our new Mandalorian friend freaked out on me that things started going south."

"Freaked out?"

The young man was starting to mutter something about crazy Mandalorian girls when he was interrupted by a sharp reprimand from a certain Twi'lek pilot. Both of them looked up to see Hera striding toward them from the direction of the field.

"Wedge, I told you to take a walk. So keep walking. All the way back."

Wedge seemed fit to argue, but clearly thought better of it when the older pilot raised a pointed eyebrow at him, her instructions clearly not up for debate. Finally, the young defector offered up a stiff salute.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said before turning and heading back into the base.

"What happened?" Rex asked her once the boy was out of earshot.

"Zelina's experience with fighters is limited, so I wanted to know what sort of skills she has. Even if she's mostly going to be medical ward, it's important for her to have certain skill sets. Wedge, Saplar, Hobbie, and I were running a few flight drills with her and she got in a lucky shot on Wedge. He wasn't expecting it, so he slipped into some sort of Academy TIE tactic."

"And that freaked the kid out?" he asked, glancing off toward the field.

"Well, apart from looking completely ridiculous in an X-wing, which certainly would've been enough to freak me out, I guess Zelina recognized the move from somewhere. That was when she panicked. Lost it and started firing on him. She could've done actual damage if Saplar hadn't talked her down. A cockpit's a really bad place for a breakdown. You want to talk to our new Mandalorian while I handle the wannabe ace?"

Rex thought about it a moment before nodding. Typically, this would be more Kanan's arena, but with him, Sabine, and Ezra off on Krownest, it looked like it was falling to him. "Sure. Where'd she get to?"

Hera offered him a relieved smile. "Thank you. Looked to me like she was heading for the zone three checkpoint."

"Right," he said before heading off. It wasn't as if the girl could go far from there; not unless she wanted to run into an angry nest of krykna. And indeed, he found Zelina pacing anxiously along the sensor boundary, as if she were actually debating taking the risk.

"Look, I'm sorry! Okay?" she called over her shoulder when she heard him approaching. "I don't know what happened. Maybe you should just send me back to Kafrene. I'll do less damage there. Or at least do damage to the people who actually deserve it."

"No way, kid. We're not in the habit of turnin' out folks with no place else to go. I wouldn't exactly consider Kafrene a place to go back to."

The moment Zelina heard his voice, she whipped around with a look of hopeful shock on her face. But almost immediately, she seemed to remember that he was not Trek and her features crumpled in misery. Turning back to face the wasteland, she dropped to a sitting pose on the hard ground, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a high voice when he came to sit beside her. "You just- you sound so much like him-"

"No, I sound exactly like him," he reminded her. "We were both cloned from the same man. I don't imagine it's gonna get any easier for you to grieve for him with me around, so I'm sorry for that."

"That's not your fault," she said with a shake of her head. "It's just...he was my family, you know? It would've been so easy for him to just ditch me somewhere- after my parents were killed. But he didn't. He let me stay with him...even though it was dangerous...even though we were always on the run. I wouldn't have traded my time with him for anything in the galaxy."

"You'll have to tell me the story sometime," he invited. "I've got plenty of my own war stories about Trek. Hells, but I could tell you a thing or two about his days as a shiny," he reminisced with a sad smile. Not just Trek. All of them. All of his brothers...so many...

"Maybe...someday I'll be able to hear them," she returned, slowly looking over at him. "I'd like to hear about him when he was younger."

"So," he continued on without much preamble, not really sure of any tactful way to approach the subject, "you maybe wanna tell me about what happened with Wedge?"

Zelina winced before looking out to the wasteland once more. "I...that move Antilles used...I've seen it before."

"Have you?" the clone pressed, though he tried to keep his voice at a more conversational level.

She nodded. "I saw it- used by a TIE pilot...on the night my parents died."

"Oh," he started in with a slow nod. "I see. I see."

"I- logically, I know it's impossible for Antilles to be that pilot. His early training's not his fault," she struggled to explain as she swiped a few loose hairs out of her face. "That and- Trek killed the soldier who killed them. They've been avenged. I just- I saw that roll and- and the way he pulled out of it for that undersweep and I just...it was like I was right back there...and I was going to have to watch my parents die all over again. I lost it," she hissed, burying her face in her knees, pulling in on herself tightly enough to avoid expressing the emotions that were so clearly tormenting her.

"I understand," he said gently, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder, gripping firmly to reassure her of his presence.

"I couldn't- do anything," she whimpered in misery, her shoulders trembling as she drew in a ragged breath. "I couldn't do anything to save my parents...or to save Trek. I just...I reacted," she said as she looked up. There were no tears on her face, but her eyes were red with the effort of not releasing them. "I couldn't just do nothing."

"It's okay," Rex soothed her, rubbing a thumb into the rough fabric of the flight suit she was still wearing. "I get it. I've had to watch people I care about die often enough. If anybody gets that, it's this band of roughnecks. I can't imagine Wedge'll hold it against you. Just take some time to talk to him. Heh, he might even show you some of the tricks he's learned since getting clear of the Empire. The point is, Zelina, we're not gonna ditch you. This isn't the Empire and it isn't the crime syndicates. We look out for our own, and you're one of us now."

When the young Mandalorian looked back at him, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Only three of them managed to escape before she was flinging her arms around him.

Rex tensed briefly in the girl's desperate embrace. Even now, he wasn't used to all the random displays of physical affection. The regimented strictness of his earliest military training was still difficult to shake. But he didn't shake Zelina off. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, giving her the comfort she needed. He noted the silent tears she let fall as they soaked his undershirt, but he didn't comment on them. He just let her be, let it all be. He couldn't say how long it was before they finally separated and he helped her back to her feet.

"Come on, kid. Let's get you back in your own gear, yeah?" he said, offering her his hand for the walk back.

"Right," she said with a tiny smile. "I'd like that."

XxX

Even though Alex was confident they'd allowed enough time for his tail to get offworld, the pair still didn't risk leaving Moon Dust together. Zeb left first, with a solid twenty minutes between his departure and Alex's. The agent followed carefully, making absolutely certain he wasn't being followed before venturing even one step in the direction of the Phantom II.

Chopper was taking care of some sort of diagnostic on the shuttle's hull when he approached their docking bay. The droid gave several medium-toned beeps before rocking side to side on his treads.

"Well, would you rather I had been impatient and accidentally brought unwanted guests with me?" he fired back at the little astromech.

Chopper gave an exaggerated swing of his left manipulator before issuing what, for a droid, could only be described as a suggestive whistle.

Alex immediately felt his cheeks burn at the droid's less than veiled insinuation. "Not really, if you must know. Perhaps there's more important work to be done just now."

The droid spun his dome very slowly to emphasize the protracted stream of warbling that composed his next statement.

The former Imperial whipped his head properly in the astromech's direction in shock, some part of his mind very much aware that Hera allowed that sort of programming. "And that is officially more information about Kanan Jarrus than I wanted or needed."

"Better get inside then," Zeb said when he stuck his head out of the shuttle. "He won't stop."

Chopper gave one last pleased whistle before Alex made his way inside the small craft. He was greeted by the sight of Arkalia climbing all over the headrest of one of the pilot's seats.

"O- oh, my," he started with a small laugh. When the baby Lasat heard his voice, she looked up. Immediately, a look of pure joy lit her small face and she began squealing excitedly. "Hello to you, too."

Almost before he knew it, the kit had launched herself into the air, nearly giving him a heart attack in the process. He didn't even have to think about jumping forward to catch her. He was just in motion, arms stretching out to catch her small body before she could hit the floor of the shuttle. Before his heart even had a chance to start beating again, he found himself with an armful of squirming, giggling kit.

"Crazy loth kitten," he scolded her as he cradled her tightly against his chest. "You scared me."

"I told you, didn't I? Climbin' maniac," Zeb said with an amused grin as he leaned casually against the shuttle wall.

"How a Lasat parent stands it, I have no idea," he returned, kissing the top of the kit's head with a loud smacking sound and drawing even more laughter from her.

"Well, grown Lasat are also climbin' maniacs, so it mostly evens out," he said with a smiled shrug.

Alex turned fully toward him with a raised eyebrow. "You know, somehow I don't see you climbing these chairs."

The Lasat's smile shifted into more of a predatory smirk. "Oh, I'll show you just how well I climb. Just you wait."

"Behave, Captain," he scolded, shivering mildly at the look. "There are impressionable ears present." He knew they probably both regretted not being able to do...more during their encounter, but what they had done had very much been necessary and Alex knew he felt better for it.

"Heh, right. I probably got somethin' you'll both enjoy hearin' though," Zeb said as he pulled something from his utility belt – what looked to be a small recording device. "Ketsu finally got back to us with a Basic translation of that lullaby."

"Oh?" Alex started in curiosity as he moved back toward the former guardsman. "Let's hear it then."

Zeb nodded once before activating the little device. Immediately, Ketsu Onyo's voice was sounding from it.

"Okay, Sabine, I'm gonna preface this by saying that I really can't sing. So you're just going to have to judge my work based on the actual words and not on the way they sound, because no, I did not just record a dying moof."

The singing that issued from the device was hesitant at first, perhaps a little out of tune and rough, but nowhere near as bad as its owner had claimed it would be. The song she sang was still gentle, still a sweet love song to life and to joy.

Under the snow

Beneath the frozen streams

There is life

You have to know

When nature sleeps she dreams

There is life

And the colder the winter

The warmer the spring

The deeper the sorrow

The more our hearts sing

Even when you can't see it

Inside everything

There is life

After the rain

The sun will reappear

There is life

After the pain

The joy will still be here

There is life

For it's out of the darkness

That we learn to see

And out of the silence that

Songs come to be

And all that we dream of

Awaits patiently

There is life

There is life

Alex sighed as the song came to an end. He couldn't help but notice that Arkalia had become a little less hyperactive while listening to it.

"That was beautiful," he said in a quiet voice as he combed his fingers through Arkalia's purple hair. It had gotten long enough to be tied behind her head. "How was the translation, do you think?"

"She did good. It came out real nice."

"Then I'll have to learn them both. She seems to enjoy this song particularly."

"Yeah. Maybe you should record it for her?" Zeb suggested, smiling as he tickled the kit under the chin. "It'd be nice if she had you singin' to her."

"I...I think I'd like that," he said, his voice still quiet as he watched her reach out with one foot to grab at Zeb's wrist.

"Ah la la! Maab!" she trilled in excitement when she finally got ahold of the much larger Lasat, her tiny toes curling awkwardly around his wrist. Alex nearly found himself gasping at the precious sight. Really, was there nothing these two couldn't make perfectly adorable?

"Heh, I wish I could get a capture of the pair of you right now. Any image would do, really."

"What do you mean?" Zeb asked, disentangling himself from Arkalia's grip and looking up at him.

"I...well...I was forced to wipe Sabine's files from the datapad I'd stored them on. Konstantine might've seen them otherwise. Don't worry. He didn't see anything," he reassured the Lasat. "I made sure of that."

"And you're...still safe where you are?" Zeb pressed him, reaching forward to stroke at a strand of loose blond hair. "They're not onto you?"

"Don't worry," he said with a small grin. "They won't catch me."

"Much as I wanna call you on bein' cocky, I am definitely holdin' you to that one," Zeb told him before heading up to the cockpit, beginning to rummage through one of the compartments.

"Well...it's not as if you'll be able to say you told me so if they do catch me," he said with a small shrug, and almost immediately Zeb was glaring back at him.

"Yeah, gonna put a stop to that line of thinkin' right now. If I don't get to joke about it, you don't get to either. Besides, I got somethin' better for us to do," he said, emerging with a datapad. As he keyed his way into it, he sat down against one of the shuttle walls, nodding that Alex ought to join him. So he sat down next to him, watching in rapt attention as the device projected a holo of Chopper with Arkalia draped all over his dome, mouth wide open in a joyous laugh.

A stream of holos followed from the first one, each one carefully showing only the interior of the Ghost or of a base, but never giving away a planetary location. There were images of Arkalia climbing up a smiling Kanan, of Ezra picking her up with the Force, of Sabine painting with her – there had apparently been a point when the kit had somehow managed to get half her face covered in green paint – images of the little kit with other rebels, every last one of them smiling as they played with her. There was even an image of Sato, smiling uncertainly as the baby Lasat latched herself onto his boot. There were images of Hera going about maintenance checks on the Ghost with the sleeping kit secured in a carrier on her back, and holos of Rex napping with the baby girl. There was even an image or two of Rau with the little one, not in any way sure what to make of her.

And of course there was Zeb. Zeb and Lia. Images of him feeding her with a tender smile on his face, play-batting at her tiny paws with his own large fingers, her climbing all over him while he playfully grabbed for her, her chewing on his ear while Hera laughingly pulled her from her perch on his head. Despite the fact that this was all taking place on a hidden military base in the middle of a cold war, it was all beautifully domestic, and as had happened with all the previous times he'd looked through his own collection of holos, Alex found himself remarkably soothed by it all – soothed by the images of the little family and soothed by the easy weight of Arkalia in his arms and Zeb's warm, solid presence at his side. With this gentle comfort he was so used to doing without, it didn't take him long to drift into a peaceful doze, waking only once when he vaguely felt Zeb shifting him to lie down somewhere. So, with Arkalia still in his arms and Zeb's arms around him, he fell into a deep sleep, not waking until several hours later.

When Alex did wake from his sleep, it was to the sight of the morning sun shining through the Phantom II's forward viewport. Had he...really slept through the night?

Shifting about a bit, he found himself laid out on a pallet of some kind in the shuttle's crew cabin. Arkalia was still cradled against his chest, but Zeb was nowhere to be seen. The first sign of movement he had was Chopper rolling over from a small charging station.

"Good morning, Chopper," he said, being careful not to wake Arkalia as he gathered her in his arms to properly sit up. "Where's Zeb got to?"

The astromech gave a cranky whir at the question, tapping at his dome with a manipulator. But then he gave a more conceding string of beeps before venturing over to one of the shuttle's supply compartments.

"But...what would he be looking for?" Alex wondered, only partly to the droid. Chopper's response was cut off when Arkalia woke with a distressed screech, her tiny claws biting painfully into his arm.

The agent's only response was a small grunt of pain. Almost immediately, he drew the baby girl up to rest against his chest, gently rubbing her back.

"Oh, there now. What's wrong, Lia?"

As if on cue, Chopper rolled up with a prepared bottle, passing it off to him with a warble and a chirp.

"Thank you, Chopper," he acknowledged the droid before offering the bottle to Arkalia. She latched on immediately, gripping the bottle in both hands, even managing to get a foot around the end of it. Alex laughed at the intent look on her face as she fed. "There now. Isn't that better?"

Arkalia was very deep into the bottle by the time Zeb returned, some sort of pastie held in one hand while he finished off another.

"Mornin'," he greeted as he came up to them, dropping a kiss on Arkalia's head before shifting up to place a gentle peck on Alex's lips. "Sleep well?"

"Very well, surprisingly."

"Here. Let me take her. You need to eat," the Lasat said, holding out his arms for Arkalia while offering Alex the pastie.

He didn't protest, easily making the switch off and watching Zeb finish off the feeding session while he took a bite of his breakfast.

He would admit to having a bit of a moment with that first bite. The pastie crust was light and perfectly flaky, while the filling was savory and rich, that first swallow sending a pleasant warmth straight to the core of him. He didn't fully recognize the flavor profile of the spices that had been used, but the meat was definitely bantha.

Zeb chuckled quietly as he watched him eat. "Not seen much real food since Alluvium, then?"

"None at all, actually. Thank you," he said between bites. "A Star Destroyer's not exactly the living end as far as cuisine goes."

"Right," he said, taking a moment to clean any milk from the kit's face before just letting her latch onto him without any aid from a carrier. "No wonder all you Imps are always so grumpy."

"Of course. So what was it you were looking for? It can't have just been food. Chopper said you'd gone to do a little shopping."

"I did, yeah. Found what I was lookin' for, too," he said, going to retrieve his datapad whilst pulling something from the pouch that had previously been occupied by Ketsu's recording.

The new device was a small silver sphere, featureless save for a tiny access port, and it was situated as a pendant on a slender silver chain. While Alex watched, Zeb connected the little thing to his datapad, facilitating some sort of data transfer.

"What is that?"

"Took some doin' to find this. It's a recorder pendant. I thought you could use one. It'd be less suspicious for you to keep private holos on somethin' like this. Less likely to be searched. You could keep it with you always," Zeb explained as the file collection transferred.

Alex honestly didn't know what to say to that at first. All he could seem to do was stand there dumbfounded as the Lasat set everything up. It was such a little thing, insignificant in the grand spinning of the galaxy, but to him it was everything. It was the light he needed to see him through. And really, their entire relationship had been like that – little things, little moments, little gestures. A light, a willing ear, a hand – tiny little things that were so inconsequential to the rest of the galaxy, but had undone and remade his galaxy.

This Lasat...this fool Lasat ...

"Thank you," he whispered as Zeb came to place the pendant around his neck. He honestly could've cried when Arkalia reached out a paw to bat at the shiny little thing, but instead he laughed as he tucked his treasure beneath his shirt, already comforted by the cool weight of it against his chest.

They spent the rest of their day planning the breakout of the Manaan facility, backup plans, contingencies, and several different scenarios, all while Arkalia crawled and climbed around the interior of the shuttle, playing with Chopper, who would occasionally put in his salty two credits over the whole situation.

"Do you think Command will go for this?" Alex asked Zeb by the time they'd reached a stopping point.

"I'll put everything by Kanan and Hera first. Sato'll listen to Hera. Even if nobody goes for it, I'm gonna be with you. We're doin' this, no matter what Command says. We can't let this chance go," Zeb insisted, but then his expression went somewhat disquiet when he watched Alex lift a sleepy Arkalia from Chopper's dome. "Though...with...hopefully, with all those Lasat with us, we'll be able to make the run for our safe place. The way'll be openin' up soon."

"The thought had occurred to me, yes," the former Imperial returned quietly as he rocked the worn out kit, his expression torn as he gazed down at her. "She will finally be safe."

"I...I'll be sure to bring her to you...before we make the run," Zeb said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head when Alex looked up at him. He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn't quite decide on what to say. Alex just nodded in response.

"Yes. Thank you," he said before nuzzling Arkalia's small head and dropping a kiss on the top. "Farewell, my lady. Sleep tight. I'll be seeing you at least once more," he said, and reluctant though he was to let her go, he settled her back on Chopper's dome, where she yawned once before drifting off to sleep.

He and Zeb then headed to the shuttle's exit ramp hand in hand, sharing a small kiss on the threshold before he headed out.

"Do..." he started softly against the Lasat's lips, "do you think maybe we could meet back up at Moon Dust before we head off? I'd like at least one drink with you that's not under false pretenses."

"Wouldn't be for very long, but I'm game."

"All right. See you in half an hour."

If Alex's internal clock was still any good, it was exactly twenty-nine minutes later that Zeb bellied up to the bar beside him.

"Mm, fancy seeing you here," he said with a grin as he glanced sideways at the Lasat. "What are we drinking tonight?" he asked, subtly informing his partner they were in the clear on his end.

"Little lighter this time around, I think," he answered, the cue that told Alex they were free and clear to do what they wanted. "Karabast, but you are a tough one to keep up with. Shaddaa starfire," he ordered when he caught the bartender's eye – a human woman this time.

Alex gave an easy laugh at that one. "Really? Isn't that basically water to your stomach?"

"Basically," Zeb agreed as he eyed the Chandrilan liqueur Alex was nursing. "But maybe I'd like a bit more of a clear head tonight. What about you? That seems a bit on the light side."

"Oh, I've an incurable sweet tooth, you'll find," he said, raising his glass to Zeb as the Lasat's acid green drink arrived, the foam still faintly sparking.

"Gonna have to keep that in mind," Zeb said, clinking his glass against Alex's before taking a long drink.

Alex wasn't completely certain what he was going to say next, but the words were suddenly lost when he heard the opening notes of the song the Twi'lek singer at the far end of the bar was starting up on.

It had been a long time since he'd heard the song – back before Lasan, before Onderon, even, when he'd gone into a different bar on Malastare with his unit during their leave. Anasch had liked it, and Tenar had joked that it ought to be her and Kuron's song. And Alita Kuron, in her typical defiant fashion, had led the younger woman onto the floor for a dance.

"You awake in there?" he suddenly became aware of Zeb's voice.

"I- yes," he responded, shaking himself out of the reverie of the two young women dancing. "I just...it's been so long since I've heard this song."

"Heh, half-surprised you know an Outer Rim tune like this. What is that? Jedhan?" the Lasat asked of the language.

"It is. I first heard it in a bar not so different from this one...with my unit," he said, voice going distant yet again.

"Oh," Zeb said softly, easily taking his meaning. "So...d'you know any of the words?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Or at least I've seen enough Basic translations to have a good idea. Other than that, my Jedhan is only passable."

"So what's he singin' about then?"

Alex didn't sing the verses he'd learned. That would've interrupted the song a little too rudely for his tastes. Instead he spoke them quietly, giving voice to the beautiful lyrics he'd heard so long ago.

Floating beyond time

There's a city made of wind

Please, dear, take me there

Where dreams draped in white flowers

Come true

Holding anxious hands

Calm me with a kiss and then

Please, dear, guide me there

Where love that was forgotten

Can bloom

And, darling, in the afternoon

We'll sleep in the sun

And wake to a time when

The hunting is done

And then when I see you

I'll know in my heart what I've won

And, darling, in the afternoon

We'll sleep in the sun

And wake to a time when

The hunting is done

And then when I see you

I'll know in my heart what I've won

Please, dear, take me there

When Alex returned to Moon Dust, the image of Alita and Klaidi still dancing behind his eyes, he looked over to find Zeb gazing at him with an odd, fond smile on his face.

"That's real nice."

"It- well- the lyrics aren't perfect, but...that captures the meaning well enough," he said, feeling his cheeks starting to redden. "Two of the girls, it- it was their song. They used to dance to it."

"About life after a war," Zeb said in a contemplative voice. "Think you'd ever...be able to dance to it yourself?"

"Oh, I've never been much of a dancer," he said as he leaned into his partner, letting him know that he took both his meanings as they swayed slightly to the music. "But I'd be willing to try...with you."

Zeb sighed in contentment as they leaned still further into each other, listening to the song and sipping their drinks. When their comforting, companionable silence was suddenly interrupted, it was through Zeb's gently whispered Lasana.

"Ni Tinsana."

"You- said that before. What does it mean?" Alex asked as he glanced up at the former guardsman.

"The Tinsahn Keeraw. It's the Way of the Bond," Zeb began to explain in a much more serious tone. "Among my people it's the name of those who are bound together. Sometimes that means in friendship or brotherhood. Sometimes it even means sworn enemies. A lot of the time, it's- two lovers...a bond of love. Whatever else it is...it's two souls that have been bound together by fate...to whatever end. You and me...we've been bound together from the start. I think I knew that...even then...but I didn't say it to myself for a long time. Tinsana is...bondmate."

"Zeb..."

"La rokir rrazehan. An san ni Tinsana," he said solemnly.

I know your name. You are my Bondmate.

"It doesn't have to mean anythin' more than you want it to. I know what it means to me. What it means to you is your own decision," the Lasat said as he draped an arm around his shoulders, holding him close, but not uncomfortably so.

He was sure of his feelings for Garazeb Orrelios. What he really needed was time to figure out if this new concept was enough to encompass what he felt.

"I thought I'd made my feelings on the matter quite plain," he said, offering his partner a small sideways smile. "I love you, Captain."

Zeb's response began with a light chuckle. "Yeah, I know. And seein' as how I'm still technically forbidden to say it, I'll have to try another approach. L'ashkerrir an," he said, pressing a kiss to the agent's ear.

Alex laughed, even as he felt tears of joy beginning to prick behind his eyes. He knew enough Lasana to know the meaning of those words. "I'm quite certain that's cheating."

"Maybe, but I don't really care," Zeb said with a shrug. "I couldn't let you go back without you knowin'. Not this time."

Neither of them said anything for a long while after. They just held onto each other, each nursing their drink very slowly. Because they both knew what would happen when those drinks were gone.

XxX

It was strange for Ezra not to have Sabine around.

Granted, there had been plenty of times one went on a mission without the other. It wasn't as if they were never apart, but all the times before, the separation had been with the understanding that they'd be seeing each other back at the Ghost. But now, with her staying behind on Krownest, not knowing when he'd see her again...

Not that he wasn't happy for her. It was awesome that she was getting to reconcile with her family and help spark rebellion among the Mandalorians. But...still...he missed her.

And he must've already been losing his mind from it if he was actually taking Kanan up on his suggestion of meditation to get his head on straight.

His master had even steered him to what they still referred to as his room. Though, honestly, he wasn't sure why any of them were continuing to pretend that the knight still slept alone. Either way, it was less distracting to work in Kanan's fairly nondescript room. Unfortunately, all he could seem to do was think about Sabine, and that led him to the other absent members of the little family – Zeb and Arkalia. Even Kallus, for crying out loud!

Thoughts of Arkalia were amusing enough, though. The sound of her laughter, of her high-pitched squeals of excitement, of the way she would kick her tiny but strong Lasat feet, the way she would try to coo along with them when any of them sang to her. It was so easy to think of her, in fact, that he wasn't even all that surprised to feel the tiny pat of her paws suddenly clinging to him as she scampered up his back.

"Hey!" he jibed in amusement. "Just what do you think you're doing in here?"

He tried to turn and retrieve the naughty little kit, but when he actually looked behind him, he found no one there.

"I...wha-"

And when he turned back, he found his location had somehow changed.

Instead of sitting in Kanan's old room, he found himself in a circular chamber, its walls consisting largely of floor to ceiling windows. The last light of day was shining through those windows, and from what he could see of the world beyond them, the room seemed to be located in a building that rose above a massive city – a city that had no end from what he could see.

The only thing to be seen in the chamber itself was a ring of seats, all of different shapes and sizes.

"What...what is this?" he asked aloud as he rose from the seat he'd been sitting in, not really sure who he'd been expecting an answer from.

A vision?

Hearing a small laugh, he looked to the center of the room to see Arkalia there, rolling around on the floor and chewing on a stuffed loth cat.

"Ari?"

For a moment, she looked up at him, smiling. Then she rolled onto all fours and began to crawl away.

"Hey! Hold on," he protested, feeling a smile start to turn up the corners of his own mouth as he moved to follow her. But then he started to notice other things in the chamber. Not actual living beings, just...shapes...shadows...phantom impressions on the air. One moment, he'd almost swear he could see a little kid peaking out from behind one of the chairs, but then he'd actually turn to look and the image would twist into vapor and fade away.

"Ari?" he tried to call out again, gaze flicking nervously around the space as the daylight vanished. "I don't think we should be here."

His words were met by the sound of heavily mechanized breathing.

Oh, no.

When he looked to the doorway that led from the chamber, it was to see the shadowy masked figure from his nightmares. The figure he now knew had a name.

Vader.

Anakin Skywalker.

"You are correct in that, young one," the Sith lord said. "This is where Jedi bratlings come to die."

Then his lightsaber shrieked to life in a burst of red light and he was moving forward. Not toward Ezra...but Arkalia.

"NO!" Ezra shouted, reacting without thought. Almost before he was aware of it, he had his own lightsaber in hand and he was standing over the little girl, his blade locked with Vader's in an effort to keep him from killing her.

"You are the same, Ezra Bridger. You and the girl," the Sith taunted him in a strangely even voice. "The Empire has decreed your deaths, and it will have what it is due."

"So what do you expect us to do? Just lay down and die?" Ezra challenged, feeling his arms shake with the effort of maintaining the stalemate. No matter how frightened he was, no matter how little chance he had against this creature, he couldn't just stand aside. He couldn't run away.

"I expect you to know your place, and you, child, are no Jedi!" the Sith lord snarled as he raised a hand, bringing the Force to bear on Ezra.

The next moment he was flying through the air. The last thing he saw before crashing through a window was Vader raising his lightsaber over the baby Lasat.

"ARI!" he screamed as he plummeted through the air, falling toward the city below. But instead of impacting against metal and glass, he found himself landing heavily on dusty ground. Shooting upright, his gaze darted around for Arkalia.

"Ari?" he called out in worry, searching, but his gaze fell on someone else instead.

Wedge and Zelina.

As the sun rose, lighting up the landscape, he realized they were on Atollon. What was happening? Was he back? Was this still some sort of vision?

"Don't worry about it," Wedge said, leaning against the rock the younger girl was sitting on top of. "We all screw up sometimes."

"Still...screwing up in the field gets people killed. That's what Trek used to say. I want to do better."

"Wedge?" Ezra tried to call out, but the second he raised his hand toward them, the daylight twisted around him, curling in on itself until he was standing on the bridge of a ship, just a few meters away from Sabine. The first thing he noticed was that her hair was cut much shorter than he'd ever seen it, and it was dyed a solid, vibrant purple color. More than this, though, he was concerned by the tears he saw pouring down her face.

"I will kill you, Ezra! I might actually karking kill you this time," she sobbed, scrubbing futilely at her face with one hand.

"Sabine..." he started, hand still outstretched from where he'd been reaching out to Wedge. But before he could determine if she could actually see him, the scene transformed again.

The blackness of space rushed in through the bridge's view ports, coalescing into some sort of dimly lit office. And instead of Sabine standing there, it was Kallus, bo-rifle extended, but not yet ignited. Ezra couldn't see the source, but his face was lit by some kind of strange blue-green light.

"I don't want to fight," Kallus said in a low voice, though he was clearly ready to.

"That's unfortunate," an unfamiliar female voice answered from behind Ezra, but just as he was turning to see who had spoken, he found himself staring down one of Lothal's thoroughfares instead. It was dark, but he could still clearly see the speeder bearing down on him – the speeder piloted by his master.

"Kanan!" he shouted just when the knight was about to crash right into him. Kanan brought the speeder up short at the last possible moment, the force of the sharp move throwing him clear of the vehicle and sending him rolling several meters.

Ezra's first instinct was to go and help him, but then he got a good look at the way Kanan was almost shaking as he got back to his feet.

"Where are you?" the Jedi demanded, something harsh and heavy in his voice.

"Kanan?" he couldn't quite help whispering, even though he understood by now that none of the other visions had been able to see him. None except Vader.

"I don't have time for this!" Kanan ground out as he stalked back to the speeder. "If you wanna help, fine. Otherwise, stay out of my way."

What's wrong?

It had been a while since he'd heard his master so bent out of shape. Since before Malachor, even. And even though he understood that Kanan couldn't see or sense him from whatever distance in time this was, he still couldn't help trying to reach out one last time as the knight turned slowly back in his direction.

"Kanan!" he called out, even as the world changed around him once again – changed into a much noisier, violent setting.

He could see Kallus, standing in the doorway of some sort of hangar bay, battered and bloody, clearly favoring one leg over the other as he made a valiant effort to remain upright. Even though he looked like death warmed over, he still somehow managed a small smile.

"I know what I'm doing," he said, his voice soft despite the blare of alarms overhead. "This is the only way."

"Alex, don't do this," Zeb's voice sounded from somewhere behind him, but before he could turn to the Lasat, a distant volley of blaster fire interrupted them.

Kallus flinched mildly at the sound, but he still smiled for Zeb, and even though Ezra couldn't understand his next words, he could understand the look in the former Imperial's eyes when he spoke them.

"Garazeb...La rokir rrazehan. An san ni Tinsana. Go, my love."

Then a door was slamming shut between them and Zeb was screaming. Again, Ezra tried to turn to him, but then the visions disappeared altogether and he was falling again.

High above him, he could see faces, some familiar and some not. Each figure reached out a hand to him, trying to grab hold, but they were always just out of reach.

"Ezra!" Kanan cried out.

"Ezra!" a Jedi master with intricately braided brown hair called his name.

"Ezra!" his parents shouted.

"Ezra!" a boy with dark blond hair and blue eyes called out to him.

"Ezra!" Master Kenobi shouted down to him.

"Ezra!" a girl with brown hair and wide brown eyes called out.

"Ezra!" Sabine screamed.

"Ezra!" a Cathar girl with vivid green eyes cried.

"Ezra!" Ahsoka called to him.

"Ezra!" a much younger girl with long black hair and blue eyes cried out.

"Ezra!" a young boy with short green hair called out for him.

EZRA.

"Ezra?"

The last was different – a question. Not a cry.

Feeling a hand finally grab his, he looked up to see...well...himself.

At least, he was pretty sure that was who it was. He was older and had more scars, but the young Jedi found it easy to recognize the eyes that always looked back at him from the mirror.

The figure had a light dusting of facial hair and his hair was much longer than Ezra's was right now. In fact, it was pulled back in a style that reminded him a lot of...Kanan.

"It's all right," his older self said to him, offering him a smile that had only the slightest tinge of pain in it. "Everything's- going to be all right."

"But...what's going to happen?" he tried to ask.

His future self just smirked down at him before releasing him. There were a few wild moments in which Ezra thought he was just going to keep falling forever, but it took only those few moments to fall back into Kanan's room.

Upon snapping out of the vision, he jolted up off the meditation couch with a sharp cry, barely managing to keep his feet. His gaze darted around the room as he drew in several ragged breaths.

"What- just happened?"

"Ezra?" Kanan's concerned voice sounded at the closed door before it slid open, admitting the knight. "What happened? I felt...you were freaking out over something."

"I just...I had a vision," he finally managed to answer, looking toward his master.

"Don't suppose I should bother asking if it was bad or not," Kanan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ezra sighed, running a hand through his short hair. "Not so much. No."

"Tell me," Kanan invited, indicating that Ezra should sit back down while he seated himself in front of the couch, prepared to listen.

"I...well...some of it I couldn't really explain," he started as he settled himself back on the small couch. "I saw places I've never seen before...people I've never met."

"Well, you can always start from the beginning and see what you can work out."

"Right," Ezra said distantly, nodding out of habit. "The first part of it was...Ari and me. We were in this round room, and it looked like it was high above a city."

Kanan tensed slightly on hearing his description. "Did this room have floor to ceiling glass windows? And twelve seats?"

"I didn't- count the seats or anything, but yes. That was what it looked like. Have you seen it before?"

Kanan nodded. "I have. That's the council chamber in the Jedi Temple back on Coruscant. It was where the High Council met to decide matters for the Order. At one time, my own master sat on the Council."

"I...I got this really bad feeling about it. Like we shouldn't have been there...and...that was when Vader showed up."

"You fought Vader?" Kanan asked him.

"Yeah. He was going to kill us. He talked about- how we were the same...how the Empire wanted us dead," he recounted, shaking at the memory of the Sith lord's pointed hate.

"Well...he wasn't wrong. You being a Jedi student and Ari being a Lasat."

"Right. I tried to protect her, but he just- tossed me out of the tower...and I was falling...and I started seeing other things."

"What things?"

"I saw Wedge and Zelina. I don't know what they were talking about, but they were here on Atollon. I saw Sabine...and she was- crying," he said with a small wince. "I'm not sure why. I saw Kallus a few times. Once when he was about to fight someone and again when...actually, I'm not- really sure. I think he was about to do something Zeb didn't want him to do."

"Yeah. I get the feeling that's gonna happen a lot with those two," Kanan said, sighing as he shook his head. "I've seen Kallus in a lot of my own visions but, to be fair...he has a lot to do with the future of the rebellion right now."

"It was just- so much I didn't understand. I feel like when I've had visions in the past, I've had a better handle on them. Like I understood where they were trying to lead me."

"And then you've turned out to be wrong each time, haven't you," Kanan pointed out. "It's not in any way black and white, this whole vision business. I've been dealing with it a lot myself recently. My advice to you is to consider what each vision actually tells you about the person or event you're seeing. Don't think about it in terms of what you want to see, but what's actually present. You might just find better answers that way."

"Kanan," he continued uncertainly, knowing he wasn't going to reveal that he'd seen him in his visions, but wanting to talk about at least one more of them, "I think...I think I saw myself in one of the visions. Like it was me in the future."

"And what were you doing in that vision?" Kanan asked him.

"I'd been falling. I fell so far, and a lot of people tried to catch me, but they couldn't. In the end...I caught me. And that me...all he told me was that everything was going to be all right. Why would I need to say that?" he asked his master.

Kanan thought about it for only a moment before responding with, "Well...doesn't that seem like something you'd do?"

"Huh?"

"If you could reach back to yourself in the past and you only had a limited amount of time to speak, what would you tell yourself? What would the you from right now tell that little street rat from Lothal who was still sitting in Kallus' brig after getting mixed up in a heist?"

"I guess...I'd tell him it was all gonna work out," he responded with a faint smile after thinking about it for several moments.

"Exactly. So I'd say it's safe to assume that, whatever it is that's coming your way, your future self wanted you to know that you'll get through it."

Ezra gave a quiet laugh at that one. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

"So," Kanan started as he got back to his feet, "think maybe you could give not dwelling on it a try for the time being?"

"I think I probably could," he said, cracking a smile as he joined his master in standing. "I'm gonna go find Zelina and the others. I haven't talked to 'em much yet."

Chapter Text

Thinking on it, Zeb found himself realizing he'd maybe gotten a little too used to letting Hera and Kanan do the talking.

Somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten his ability to command. After his failure on Lasan and his aimless drifting through the galaxy, he'd come to a point where he was merely existing. He fought for the cause, of course, unleashed his own raw strength in whatever direction it was aimed, but he'd forgotten how to shape that strength. Without perspective, he'd lost his own stake in the fight, lost everything but the drive to destroy as many Imperials as he could.

That stake had started to make itself known again with Lira San, and had really shaken itself awake when he'd realized what could be between him and Kallus. When Arkalia had come into their care, he'd truly been feeling like he had something worth fighting for again. Kal's new mission was the latest in that line of reawakenings. He was ready and willing to lay down his life to free even one more Lasat – to do what he hadn't been able to that day sixteen years ago. As such, he was not going to let anything stop him.

Not even the uncertain side eye Sato was currently giving him.

"I still don't like this, Captain Orrelios. Up until now, our raids have remained in the Outer Rim territories. Mid Rim at the worst. But to risk venturing to the Inner Rim? It is trouble we have not known. Even for the chance of liberating captives, this may not be worth the risk in the end."

"Not worth the risk for a functionally extinct species. Is that what you're sayin'?" Zeb couldn't quite help challenging.

"Not worth the risk for our entire cell is what I am saying," the commander said, meeting his gaze full on.

"We're not risking anyone but Spectre Cell," Kanan argued.

"Which is risk enough as it is," Sato pointed out. "We are not a large enough force to go bandying ourselves about without thought or cause. After all, Captain, what good will you be to your people if you are dead?"

"I was dead once," Zeb started in a low voice, feeling the thrum of it deep in his chest as he tried to explain himself to the human. "As good as dead, at least. I had nobody left who cared what happened to me. Far as I knew, I was the last living Lasat in the whole galaxy. So I made a damn fine prize for the slavers that got me."

"Zeb..." Hera's quiet voice came into the silence that followed that sentence when Zeb hadn't immediately been able to continue. Her tone said he didn't have to finish if he didn't want to, but he knew he would. He had to. He owed it to his people, to his fallen brothers of the Guard, to Kanan and Hera – to himself.

"That would'a been the end of me...dyin' in some circus or arena...or a mine...or worse. Except for two stupid do-gooders who couldn't leave well enough alone," he said, throwing small, grateful smiles to the two younger rebels who stood on either side of him. Though Kanan's expression was mostly concealed, his lips turned upward in an answering small smile, while Hera's smile was her usual warm, encouraging look. When he turned back to Sato, it was with a look that was less angry and more determined. "So yeah, this might be a bit on the fool side, but I've still gotta do it. It's not even about them bein' my people. It's because I've been there. I know exactly what this is like. If we don't do it, no one else will. It's just more and more people enslaved to the Empire, and that only makes our fight harder. I know nobody wants that. So let's just...do this," he ground out with a frustrated shrug. "Because we have to. Because it's right."

Sato surveyed him for a long moment, and in that time, Zeb had no idea if he'd swayed the human or not. But when the commander gave a sigh and allowed his shoulders to slump in acceptance, Zeb breathed his own sigh of relief.

"I really do not like it, but I suppose I don't have to like it for it to need doing. The plan is well-conceived. And you are certain there is a safe place to transport these refugees after the fact?"

"Positive," Zeb said. "Same place- same place Kali's goin'."

"Then I will sanction this mission, so long as you are all aware of the time constraints it may place for the attack on Lothal," he finished, looking around at all of them.

"Understood," Hera said.

"Of course," Kanan agreed.

Ezra was the longest in responding, but he ultimately nodded, offering Zeb a pained grin. "Like you said. If we don't do it, no one else will."

"Thanks, Ezra, for- understandin'," Zeb said to his bunkmate. "I owe you one."

"Pretty sure we decided we weren't keeping score anymore," the young Jedi said with a small laugh, coming to him to give him a teasing punch on the shoulder.

"Yeah, but some things you just owe," he told the kid with a returned ruffle of his short hair. It was a habit he couldn't quite kick, despite the many months that had elapsed since he'd taken up the hairstyle.

"I'll keep that in mind," Ezra ribbed right back.

"Careful, Zeb," Kanan warned with a small grin of his own. "You know what you're getting yourself into with that one?"

"I'll take my chances," Zeb returned, smiling at all of them again. He'd known they would all have his back. Now all that remained was to break into a secret Imperial facility and liberate a small army of young Lasat.

There was only a small chance of success, but really, when was there not? He couldn't save his people. Not really. That notion was a distant dream; but he could at least save someone.

XxX

"Zelina!" Wedge called out as he moved along the base's perimeter, searching for the young Mandalorian. Honestly, it was starting to seem to him that their youngest recruit had a bit of a passion for flirting with the dangers along the barrier. Still, if he couldn't find her-

"Wedge?" an oddly gentle voice sounded from directly overhead, startling him. When his gaze shot up to the cluster of boulders he'd been passing, it was to see Zelina's dark head poking over the top of them, no rhyme or reason to the haphazard collection of braids that festooned her head. When she saw him, she offered up a lopsided smile. "Sorry. Did I scare you?"

The pilot exhaled loudly, scrubbing a hand through his hair rather than admit to the charge of having been scared. "You need to keep your comlink on like a normal person. Tera was worried about you. Hera's also been looking for you."

"Oh," she started, reaching to her belt to check the blinking comlink. Then she sighed in a frustrated tone that was more in line with his impression of her thus far. "It is on. I guess I just- didn't notice."

"Come out here to meditate or something?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked up at her.

She shrugged, sitting back down on the boulder. "Something like that. It was a habit Trek picked up from his general and my dad and I started doing it, too. I never- apologized to you...did I," she started up again, using that same oddly gentle tone he wasn't completely used to from her.

"Don't worry about it," he said as he leaned against the boulder. "We all screw up sometimes."

"Still...screwing up in the field gets people killed. That's what Trek used to say. I want to do better."

"It's okay. You're still grieving. It's not your fault," he said, his mind vaguely skating along the surface of some of his own griefs before he could turn away from them. "I- probably overreacted a bit myself. I wasn't expecting to deal with anything out of the ordinary that day. I think I've been getting into too much of a routine since Sabine busted us out of Skystrike. You...get used to it, I guess. The Empire's psycho as all get out, but they do keep things orderly."

Zelina gave a small chuckle at that one. "Guess we'll have to get you running on scum and villainy time, then."

Wedge joined in with a laugh of his own. "If you're gonna do that for me, I can probably help you do better in a cockpit. I know I might've left a bad impression on you, but I'm actually a halfway decent pilot."

That one drew more of a wry laugh from the girl, the glint in her dark eyes letting him know that her next words weren't serious. "Sure, if reverting to Imperial tactics is what you call good piloting."

"You never know. Maybe I'd been trying to lull you into a false sense of superiority."

"I'll believe that when I see it," she said before straight up rolling off the boulder, coming to land in front of Wedge while he stared at her with wide eyes, more than a little impressed by the move. He didn't realize she'd asked him something until she started waving a hand in front of his face.

"I- sorry. What?"

"Wow, are you awake in there? I was asking what Hera wanted."

"Just to let you know the Manaan mission's a go. They're gonna be taking off in another hour here. You volunteered?"

"Uh-huh. Who knows what it is, but bounty hunting outfits always look a little more legit when they have at least one Mandalorian in them. Since Sabine is off leading our people out of darkness, that leaves me. I may not be the best Mandalorian, but I guess you make do," she said with another shrug.

"Best Mandalorian?" he repeated in confusion.

"Yeah, long story," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Zel! Hey, Zel! You out here?" Ezra's voice suddenly came from around the tumble of rock Wedge himself had come from not too long before. The Jedi student himself appeared not too long after. "Oh, hey guys."

"How'd you find her so quick?" Wedge asked, only a little insulted.

"Oh, y'know. Jedi," he answered with a shrugged grin, but when he opened his eyes and actually took a moment to glance between the two of them, his gaze became a little more questioning. Whatever that question might have been, though, Ezra seemed to answer it for himself when his puzzled expression shifted into a broad smile.

"No fair."

"Can't help you there, Wedge old pal. Did he tell you what's up?" he asked the younger girl.

"Yeah."

"Let's get going then. I'm not sure we're even gonna get the full hour on this one."

The hike back to the landing field was quick, made with light-hearted, joking banter among the three young rebels. By the time they arrived, Hobbie and the twins had already helped Zeb finish loading the Ghost. Hera offered the trio a stern smile when she came down the loading ramp.

"Ezra, Zelina, I hope you two are ready to go, because we launch-"

"Yesterday. Yeah, got it, Hera," Ezra finished.

"Sorry to spring this on you last minute," Hera continued, turning her attention to Wedge.

"Oh, no, I completely get it. You know I'm always down for busting people out of the Empire."

"Think you can keep the drills going like normal? We need to be in top form for Lothal, so I'm counting on you," she told him.

"We'll be ready," he promised her. "You all just be sure to come back alive. Sabine'll kill me if she comes back and finds you guys dead."

"Mm, there are probably worse ways to die," Zelina said with a snicker.

"Yeah, and Sabine Wren could probably come up with about seventy percent of 'em," Ezra put in.

"Hera Syndulla," a new but vaguely familiar voice suddenly cut into the conversation, "I know you weren't about to make a move against Zaniva BioTech without inviting me along."

The small group looked toward the base to see a young woman heading onto the landing field. Wedge had seen Jidu Ailytè only a handful of times before, and the most recent was before her last infiltration run. Her looks had changed considerably since then. She'd gotten thinner, for one. But despite the fact that she already wasn't very tall and there was physically less of her, it didn't make the rebel spy's presence any less commanding. Her long black hair had been shorn off, prominently displaying the Black Sun emblem now tattooed on the right side of her head. The last time he'd seen her, both her almond eyes had been the same deep brown, but now that only applied to the left eye. The right was the distinct swirl of violet and ruby that marked her as having at least some Allurian blood.

"Oh," he started in surprise as he took in the heterochromia. For a moment, she quirked a slanted smile in his direction.

"Something interesting, Wedge?" she asked him.

"Your eyes...that's what they really look like?"

"They're called lenses, Antilles," she said with a chuckle. "Two different colored eyes is a bit too distinct a feature for a spy."

"Perhaps I thought you'd like a bit of a breather," Hera reprimanded mildly. "You did just get in, and I know how hard the Saleucami run was on you. This isn't going to be easy."

"Nothing ever is," she returned, shaking her head. "But I want in on this one. Zaniva was mine. I would very much love to spit in their eye."

"Well, if a Mandalorian's legitimate, Black Sun's got to be even more so," Zelina pointed out, smiling at the other rebel. "Y'know, so much as bounty hunting actually is legit."

Jidu turned her attention to the young Mandalorian with a pleased smile. "I like this one, Hera. Who is she?"

"Zelina Arsane," the young medic introduced herself. "I've only been here a few weeks. You can call me Zel, though, if it's easier."

"Good to know you, Zel. Guess we'll find out if we can work together."

Hera rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "An extra pair of hands certainly can't hurt."

"Awesome. We getting this moveable feast underway then?"

"Haha, just waiting on you, Ji," Hobbie said with a laugh as he and the Syrens exited the Ghost. "Glad you're back."

"For now," the Jedhan said, offering Wedge's fellow pilot a light punch. "Guess we'll have to catch up next time I get back."

Wedge wasn't sure when it had happened, but Hobbie had somehow become fast friends with Jidu in their earliest weeks on Atollon. And while he still found the older woman a little intimidating, Hobbie had somehow risen to the rank of drinking buddy, almost without him noticing.

"And we have even more new faces," Jidu said when she noticed the twins. "Jidu Ailytè. Who are you?"

"Terachor Shylene," the elder twin introduced herself, holding still for a moment, waiting for her sister to continue.

The younger Syren remained silent, though, staring at Jidu. Wedge wasn't particularly adept at reading Syren expressions yet, despite the distinctly human element of their faces. If he had to guess, though, he might say that the way the tiny, delicate feathers that framed her face fluffed outward was...almost like a blush. And Jidu's answering look of interest seemed to confirm that for him.

"I'm- Tsirhara," she finally made herself answer. "Tsirhara Shylene. We have heard your name. It is a pleasure to meet you," she said, clearly regretting her own word choice, as her feathers fluffed out even further.

In response, Jidu reached out to take the Syren's hand, and with the look in her eyes, Wedge half-expected her to kiss that hand. But what she did instead was lower her forehead to rest against the back of the hand, bowing low before the Syren woman in what was likely a gesture from Hara's own people.

"The pleasure, Tsirhara, is mine."

"Thanks, Jidu," Wedge said as he rolled his eyes. "There'll be no flying with her now."

The young spy offered Hara a somewhat less chaste look as she pulled back from her. "Sorry, but I don't think I am sorry."

"Typical Ji," Hera sighed. "But you can flirt when we get back. We're on a schedule right now."

"I'll consider that a promise," Jidu said, not breaking eye contact with the Syren, simply shifting to move backwards onto the Ghost.

"You know, I don't think I've even seen Kanan Jarrus turn on the charm that quickly," Hera said with a small shake of her head.

"Wait. Kanan was a flirt?" Ezra asked her, expression at the tipping point between wanting to know more and the outright shock of realizing that your parents did, in fact, have sex.

"That...is definitely not a story for young ears," Hera reprimanded, shaking herself out of some kind of reverie. "So young ears should be getting aboard ship right about now. Go on. Scoot," she said to Ezra and Zelina, waving them toward the freighter. They both waved to the gaggle of pilots as they boarded.

"I'm not- totally sure what just happened," Wedge admitted.

"Trust me," Hera started with a shake of her head, "with enough time, you'll learn to just go with it."

"That's a relief," Tera said, nodding. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get a bucket of water to dump on my sister's head."

"Don't waste too much. Those H2O scrubbers are overworked as it is," was all the Twi'lek had to say before boarding her ship, leaving the two boys to glance in slight confusion between it and the Syren woman currently dragging her sister from the landing field.

XxX

The first thing he becomes aware of is that he can't move.

The taste of ash and blast residue is heavy on his tongue, tinged with the unsettling copper tang of blood. His first instinct is to call out, but he immediately resists. There might still be hostiles in the area. But- what about the others? Are they all right? What's happening?

His breath catches in his throat when he hears a scream echo through the trees, quickly dying away into a hideous gurgling sound. Hera! That was Hera!

He struggles to turn his head toward the sound, but he can barely even manage that. He thinks he knows what he will see, coming through the smoke and the fire, but he's wrong.

So horribly wrong.

The eyes are red, the figure blue, clothed in that eerily impeccable grand admiral's white.

The first figure the Chiss stops at is barely recognizable, face mangled and bathed in blood. It's more a mercy when the Chiss shoots him through the head.

Kanan.

The Chiss continues on, calmly and silently, to the next of the downed Spectres. Alex can see the blood-stained orange jacket that signifies it's Ezra. When he tries to move, to raise a hand to summon the Force, the grand admiral raises a single booted foot and slams it down on his chest, pinning him to the dirt.

A single shot finishes off the youngest member of Spectre Cell.

He wants to reach out, to help...something...anything! But it's more than being unable to move. It's almost as if he has no body to command – as if he's nothing more than a naked mind gazing on this moment, unable to alter its course in any way.

The Chiss continues his unperturbed trek through the flames toward his next victim. When he comes upon the next Spectre, she's too injured to try to escape. Sabine raises the only hand she has left, pleading.

But the Imperial is not moved. His expression is blank as he sends several rounds of superheated plasma through the girl's chest.

"Kallus?" Zeb's voice suddenly comes to him from he knows not where, shaken and whispering, but still alive.

Zeb? he thinks more than says, but is somehow heard.

"Alex...Kal," the Lasat starts in a tone that speaks of depthless grief, of an anguish that has worn his weary spirit down to the faintest of sparks. "You...you're dead...aren't you."

Yes, he returns, beginning to understand the why of it all. He can't move because there really is no body. He can't speak because there is no breath. He is dead. But really, that doesn't frighten him as much as it should. All he knows is sorrow – a horrible, aching sadness that he has to tell Zeb he will never see him again. I...I'm so sorry...my love...

"He killed you."

Yes.

"I have a shot, Alex," he growls, something in his voice going cold, dying even as he listens to him speak. "I'm takin' it."

Zeb...don't...ni ashkerra. Just go. Get out of here!

"No," he says, voice soft but more certain than he's ever heard it. "He killed you. I can't ...just walk away."

Zeb...I am sorry...that I couldn't stop this...but getting yourself killed is not going to bring me back. Please don't do this!

"I love you," he whispers at the last.

Zeb, NO!

But there's nothing he can do to stop him stepping out from his cover and firing on the Chiss. He's badly injured, unlikely to have escaped, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch him go down.

The grand admiral takes a hit, but it's ultimately Zeb who ends up on his knees with a single plasma burn through his chest, trembling and struggling for breath as he defiantly looks his killer in the eye. The Chiss sneers as he takes aim at him.

"There was never any chance that you could have won. Not truly ," the Chiss says in his eternally even voice.

"Just go to hell... monster, " Zeb snarls.

Giving a final annoyed huff, Thrawn takes the last shot, but then he looks up, past Alex's dead lover, straight at him with those glowing red eyes, even though he knows he doesn't exist anymore.

"There is no future this way, Agent Kallus. Only death. Either your own...or theirs, " the Chiss says with absolute certainty. "You cannot escape it. You will bring them despair. All you can do is destroy."

Kallus' tortured scream carried him into the waking world this time. He knew where he was, but he still couldn't help the several frantic minutes he took to rake his fingers over his own body, confirming its reality – that he was, in fact, not dead.

Once he'd managed to assuage the wild terror of the nightmare, he was left sitting on the small bunk breathing hard, trying to get his trembling under control.

They weren't all that different from his quarters aboard the Lawbringer, these quarters he'd been given for his stay in the Zaniva facility. The small refresher station opposite the bunk was nearly identical to the one he was used to. Faintly, he thought of applying the usual tactic of splashing some water on his face, but was soon dissuaded from the idea when he glanced out the viewport of his room. Instead of a field of stars and void, he was staring at a seeming endless depth of dark blue-green water. He was literally surrounded by water. The notion of splashing it against his face seemed almost silly.

Though the reason for it sickened him, a small part of him was relieved for the quality sound-proofing used in the facility's construction. A scream like that wouldn't have been contained by the walls of a Star Destroyer. He would've drawn attention.

But then, that was the reason for it, wasn't it, he thought bitterly. Were it not for the excellent sound-proofing, the scientists and other personnel would have to listen to the sound of screaming almost constantly.

He had spent the last few days touring the facility with Masaada, learning its ins and outs, getting the colonel up to speed on what it was the rebels were supposedly planning, and how it was he was planning to trap them. It was an intricately woven web, with trap and counter trap all planned out. It was a plot his younger self would have been extremely proud of. Now, though? Now, more and more, he just found himself wishing for it to all be over. He was more than just disgusted over what he'd seen done in this terrible place. He was heartsick – heartsick over what the Empire had done to the Lasat, over how they were justifying their crimes, here and throughout the galaxy, as a means of keeping order. How had he ever let himself be taken in by any of it?

How much longer could he keep this up?

As long as you have to, he scolded himself as he finally rose from the bunk to dress for the day. Giving in now would be weakness, and he was not allowed to be weak.

Not now.

The Spectres would be arriving any day now. Hopefully today or tomorrow. It was better he didn't have the exact date, since it would then appear more that he'd only been able to intercept partial intelligence. And much though he was looking forward to Zeb's arrival, to making an end to this abomination, he also wasn't looking forward to Zeb having to witness this. He knew how it would break his lover's heart. It broke his own heart a little more to strap his bo-rifle to his back. He could both see and feel how the older generation of prisoners looked on him with hate in their eyes. He knew what he must seem to them, and there was no way he could risk revealing the sigil Zeb had carved for him. There wasn't an inch of this place that wasn't under surveillance. Part of him would've preferred to forgo the weapon altogether, but it was part of the performance now – part of the identity he presented to his former colleagues.

One of the Butchers of Lasan.

It was why the nightmares were returning in such full force, he had little doubt. They'd eased their grip on his sleep in the time since Nar Shaddaa, but ever since he'd come to Manaan, they had been getting bad again. If he were honest, he would have to say he probably wasn't going to get any proper rest in this place. It certainly didn't help that he constantly had Kanan's warning to watch himself at the back of his mind. The Jedi had foreseen something happening to him here. If the situation weren't already stressful enough, there was that on top of it all.

Soon, Zeb, he clung to the thought as he headed out into the compound, steeling himself for yet another cycle. This will all be over soon.

XxX

The first step in this insane plan of theirs had been to change out the Ghost for a less recognizable freighter. She was definitely high up on the Imperial Most Wanted list and they just couldn't risk taking her so near to the core. Once transferred to the ancient light freighter that Ezra would neither confirm nor deny may have been procured by Hondo, Hera set them on a course for the Inner Rim before the small force reconvened in the ship's common area.

They were all already decked out in well-concealing bounty hunter gear, prepared to play the part of seedy hunters looking to make a quick payday. Chopper's new coat of paint was much rougher than usual with Sabine not around to handle it, but that thankfully fit with the look they were going for, not the typical Imperial disguise.

"All right," Hera began, looking around at all of them. "Since we have some late additions to the crew, along with some who've just plain never worked with us before, we should probably take the opportunity to go over everything in depth. Ji, are you up to speed on Project Ash Warrior?"

"Yeah. Wish I could say it shocks me, but I couldn't begin to name the despicable things Zaniva's a part of. And that's just what I uncovered in my time there. This is a whole new level of nasty."

"Too right," Zeb growled, the only one of them not dressed in bounty hunter gear. His typical battle suit had been exchanged for a rough-spun laborer's tunic.

"Which is why we're going to bust this operation wide open. Zaniva's compound is located deep beneath Manaan's ocean," Hera began to explain as she pulled up a holo-map of the area. "But of course they couldn't put themselves completely out of reach of the only proper above water city on the planet, so it's not too far from Ahto City. Kanan, Ezra, and Jidu will be making the actual journey to the compound in order to make the exchange," she said, clearly trying to shake away the bad taste in her mouth at having to refer to a member of her own family in such a way. "Once Zeb's on the inside, he'll be able to make contact with his people."

"Kallus hasn't been able to do that?" Jidu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He's onsite by now, but pretty much every inch of this place is bristling with surveillance tech of some kind. We'd all hoped he might get a chance to, but he hasn't been able to risk it so far. All he can do right now is maintain his cover. But he has been able to get us information on numbers and the types of conditioning the subjects have been undergoing. It gives us a better idea of how many ships we'll need to steal."

"Stealing ships?" the young spy started in interest. "Definitely haven't heard this part of the plan."

"We'll come to it. Once you all have made the exchange for Zeb, the plan is for you to return to the surface with the transport. Ezra and Kanan will be remaining behind to set up a distraction."

"The Sabine kind of distraction, I hope?"

Hera laughed quietly as she rolled her eyes. "Getting a bit ahead of yourself there. We're starting off small here. Fouling up the air system a bit maybe. The point is they'll need to call in a technician from the surface to bring in some new parts. That's where you'll come in handy."

"Imperial technician extraordinaire," Jidu said with flair, making a motion of tossing hair she no longer had. "I can do that."

"Good, 'cuz this is where things start getting complicated. Another goal here is to let Kallus capture us. If we get away clean, it's all going to look particularly bad on his end."

"Almost like he'd set the whole thing up or something," Ezra put in with a chuckle.

"Unfortunately, yes. We can't afford to lose Fulcrum now, so he still needs to be where he is. That's why he's going to catch you in an act of sabotage. I trust to your improvisational skills, but you'll have to give up either Ezra or Kanan, just to make it look convincing."

"I don't think I'd have any trouble turning the brat over to the Imps," Jidu teased, beginning to tousle with Ezra.

"Oh, no! Treachery!" Ezra started in mock alarm, blocking the older rebel's playful punches.

"You've had it coming, Ezra. I still haven't paid you back for that time in the canyon."

"Well, you had that coming. In my defense, that was mostly Chop's plan."

"Another time, maybe?" Zeb suggested with a growl, though there was still a small spark of amusement in his eyes.

"Right," Hera continued immediately. "Whoever remains free will finish triggering the distraction. A proper emergency will set off a silent alarm that summons an emergency evacuation craft from Ahto City."

"They don't keep those onsite?" Zelina asked, a small look of shock starting up in her eyes.

"They keep one emergency vehicle onsite for their own people," Kanan explained. "But they didn't want to leave a transport just lying around that the Lasat could use to escape. In a truly desperate situation...do you really think the Empire would care if they lived or died?"

The young Mandalorian sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor. "No."

"Either way, things are going to unravel quickly once the evacuation's been set in motion. While this is all happening, Rex, Zelina, Chop, and I will have been working on getting those extra ships. Kallus has left us some intel on which docks will likely be easiest to break into, so that shouldn't be too difficult. We'll need at least three more transports in order to get all of the prisoners offworld. Think we can handle it?" Hera asked the old captain.

"Trust me, Hera, that'll be the boring part of the job," he said with a nod and a smirk.

"Heh, if only it should be so simple. But if everything goes according to plan, Chopper'll be locking down the bay where the Imperials dock. That'll leave us free to make our escape once we have the Lasat. Without their subjects, Project Ash Warrior will quickly lose traction. The Lasat will be free, we'll have won a victory, and Kallus still gets to keep the facade of a good little ISB agent. Everybody wins."

"Everybody except the Empire, at least. So, like you said, everybody wins," Kanan pointed out with a small grin.

"Zeb," Hera said, her voice becoming a little more gentle as she turned her full focus on the Lasat, "I know- that it won't be easy for you down there. Are you ready for this?"

Zeb drew in a long breath before answering, his expression pensive. "I'm ready to do what I have to, Hera. This isn't gonna be pretty, but...this is all I have to give...for everythin' I couldn't do that day..."

The Twi'lek took in the former guardsman's tense appearance for several moments before moving forward and wrapping her arms around his much larger frame. Zeb accepted the hug with a grateful rumble in his chest.

"It'll be all right. We'll get them out. All of them."

One by one, the other Spectres moved in to join the hug. Kanan came first, arms forming easily around Hera and Zeb, followed soon after by Ezra. Rex and Jidu didn't take long to join in either.

"Come on, kid. Get in here," Rex said to Zelina, waving her in when she was the only one left standing on the outside of the hug. She blinked curiously at them for only a moment before smiling, joining the group hug. Even Chopper got in on it as best he could, bumping up against the little group and earning a pat on the dome from all of them – even Zeb.

"Thanks, guys," the Lasat said softly, his easy rumble moving through all of them. "Nobody ever had a better gang of mates at his back than I do right now. Thank you."

None of them marked how long they stood like that, but one thing was certain by the end of it. They all felt just that little bit better about their near-suicidal venture – that much more ready to take on the whole Empire, regardless of the consequences.

XxX

Zeb was on high alert from the moment they broke out of hyperspace. He was still on the bridge of their junker of a freighter with Hera, Kanan, and Rex when they were contacted by port control.

"FX-0600 light freighter, you are ordered to identify yourself at once. You are entering restricted space," a particularly snippy Imperial voice came over the comm.

"This is FX-0600 light freighter, designation Strike Saber," Kanan responded with more of a growl in his voice than he typically spoke with. "We're here to collect on a bounty."

"There are no bounties here, scum," the controller replied, just as they'd been told he would. "You will have to seek elsewhere."

"Really? Because my information puts the drop point right there on your pretty blue world. After all, cats hate water...or so they say," the Jedi said, and even though he didn't falter on the Imperial slur for a Lasat, Zeb could tell he hated having to use it. He could see the way his friend's shoulders tensed in its delivery.

A disgustingly amused laugh sounded over the comm at this. "Indeed they do," the Imperial voice stated. "Perhaps we may yet do business, Strike Saber. Permission granted for docking bay 62. Proceed."

"Proceeding," Hera answered this time.

"Well, this is where the fun begins," Rex ground out before pulling on a helmet to conceal his cloned features. If anyone in the galaxy might recognize him offhand, it would be a gaggle of Imperial scientists.

"Ready to go, big guy?" Kanan asked as he moved back to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get this over with," Zeb growled, moving with the Jedi down to the cargo bay, where the younger rebels were all waiting. Ezra was decked out in a few simple pieces of armor Sabine had decorated for him, while Zelina was in her own Mando gear. Jidu's armor was a bit more of a mishmash. It would've been better for her to wear a helmet, given her past with Zaniva, but it was also helpful to display her Black Sun mark. Fewer questions that way. So her only piece of concealing gear was an eyepatch covering her left eye, effectively erasing the previous identity she'd used and placing a label on herself that would say only 'Allurian' as far as the Imperials were concerned.

Ezra removed his helmet as they approached, looking somewhat hesitant, and when he produced a pair of binders, Zeb understood why.

"I wanna find this funny, man, but...you gonna be okay?"

Zeb nodded once before handing his bo-rifle over to Kanan, who reverently placed the weapon on his back. "Guard that with your life, Kanan."

"Nothing less than."

"Good. Do it," he said to Ezra as he placed his hands behind his back. The young Jedi nodded before coming around to snap the binders in place. Zeb had to fight the urge to flinch when he heard and felt them lock.

"Docking now," Hera's voice came over the comm system. "Hope you guys are ready for the inspection team."

"Ready and waiting," Kanan said. Instead of his usual, distinctive mask, his blindness was concealed by a simple visor. "Zelina, I need you to be my eyes in the sky. Make sure nobody tries anything."

"Right," she said, quickly scrambling up to one of the catwalks surrounding the bay area and keeping a blaster casually trained on the space. When Zeb moved to his knees and Ezra and Jidu moved in to cover him with their own blasters, it was all a perfect tableau of illegal legitimacy for the Imperial inspection team that entered the bay – a supply officer and two stormtroopers.

"A new crew," the officer noted as she looked around at all of them. "I confess myself surprised Kuross would let such a prime specimen as this slip through his fingers," she finished, eying Zeb up and down at the last in a way that made him want to wash his fur.

"Maybe your star pupil's losing his touch," Kanan said in a casually arrogant tone. "Giren and I go way back and there was no way he was up to this challenge. Nobody but my boys could've caught this claw fish."

"Heheh, Archrem will be pleased with this one indeed," the officer continued as she walked a circle around them. Zeb felt the fur at the back of his neck rise unpleasantly when she ran a hand along his shoulders. The only defiant response he allowed himself was a low warning growl.

"Bad dog!" one of the stormtroopers snapped, dealing him a harsh blow to the side of the head with the butt of his blaster. Zeb went down with a strangled grunt of pain.

"Careful, TK-588. Wouldn't want to damage the merchandise prematurely after all," the officer scolded mildly. "Everything seems to be in order, though. I believe we can take you below," she finished, jerking her head back toward the bay entrance to indicate they ought to follow her.

"On your feet," Ezra snapped at him, disguising a move to help him up as a shove to his side. Zeb growled again as he got to his feet, but begrudgingly fell into step behind the officer.

The Lasat found himself marched from the ship and out into a docking bay, but before they could proceed a step further, another trooper approached them with a strange device in hand.

"What in the hells is that thing?" Jidu asked with a distasteful look.

"Sens-dep helmet," the trooper responded.

"What? You think we can't keep control of our own prisoner?" Kanan demanded sharply, conveying insult rather than the worry Zeb didn't doubt he was feeling.

"Oh, it has nothing to do with you; I assure you," the officer told him. "It's to keep the kitten from knowing too much about his new home before he gets there. Standard operating procedure for Zaniva. Honestly, I wish our Empire would make more use of them."

Zeb couldn't wholly help the step back he took when the trooper approached him again, the fear response not in any way faked. But before he could retreat further, he found himself up against the barrel of a blaster.

"Make a move, you," Jidu's voice came from behind him, firming up his resolve. The words were harsh, but the tone was soothing in that strange way the young Jedhan had. Retreating no further, Zeb only growled as the trooper closed the final distance to lock the helmet on his head.

Immediately, he was plunged into darkness and silence. What little air he'd been able to feel on his face was snatched away in an instant and, worst of all for him, his sense of smell was lost. So far as he could perceive, he was alone in an endless void, save for the feel of the blaster still pressed against his back, which he now clung to with hyper-intensity. He focused on that feeling and the reality of it with a desperation he'd never quite known, needing it to guide him forward, and knowing it was the only point of contact, of comfort, his friends could offer him.

Just keep goin'. You'll get through.

The time between being shoved in the helmet and suddenly being forced to his knees was agonizingly long, and he didn't imagine it was over yet. They would still need to be transported down to the actual facility, and who knew how long that would take? He couldn't help flinching when he felt the press of another blaster against the back of his left shoulder, a little more hesitant than Jidu's, but gradually firming up, likely to let him know it wasn't one of the Imperials.

Ezra.

If that first stretch of time had felt long, trapped in a constant state of nothing, then this most recent stretch actually did seem endless. Desperate to feel something, his nerves sought out the cold seeping in through his fur in a way they usually wouldn't, leaving him feeling horribly, miserably cold. They'd forgotten about him, hadn't they. They were going to leave him here, trapped in silent darkness forever.

Oh, stars, oh, Ashla! I can't do this! I can't-

And then, just when he really thought he might go mad, he felt the brush of something unfamiliar against his thoughts, almost like a warm nudge.

You're not alone, that strange press seemed to say. We're here with you.

Kanan?

Well, if that was something his friend could do with his Force, probably it wasn't such a bad thing. The gentle touch kept him grounded, kept him sane, reminded him to breathe when he almost had no way to know if he still could. He had no way of knowing how long he was like that, but he almost couldn't manage it when he was pushed to his feet again. It didn't seem like much distance before he was on his knees again.

When the helmet was jerked free, the sudden sensory input was violent and harsh. He cried out in pain as he squeezed his eyes shut, even the dim light of the new space much too bright for his more than human eyes. The simple feel of the air against his skin again was like a thousand tiny pinpricks, and the rush of it in his ears was like the roar of a gale force wind. The scents of salt and metal and disinfectant were like assaults on his now much too sensitive nose. It was too much. It was all too much! He was going to lose it! This was-

"Ah, a very fine-looking specimen is this one," a deep, grating voice suddenly lanced into his awareness, pushing past the cacophony of noise in his ears. A slender, but deceptively strong hand gripped his jaw and forced his head back. It was everything he could do not to try to bite that hand.

"I assume he will do you well, Doctor," yet another unfamiliar voice came to him, female this time.

"Oh, very well, I have little doubt. A strong neck, excellent musculature and a well-defined jawline...a sure sign of good breeding among them." Then that hand was forcing his mouth open and fingers were reaching inside to examine his teeth. From where that hand gripped him, he could actually feel its owner shiver. "These fangs...truly magnificent. I would hazard a guess there is even some noble blood in this one's background."

All right, this he was not going to take. Snarling, he attempted to bite the fingers in his mouth, but the scientist was just a little too quick for his overwhelmed reflexes.

"Oooh," the hand's owner shuddered with some sort of sick delight. "Such a beast. I like this one. Wherever did you come across such prime stock, Captain?"

"You'd be surprised what you can find hiding under the rocks on Dantooine," Kanan's strained voice came to him, and because he knew the Jedi, he understood the masked tone of anger in his voice, but anyone else would likely take it as anger over the trouble of capturing Zeb. "Sure hope this one was worth the trouble it cost us."

"I can almost guarantee you he shall be. I'm half-tempted to skip processing and simply use him to inseminate my next group of females."

Zeb could've physically choked on the horror and shock he felt rising in his throat at those words. He knew – of course he knew. Kallus had told him what was being done in this place and he'd been trying to steel himself for it, but to hear it – so outright like that...barely managing to wrench his still-sensitive eyes open, he looked up to find a fairly tall human standing over him. Still short by Lasat standards, but he looked to be only a little shorter than Kallus by Zeb's reckoning. His skin was pale. Not in the way Kal's was; more that it lacked for something. His features were sharp and narrow, framed by long black hair that was pulled back from his face. The eyes that looked out from that face were cold and gray, and they stared down a long nose at Zeb in a way that made him feel like he really was nothing more than a laboratory specimen.

The lead scientist Kallus had told them about. Garst Archrem

He honestly might've tried to jump the scientist then and there had Kanan not come to his rescue.

"Ugh, really? You gotta talk about that right now?" the knight asked in put-upon disgust. "I just ate. Besides, some of us are looking to get paid here. I hear this bruiser's worth a small fortune."

"A shame you are not more of an intellectual, Captain. Kuross is always interested in the science of it."

"I'll just bet he is," Kanan snarled softly.

"But he has not steered you wrong in this case. The going rate, of course. I'd be prepared to offer you a percentage on top of that, but the subject's...viability would need to be proven first."

Zeb shuddered in revulsion at the implication, grateful when Kanan snapped back with, "And how long does that take? I like a bonus just as much as the next scoundrel, but we've got a schedule to keep here."

"Not long at all, really. It's a simple matter of an ejaculate sample," the scientist said, starting to reach a hand out for Zeb's neck, which the Lasat involuntarily pulled back from. If he had to suffer such an indignity twice in only a month...

"Oh, kriffing hells, forget that," Kanan ground out. When Zeb noticed the doctor's hand slide sharply to the side, he had to wonder if maybe the Force wasn't involved in some way. "So don't have time for your xeno-husbandry. Besides, I can do you one better. More than simple breeding stock."

The scientist quirked an eyebrow upward in interest. "All right, you have my attention. What is it that you think is of more value to me than this subject's exemplary genetic material?"

"This one was High Honor Guard. Giren might've mentioned there'd be top credit in it for any son of a gundark that could bring a live one of those in. It isn't just the genetics you want, is it. It's them. Their warrior culture. Only fully trained guardsmen can give you that."

"And we're supposed to just trust your word that this one was High Honor Guard?" the female voice Zeb had heard before asked. When he sought out its source, he found it was a figure he recognized. Older and with graying hair, but he did still know Schader Masaada. He had seen her that day.

"What? The finely crafted weapon strapped to my back isn't proof enough?" the Jedi knight spat out.

"Well...there is one method of identification I believe may satisfy all parties," the scientist said with a look that left Zeb's heart to drop into his stomach. There were only so many times Kanan could refuse to let them...milk him...without starting to look suspicious.

"Man, I told you already, I really don't need to see tha-"

"Not that," the scientist interrupted him before directing a sharp gaze to one of the stormtroopers. "Show me his back."

Zeb didn't have much time to wonder how they planned to do that before a trooper moved in behind him and ripped open the rough fabric at his back, baring his fur to the cold, recycled air of the facility. He struggled briefly when the scientist moved around behind him, but the troopers had a hold of him now. It was all he could do not to forget the plan altogether when he felt the human run clinical, uncaring fingers over his back and shoulders.

"Do you see, Captain? Just here," the man began to explain, fingers examining certain stripes in Zeb's fur. "The pattern of stripes is distinct. Not as individually distinct as a human fingerprint, of course, but distinct enough that lineage may be read within the lines. This one...yes...he is a son of the House of Orrelios. Unquestionably good stock, worth at least the ten percent bonus, and of course there would be little doubt he was a true guardsman. The House of Orrelios produced many of them. So which branch are you?" he asked, speaking to Zeb for the first time in all of this, even though he didn't come back around to look him in the eye. "Talarann? Or perhaps you are one of Bennali's?" he suggested, fingers briefly digging into Zeb's fur. "Oh, I hope you are one of hers. I would give much to have Bennali Orrelios' lineage in this pool."

That did it.

"You say one more word about my gran," Zeb began dangerously, "and I'll bite those kriffing Imperial fingers right the kriff off!" he snarled in rage, attempting to break free of the troopers that held him. He shoved one of them across the room, but before he could get to another, he felt the stinging current of an electro-jabber as the weapon connected with his back. The pain was sharp and instant, causing him to cry out. The current of electricity was powerful enough to drop him completely, leaving him twitching in helpless agony on the floor.

"Mighty Bennali indeed," the human's voice was suddenly whispering in his ear, its owner bent down close to him. "The galaxy has given me an Orrelios. I will see that lovely seed in the womb of every female I have."

He would've torn the man's head off then and there. He would have, plan be damned, but that he was now weak as a loth kitten from the punishing electrical current still wreaking havoc on his system. That and, even if he wouldn't fully admit it, he was still in shock from his stint in sensory deprivation. At the moment, lacking the ability to kill this monster, all he wanted was for everything to just stop.

If there was more said, he didn't hear it. He couldn't focus on any one thing except the feeling of being dragged from the room. By the time he was thrown into a cell, he was blissfully, mercifully unconscious.

XxX

Kanan was little better than Zeb in wishing they could kriff the kriffing plan altogether.

He would've liked to bury his lightsaber in Archrem's face, rather than endure the smugness coming off him in waves as Zeb was hauled away.

He would've liked to shatter the credit disk beneath his boot, rather than feel such blood money burn against the palm of his hand as he pocketed it.

He would've liked to tell the man exactly where he could stick it when he told them to go and enjoy the "wonders" of Ahto City.

But if he lost his control now, the entire operation would be lost. It would mean that Zeb was going through all this, that he had suffered at their hands, all for nothing. He couldn't let Zeb's pain be for nothing.

Even so, even with all this in his heart, it was all he could do to follow their escort back to the surface transport, to use the Force to convince their minds that they'd only brought one bounty hunter down from Ahto City, and to hide with Ezra and observe Jidu boarding the craft with the Imperials. It wasn't until they were some distance away that both of them let out the breaths they'd been holding.

"Kanan," Ezra started with a small quaver in his voice, the helpless anger and despair the knight had felt boiling at the surface of his padawan's thoughts beginning to spill out. "Zeb...they-"

"I know," Kanan soothed, reaching a hand across to rest it on his shoulder. "I know. But we're gonna get him out of here. We're gonna get them all out." Because no matter the practicality or impracticality of it, he just couldn't stand the thought of leaving even one innocent person trapped in this terrible place.

"Why would they just- why do they need to..." Ezra tried several times, struggling to give voice to what it was he wanted to ask. "Aren't there less...hands on methods for doing all this- breeding stuff?"

"There are. More efficient methods, too. Back in the day, the Republic had programs to aide planetary populations struggling with dwindling numbers. But this...I suspect it's done to deprive the Lasat of their pride...make them feel like they aren't anything more than tools of the Empire. Years and years of this kind of treatment...it's bound to wear them down. After all, if you get treated like a dumb animal long enough, that's what you'll become," he said, an unpleasant, unwanted memory of Zeb as he'd first known him swimming to the surface of his thoughts – the Lasat, beaten and broken down, luminous eyes dull and lifeless as he received yet another shock from the electro-collar he was locked into. It was a memory he didn't care to have repeated ever again. So they were just going to have to blow this place literally out of the water. "Now let's get moving. Kallus should've cleared us a path through security feeds by now. We've got a day or so of work to do and only a few hours to do it in."

XxX

There had been times when Zeb had felt better upon regaining consciousness, but then there were also times he'd felt worse, so he wasn't exactly about to start complaining. His wrung-out muscles told him just how much on the receiving end of the electro-jabber he'd been. It was pain he was familiar with, though, and he would recover from it. What he could do without was the tapping sensation he was feeling at his right shoulder. He groaned as he slowly forced his eyes open, only to be met with a pair of wide green eyes that seemed only a little smaller than his own.

He jerked into a sitting position, startling the little one back from him. The boy yelped and scuttled back until he hit the cell wall.

"H- hey there," Zeb started hesitantly, not really sure what else to say.

"Kestry, what did I say?" a familiar voice scolded. "Give him some room to adjust."

"No way," Zeb whispered in shock as he looked to the cell entrance, which was no longer laser-sealed. When the voice's owner came into view, Zeb was presented with a face he'd thought he would never see again in life. "Zekaru Talbenna."

Once the other Lasat got a good look at his face, all he could seem to do was stare at him in shocked amazement.

"Captain?"

Then Zekaru was on his knees beside him, pulling him into a tight hug, which Zeb found himself returning without hesitation.

"Zeb! Garazeb Orrelios! Ashla damn your eyes! I thought you were dead," the taller Lasat all but cried into his shoulder.

"Same, Kar," he returned, feeling the same well of emotion boiling up inside him as he embraced his fellow guard. "I thought the same thing."

"What happened to you?" his former second-in-command asked as he pulled back to have another good look at his face. "How did you escape?"

Zeb shrugged. "Gran got a handful of us out after that last explosion. Years haven't exactly been kind. I'm all that's left of that group. Guess I don't have to ask how you survived," he said, glancing around the small cell.

Kar's expression went grim at this, his gaze falling to the floor. "No. I've been here...all this time. If you remember...I headed the detachment you sent to try and rescue the children after the creche was breached. We couldn't stop them. Alreitha and I were taken. The rest were killed," he recounted, briefly gripping at his own arms.

"Alreitha's here?" Zeb pressed. Another trusted member of the Guard. The more of them that were here, the easier it would be to facilitate this whole plan. "How many? How many other guards?"

"Before you arrived, five of us from the High Guard, and several more from the Low Guard. For their- breeding stock, they prefer members of the Guard," he said, voice full of disgust and old hate as he looked down at his hands.

"Papa?" the little boy suddenly asked in a small voice. "What- what are those funny sounds?"

Hearing the child speak Basic was jarring. It had happened so easily, Zeb hadn't actually noticed that they'd slipped from Basic back into Lasana until it was pointed out.

"It's the language of my people, Kes'aki...of our people," he said, holding his hand out to the child. "Come here. Come and meet Papa's dear friend."

The boy slowly crawled over to them, and once he was safely tucked against his father's side, he peeked shyly up at Zeb. For a moment, all the former captain could manage to do was glance between the former guard and his son.

"You don't speak Lasana with the little ones?" Zeb asked with a twinge of horrified sorrow.

"It's forbidden. They want these children to have their warrior heritage and nothing else. All other aspects of our culture are stripped away. Zeb...do you know what this place is?"

"I've got an idea," he said quietly, glancing around the cell again. In the process, he couldn't help but notice that his clothes had been exchanged for the same type of gray prison jumpsuit Kar and Kestry were wearing. Which meant they had stripped him some time while he was unconscious. Sleemos.

Pulling himself back from the thoughts, he turned his focus back to his friend, shifting to Lasana before continuing.

"Do they understand any Lasana? The scientists?"

"For the most part, no. We've tried not to give them reason to want to understand it...so we have something that's still our own, even if we can't share it with our children," he said, gently stroking the top of his son's head. "But- how do you know what this place is? None of the other new ones who were brought in had any idea where they'd been brought."

"We've got a guy on the inside," Zeb answered. Much as he wanted to, he was not going to risk identifying Alex in any way. Just in case this didn't work, in case anything went wrong, he was going to see that his Tinsana remained safe. Kallus' identity as Fulcrum had to be protected – at any cost. "An alliance has been forming in the years since Lasan fell. I'm a part of that rebellion. What would you say if I told you I was sent in here to get you all out?"

For a moment, Kar's gaze sharpened and his hold on his young son tightened. Then he shuddered as he closed his eyes.

"Not all that long ago, I would've said it was impossible. But now you show up here like some miracle. Heh, typical Orrelios. Is this rebellion of yours prepared for just how many of us there are?" he asked as he looked back up at Zeb.

"We've got the numbers. Everything's been planned out. I just need to make sure everyone can be ready for when the time is right."

"If you'd been anyone else, I would've said you were crazy," Kar said with a small, pained laugh. "You're going to have to let me get the others used to the idea."

"Be just like old times, yeah?" Zeb said, reaching out to grip his old friend's shoulder.

A small smirk showed through the years of anguish and despair that had worn the other Lasat down. "If by 'just like old times', you mean you doing something crazy and me convincing literally everyone else that you actually know what you're doing...then yes. Just like old times."

"Garazeb?" a new, just as shocked, just as familiar voice suddenly joined in the conversation. "Garazeb Orrelios?"

When Zeb looked to the entrance this time, it was to the sight of a woman he knew, though she was difficult to recognize through the weight of the years. Alreitha Rivani had once been a renowned warrior among his guards, unmatched in her deadly beauty. But years of captivity and childbearing had worn her down. Her once proud shoulders were hunched, held close to her center in some sort of futile attempt to protect herself. Her hair was long and unkempt, a strand of it clutched tightly in the hand of a tiny kit, not quite Arkalia's age, but no newborn either. Worse still was the sight that she was clearly expecting another child, the swell of her pregnant belly already visible beneath her prison uniform. All of this was compounded by the fact that Zeb knew Alreitha had once had a Bondmate – a lovely court singer who had been even more renowned for her beauty than Reith herself had been...a woman Zeb had watched die in the arms of her beloved the day Lasan fell. To see graceful, powerful Reith like this – reduced to nothing more than an incubator, forced to share her body with men – it tore at something in the former captain's heart.

"Reith," he started, voice already thick with sorrow even as he offered her a smile, rising to his feet to embrace her. She gripped him tightly with her one arm, the other still curled protectively around the kit she held. When they separated, she looked up at him, smiling sadly as she shook her head.

"Should've known they couldn't kill you...Zeb'aki'a."

"Heh, didn't think I'd ever hear anybody call me that again."

"Without Ash around, somebody's got to keep your head from getting too large."

"You'll try."

"It's all right," Reith called back into the corridor when the sound of skittering hands and feet reached their ears. "He's a friend."

Several tiny faces peered around the entryway at her words, looking curiously in at the new grownup.

"You'll have to excuse them," Reith said with a sigh and another shake of her head. "We don't get new people very often now."

"No, that's- fine. They're not- all yours, are they?" Zeb couldn't manage to stop himself from asking.

"No, but we all care for each other in here. Sometimes it's better not to remember who actually belongs to who. Even Ajyrial here's not actually mine," she said, dandling the little kit at her breast. "Her mother died- to give her life. Among this particular band of troublemakers...only Kestry is mine."

At this, Zeb glanced between his two friends in quiet horror. Kar and Reith had always been partners, that much was true, but to force them into this...it was an insult to their friendship, to the Bond Reith had once shared.

"Don't pity us, Captain," Kar said as he got to his feet with Kestry still in his arms, a little more formal now. "It's...better...to have someone you know...someone you trust. What's worse is to have to see the pairs who were complete strangers...that the Imperials just threw into a cell together and forced to rut like a pair of animals," he growled. "Reith and I can still respect each other, at least."

"Aren't you going to bring him out?" one of the older children suddenly asked. "The cycle won't last forever. Everyone's going to want to meet him."

"Of course, of course," Reith said with a small, indulgent laugh as she switched back to Basic for the kits. Worn down as she was, she was still clearly a figure of authority. Nodding back in the direction she'd come from, she began to move out into the corridor.

"So they don't- keep you in cells all the time?" Zeb asked as he and Kar fell into step beside her, the gaggle of children forming a cluster around them as they moved.

"For the most part, they do. But we are allowed community time once a cycle. A chance to pass on the warrior psyche these people are so terribly fond of," Reith bit out as she walked, a slightly more regal air settling about her hunched shoulders. "Still...it's one of the few things we have to look forward to in this place."

While they walked, Zeb had the chance to fill the two in on everything that had happened and was yet to happen. As they moved through the corridors, more and more Lasat joined them, until a small wave seemed to be moving around them, entering a large communal space. And much though it soothed some long-held ache in Zeb's heart not to be the only purple face in a sea of human faces, it also pained him to know what his people – his friends – were being used for.

The ages of the Lasat gathered in the common area ran the gamut from tiny, fluffy newborns to just a few years older than him. Of course they wouldn't keep anyone who was much older locked up here. They were only interested in reproductively viable Lasat. Reith and Kar brought him to the other three former guards the facility was holding – one of the females he knew, Shantiri Valgayos, and a younger male and female he was less certain of. The boy, Arabyr Devon, he knew had been inducted into the High Guard just before the siege, but he did remember that the younger male had fought bravely during the battle. The girl, Envashtyr Tormalius, he vaguely recalled had been on some sort of probation at the time. She had been away from the capital undergoing spiritual counseling for excessive use of force in combat. Where she stood now, who could say? But Zeb didn't doubt he could trust her to keep herself in check for the sake of the tiny kit clinging to her breast, eyes still unopened.

And if Zeb had had any doubts they were under total surveillance, those were laid to rest when some sort of overhead announcement sounded in the community space.

"By now, I imagine you are all well aware of the fact that a new subject has joined our project," Archrem's snide voice sounded overhead. "His samples have tested extremely well in all categories, so we shall begin using him immediately."

Zeb felt his innards sink all over again at the human's words. His samples? That could only mean that they'd also...taken those samples...while he'd been passed out. They had...actually...

Oh, Ashla...

If he'd actually eaten anything today, he would've thrown it all up by now with the sick feeling of revulsion clawing at his stomach.

Those... beasts.

"I hope all of you in Group Cresh have had the chance to look at Subject Aurek 224, as he will be the father of your children. Feel free to get to know him more intimately before the official impregnations begin. The usual exemptions will apply to any who take initiative in this matter. To such ends, your community time shall be extended an extra two hours tonight. Have a pleasant evening, children of Lasan."

"Karabast," Zeb snarled, feeling his entire frame vibrate with rage and disgust. "When I get outta here, I'm gonna tear that Imp's head off myself."

"Threaten later," Shantiri warned him as she began to glance warily around the room. "For now, Captain, you may want to think about choosing a few of the women to bed before the lot of them jump you."

"What?" Zeb demanded, following Tiri's gaze and seeing that several of the women were now eying him with a little more intent now that some sort of open season seemed to have been declared. Even a few of the younger ones who didn't quite look old enough to be mating were looking to him with a kind of desperation in their eyes. "What was he talkin' about? What exemptions?"

"They'll sometimes allow us to- engage with each other...of our own choosing," Arabyr began to explain, shuddering at some unpleasant memory. "Some would prefer even that small illusion of choice over no choice at all...would prefer to do it here among our own people and not in a cell, being watched by Imperial scientists."

"Any woman who takes your seed to her belly tonight will not be made to do so again this round," Tiri continued, her own interest in the notion showing through in spite of her respect for him. "For many, even one reprieve from exhibition is worth everything," she said, not wholly able to help herself when she stretched her wrist toward him, brushing it gently along his hip in the hope of wakening him to her.

Zeb didn't jerk back from her like he wanted to. He knew she couldn't help it. This was her life now. It was the only way to get by. Even without anything in his stomach, he honestly feared he might be sick. But he didn't let his horror show. Instead, he took her hand, pushing it unerringly away from his body.

"Tiri'ka...orra," he said, gently but firmly, continuing in Lasana. "That's not happening. It's never gonna happen to any of you, ever again."

A flash of long-burning anguish sparked behind the guardswoman's eyes at that, though she did respect his command. A few tears slid from her eyes as she asked him, "And how do you imagine that's going to happen?"

"Because we're getting out of here. All of us."

The whispers immediately began to spread among those who had understood him. For those who hadn't, all of the younger ones, Kar called out in Basic, "Come sit, everyone. I want to tell you a story about Captain Garazeb Orrelios."

"The queen's knight?" one of the little girls squealed in excitement.

"The royal guardian!" one of the boys cheered. Apparently the other guards had told stories about him before.

"Yes. I'm going to tell you about a time when he was still just a cadet and he saved Princess Zorahan and his entire unit."

"Got yourselves a bit of a folk hero?" Zeb quietly asked Tiri in Lasana as many of the others moved to gather around Kar.

"Well...you know how it is," she said with a shrug. "You need the stories. You need them to get by."

"Only hope I can live up to what you all've been telling these scamps."

"If anyone could, it would be you," she said, visibly resisting the urge to reach out and touch him again. But even with his earlier pronouncement, many of the women looked like they were still more interested in the actual Captain Orrelios than in just hearing a story about him. "Though...we are still under surveillance. If only to satisfy them...and to keep these other kath hounds at bay...you may want to at least fake making a choice."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye for a long moment before speaking up again. "I can fake it if you think it'll help, Tiri, but I'm not doin' more than that. My heart is bound. I have a Bond, and I won't betray that Bond."

"I understand," she returned as she took his hand in hers. "It's easy enough- to appear to be doing something. Especially if, as you say, I won't be subjected to a scan afterward."

"Never again," he promised her as she led him away from the gathering, toward an out of the way corner of the area that had clearly been set up for this sort of thing – a few chairs and a ratty old blanket. Pushing him into one of the chairs with a need that was only partly faked, she quickly grabbed the blanket and pulled it over them as she settled herself on his lap. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of Kar telling his story.

"But the young guard knew better. He knew exactly what sort of dangers were awaiting the princess."

"This is starting to sound a lot more epic than I remember," Zeb said with a chuckle, helping Tiri to move subtly against him, creating the illusion of more activity than was actually happening. "More stumbled into a plot was what I did."

"It isn't just that, Captain," she returned, smiling against him. "There's a code to it. We have to be able to speak to each other even when we can't speak Lasana. He's telling everyone what's happening."

They didn't speak much as they continued their performance, giving Tiri the opportunity to listen in on Kar's tale of Zeb's thrilling heroics. She was obviously taking more meaning from it than Zeb himself was, because when Kar came to a bit about him taking on an entire force single-handedly, he thought he saw tears in her eyes.

"Hey?" he started, pulling her tightly against him to simulate their peak. "You okay?"

"As I can be. Just remembering how my parents were always saying the queen made a good choice with you...even when so many others doubted her. To survive what you have...all alone-"

"I wasn't alone," he said quietly as he held her, hoping to give her just this simple bit of intimate contact that wasn't putting any other demands on her. "They're a ragtag bunch, but I've had my friends with me. They're my family. They always come through."

"Still...to even think you were alone...that you might be the last of us...you are braver than I am, Captain. Especially to willingly walk in here. I only hope this plan succeeds."

"It will," Zeb soothed as he held his friend and fellow guard.

It has to.

"So the next time you find yourself facing such a situation, remember Garazeb Orrelios," Kar started to wrap up his little tale. "The galaxy may be insane, the beings in it even more so, and you may have to be insane right along with them all, but most of all I want you to understand that you have the power to do what you know is right, even if nobody else will help you."

Zeb didn't need to know their code to take the meaning of those words. They would do their best to rise up, but they were counting on him. His people were counting on him and his friends to come through.

I let you all down before. I failed you. I'm not gonna fail you again.

XxX

Jidu had been in her element slipping into the role of Imperial tech. It hadn't been at all difficult to get the uniform and scan docs from the tech who had actually been called. The most important thing she retrieved from the man, though, was his technician's override code. When things got hot, as they almost inevitably seemed to, that code would open doors that might otherwise remain closed. This allowed her to work at her saboteur's leisure as she went about further fowling up what Ezra and Kanan had begun before her arrival.

Everything was going according to plan – and wasn't it an interesting commentary on the state of affairs when you could say that the sudden feel of a bo-rifle bayonet pressing against your back was all part of the plan.

"Don't move...rebel."

Chapter Text

As a fully trained espionage agent, Kallus' chief goal upon entering the Zaniva compound had been destabilization – to quietly prepare the research facility for a quick collapse. He was always gathering information, of course – data on what had been done to the Lasat prisoners and what could be done to help them recover – but his immediate interest was in bringing Project Ash Warrior down. Therefore, once he understood their operation, his first step had been to introduce bugs to the system.

They were little glitches in the massive mechanism that kept the compound running – tiny data collection errors, blips in security and surveillance. Not anything to raise suspicion or alarm, just enough to put people on edge, to get scientists testy with each other and maintenance personnel overwrought. The method he had learned well from the ISB was death from a thousand small cuts, rather than large, mortal injuries. The process was slower, but just as efficient as open attack, if not more so.

His main focus had been surveillance on the common area. First, because he knew it would be where the Spectres hatched their plot from, and second, it allowed the prisoners a little more privacy than they were typically afforded, even if they didn't know it. From the moment he'd seen how some of the techs would gather to watch the prisoners mate – like it was all some dirty holo put on for their amusement – he'd known he couldn't let it continue, even for his act as the Lasat-hating ISB agent. When all these people were trying to do was scratch out the tiniest modicum of dignity for themselves, and their jailers were so blatantly spitting in their faces by treating them like nothing more than spectacle – no. He couldn't just stand by and watch that happen.

So those same techs suddenly found the security feed from the common area cutting in and out. Again, not enough to rouse suspicion, just enough to annoy them out of attempting to watch the sessions as closely as they had done.

Another, more personal goal in all of this had been a desire to see if he could identify Arkalia's parents, to learn for certain if they had escaped from this facility. Though the thought set something in his stomach to clenching unpleasantly...maybe the little kit still had family in this place. Family who might want her back...

But that unpleasant clenching was replaced with a deep ache when he finally did come across the picture of the young Lasat woman he had seen for the first and last time in that burnt out enclave on Alluria. He would never be able to forget her face, even if he tried – the woman who had given their precious Lia life.

Although...girl might be more accurate than woman from what he was reading in her file. Twenty-two. She had been only twenty-two years old when she died, only twenty-two when she'd given birth to Arkalia. For a Lasat, it was the human equivalent of a fourteen-year-old giving birth. And along with her face came the faces of the other three Lasat he'd seen that day – the man he'd fought outside the burning dwelling and the two he had found dead inside of it. Those two he might have had trouble identifying, but that he'd remembered that one of them had been missing an ear, and finding that image had led him to the last one.

Subject Aurek 177: Chardan Sorril – a former guardsman.

Subject Zerek 232: Kazari Vison – the one with only one ear. Arkalia's father.

Subject Nen 101: Orvazad Zekala – a former royal advisor. The man he'd fought.

Subject Aurek 005: Arekaya Selvarrio – Arkalia's mother.

"Something interests you, Agent Kallus?" Garst Archrem's voice was suddenly burrowing its way into Kallus' awareness. The agent took a step back from the holoscreen he'd been working at, glancing over to find the scientist perusing the files he'd been going through.

"These four," he started, keeping his tone even as he swept a hand across the four displayed files. "I've seen them before."

"You have?" Archrem pressed in sudden interest. "Do you know where they are now? I would be most interested in retrieving them. The female especially. She was pregnant when they escaped."

"By now, I would guess they are dust on the winds of Alluria. It was several months back. These four had become part of an insurgent enclave active on the planet. They were killed when a detachment raided the settlement," he explained, looking away from the scientist as he spoke, not wanting to risk being unable to keep up his vaguely disinterested expression.

"A few months? The child then. What of the child? It would've been born by then," Archrem continued with an unsettling hunger in his voice. "If there is even the slightest possibility that child is still alive-"

"The child is not still alive," Kallus responded firmly, the words practically blistering on his tongue as he spoke them. Lie though they were, even the thought of Arkalia not being alive...of her tiny, lifeless body cradled against her mother's breast in death...it made his heart clench violently in protest. Even so, this lie just might save her life. "They were all killed in the raid."

"Oh...I'm so sorry to hear that," the scientist said with a shake of his head, even his put-upon sympathy sickening Kallus to the core. "We had such high hopes for Aurek 005's offspring."

"My apologies," Kallus said, barely managing to bite back his disgust. "Had I known they were Ash Warrior subjects, I might've been able to bring the girl and the older one back. But there was no warrant out for any of them that I'd been able to discover."

The scientist snickered at that one. "No. There wouldn't have been. Above all things, this project is not on record. Like this facility, it does not exist. Which makes recapture of wayward subjects difficult, I grant, but this was certainly no fault of yours."

"Why the interest in this particular subject?" Kallus forced himself to continue the conversation, even though he knew. He recognized the name Selvarrio after all.

"Aurek 005 was the last living vessel of Lasat royal blood, spared from the execution of her family at my request. I was most eager to be able to experiment with those genetics. It was a real stir around the office when the impregnation with Zerek 232 was a success."

"Was it?" Kallus barely managed to force himself to choke out. "I would be almost surprised if the girl had yet been reproductively viable."

"Lasat menarche is twenty years of age on average. We begin breeding the females at nineteen just to be certain we don't miss any opportunities. Several of them have become healthy mothers with healthy offspring even before twenty. We began breeding Aurek 005 at nineteen with the rest of her age mates, but she hadn't yet become pregnant. The subjects were all- most insistent on her not being subjected to our normal laboratory sessions for copulation the rest of them undergo."

I wonder why? Kallus snarled vehemently in his thoughts.

"She was always taken by one of the guardsmen, likely to observe some archaic ritual of royal purity among them. But when all of them failed to impregnate her even after years of trying, I began inseminating her artificially without their knowledge during her monthly checkups. After all, it mattered little to me who fathered her offspring, so long as she actually bore children," the man recounted in a voice so cold and clinical, it left Kallus short of breath.

"Did- she know?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice even. He wasn't sure why he was asking, why it even mattered. Perhaps it was fitting punishment for his past misdeeds – to bear silent witness to the functional rape and torture of this girl who'd been hardly more than a child herself. He needed to hear all of Arekaya's story. To turn away now would be a betrayal, cowardice of the worst order.

"Oh, certainly not. If she'd been aware, she would've told the guards, and they may have actually risen against us. Besides, it was easy enough to keep her ignorant of what was happening, a simple matter of slipping in a catheter with the other tools during pelvic exams."

"And...that was how you achieved your success?" he asked, keeping his gaze fixed unerringly upon the beautiful young woman in the holoimage.

Stars...the horrors that child must have gone through...

"Not actually, no. Every single one of my experiments failed. Nothing I did could coax semen to take root in that girl's womb. I was beginning to fear she was simply infertile, and at that, we would have simply had to dispose of her. An unfortunate waste, certainly, but we cannot afford to go on devoting resources to dead ends; you understand?"

Unable to force himself to speak, Kallus just nodded.

"But then Subject Zerek 232 was brought to us. The boy was one of Kuross' lesser catches. With what he was paid for him, I highly doubt he even broke even on the resources it must've taken to capture the subject. None of us thought much of him; he was a nobody before he came to us and he was even more so after. The Zerek subjects are classified as such because they are largely unbreedable, health issues, bad genetics, and the like. We give the Zerek males a few runs with the more fertile females of Aurek and Besh groups, and vice versa, and if nothing comes of it, they are disposed of. But this particular Zerek, well...it seems nature works in strange ways, because those two formed some sort of bond."

They fell in love, Kallus realized, his heart swelling with pity as his gaze shifted between the images of Arekaya and Kazari. Perhaps he was only imagining things, but he thought he could see their daughter in their faces – the shape of Lia's little ears mirrored in her mother's larger ones...the stripes in her fur echoed in what few patterns he could see in her father's.

"Where the most robust seed of the sons of Lasan could not take root, the seed of that scrawny, underdeveloped nobody thrived. She was pregnant after only one coupling. Strangely enough, it was an opportunity we almost missed. We'd had no intention of breeding him with her. They simply...came together. It is truly an unfortunate waste that none of them survived. I have little doubt their offspring would have brought a great deal to this pool."

"So how was it they escaped in the first place?" Kallus asked, relieved to finally be able to shoot a very pointed glare in the scientist's direction.

A look of annoyance flashed in the man's eyes at that one. "Ah...well, our investigations have been inconclusive thus far, but it seems they somehow managed to stowaway aboard one of the transport vessels to escape to the surface. But you may rest assured it will not happen again."

"It had better not," Kallus snapped, unleashing his anger in the only way he could. Before he could subject himself to more of Archrem's twisted notions of science, however, his comlink signaled him.

"Agent Kallus," Masaada's voice sounded at the other end of the line. "It seems your rebel crew is inbound. I understand it's better for you not to be present for this exchange, but I thought you might like to observe."

"That would be ideal, yes," he said, making sure the hitch in his breathing had passed before he responded.

"I realize it's important that your observations be uninterrupted. I believe the security terminal in my office is the only one that hasn't been experiencing...problems of late," she ground out mildly. "You may observe from there if you wish."

"Yes, thank you, Colonel. I will head there immediately."

"Shall I join you in the docking bay, Colonel?" Archrem asked before Kallus could cut the communication, his tone of voice entirely too interested. "I'm sure you'll want me on hand to check the quality of their merchandise, as it were."

"Certainly, Doctor. Report to the bay in ten minutes."

"Of course."

Kallus didn't cut the connection, but Masaada did eventually, leaving the agent clutching the comm device in a grip so tight, it was a wonder the thing didn't shatter.

"It's been such a long time since we had a new subject, and this one will be naive and hopeful enough to still believe he'll be leaving when it's all over. This will certainly prove entertaining," Archrem said on his way out, and it was a kriffing blessing Kallus still had his fingers wrapped around the comlink, because if they hadn't been, the former Imperial was quite certain they would be wrapped around the scientist's pasty neck, squeezing the life from his worthless throat.

To have all of the things that utter sleemo had said about Arkalia's parents so fresh in his ears...and to think of them being applied to Zeb...his Zeb...like he was nothing more than some prize stud...it clawed horribly at his heart, leaving him with nothing but feelings of anger and guilt and anguish. Could he even bear to watch this happen?

You will, he snarled in anger at his own wavering spirit. You will watch it...because to do anything less than suffer it with him is to betray him.

So, swallowing down the horror and fear and rage that was Alex, lover of Zeb, he steeled himself once more as Imperial Security Bureau Agent Kallus, rebel spy, and made his way to Masaada's office.

The room the Colonel used for her office was fairly large, but also largely unadorned, as the extravagance of extra furnishings would be wasted on Masaada's sightless eyes. Schader Masaada was nothing if not practical. The office's only real feature was a large floor to ceiling bay window that looked out upon the endless blue-green of Manaan's abyssal ocean. The light that filtered down to this depth was all that lit the room through this window when he entered the space. It wasn't much, but it was enough to see by to make his way to her desk and boot up the holo terminal there.

It didn't take him long to tap into the security feed from the docking bay, but when he did, the sight that greeted his eyes was Zeb being half-dragged from a transport by stormtroopers, his head locked into a sensory deprivation helmet.

It only got worse from there, having to witness the way Zeb had so clearly suffered in that helmet, to the way Archrem surveyed him like a cut of meat – as if he were no more sentient than a pile of rocks. When Archrem began to talk about skipping procedure and breeding Zeb right away, Kallus felt a hard knot of fear begin to squeeze at the base of his spine.

No. Not Zeb! They couldn't do this to him! He was supposed to be able to get Zeb out before anything happened to him. And now...

Well...now it was a good thing he was witnessing all this from a distance, because he honestly wasn't certain he would've been able to restrain himself from interfering if he were nearby. He was able to keep himself anchored to the desk as he watched Kanan carefully intervene each time, even when Archrem was threatening to actually take a sample from the Lasat. Kallus felt his heart clench painfully when he saw the tiny spark of fear in his lover's eyes.

Zeb...I'm so sorry. I should never have brought you here. This is too much. I should've found a way on my own. I should've-

The guilty accusations continued to stream through his mind as he watched the scene unfold, mixing with anger when Archrem ordered the troopers to bare Zeb's back. And as he watched the scientist run his fingers along the Lasat's fur, defiling with his touch what he himself had touched in love and adoration, saw the barely contained revulsion in his love's eyes...Kallus could only wish he had killed Garst Archrem.

He saw the moment something snapped in Zeb's eyes, watched him lash out at his tormentor and be punished for it, dragged from the bay barely conscious. Shuddering in quiet anguish, he forced himself to take a moment to be certain Ezra and Kanan were not appearing on the security cams before tapping into the security feed from the cell he knew they'd planned to place Zeb in.

Zeb himself was unconscious by this point, but that was probably better, given that the troopers who'd dragged him to the cell were beginning to strip him out of his clothing in preparation for getting him into a prison uniform. Out of respect for what his lover was going through, Kallus made certain to keep his gaze fixed on Zeb's face. This was not what he wanted his first sight of Zeb undressed to be.

"Wait," Archrem's voice suddenly entered the feed before the man himself appeared on the holoscreen. "We have him stripped down. May as well take care of this while our big boy's still out," he said as he moved to his knees beside the Lasat. When Kallus managed to identify the items he'd brought into the cell with him, he realized with mounting horror that they were vials – a small set of ten or so.

"No," Kallus couldn't keep himself from whispering in harrowed shock. He had known it would have to be done; he just hadn't thought it would be this soon – that maybe there was hope to escape first.

"Don't think you maybe overdid it with the vials, Doctor?" one of the troopers asked with a small chuckle.

Archrem raised an eyebrow as he looked up at the man. "This is your first experience with sperm collection, I gather. You see, where human males will ejaculate only about 10 milliliters of semen in a single emission, Lasat males will ejaculate up to 250 milliliters per emission. They are also capable of multiple discharges if one is...determined enough. These vials may be only just enough. Now let's see what this magnificent specimen has for us."

He couldn't stop it. Even if he ran, this most grievous of violations would be over long before he could make it to the holding cells. Besides, no matter what excuse he could come up with, he knew he wouldn't be able to dissuade the half-mad scientist from taking what he wanted from Zeb; not with the look that was currently in his eyes.

Zeb...I'm so sorry. Please...forgive me. Forgive me for allowing them to do this to you, my love.

Torn between his desire to look away in respect of his lover's badly violated bodily autonomy and his decision to endure everything that Zeb suffered with him as best he could, Kallus tried his best to keep his gaze fixed above the Lasat's chest, but that gave him an oddly perfect view of Archrem reaching out to begin stroking a certain spot on Zeb's neck. After several minutes of very intent stroking and rubbing, an unsettling purring sound was picked up by the security cam. Kallus felt certain that under any other circumstances, he would've loved that sound, but to hear it like this...

"Ah, a very large boy," Archrem's voice lanced into his thoughts, praising whatever it was he was seeing. "And he stiffened so quickly, too...strong...healthy...very fertile, I have little doubt. Come now, my boy, show me everything you've got."

Kallus felt a wave of nausea rise through his innards at how much Archrem was unduly enjoying his work. He honestly wasn't sure how much more of this he could stomach.

But you will, he scolded himself yet again, keeping his eyes locked onto Zeb's unconscious face. Zeb has no choice in this matter, but you do, and you will not choose to turn away from this now. You will endure what you have forced upon him. You will watch this.

Zeb...forgive me...forgive me. I love you.

But still Archrem's voice was there, mocking everything the agent claimed to feel with his vile words.

"Any moment now...yes...there," the scientist said with a pleased gasp. "There's the barb."

He couldn't take it. Feeling the small protein ration he'd eaten earlier rebel against his tightly wound control, Kallus was forced to duck his head over the small compactor unit beside Masaada's desk and empty the contents of his stomach into it. The taste of his own vomit was bitter and sour on his tongue as Archrem's words continued to assault his ears.

"Good boy...good boy...that's a good boy...so good...my my my. Well over 300 milliliters, even, and still not finished. That's my good boy. It's been a while for you, hasn't it. Oh, I knew I should have brought more vials for this one. I just hate wasting even a drop of Orrelios seed. I shall have to come better prepared next time."

There won't be a next time, you monster. The next time you even try to raise a hand to my Zeb, I'll kill you myself, he vowed, even as his body trembled with the aftershocks of the sudden, violent illness. When he finally forced himself to look back at the holoscreen, it was at least to the relieving sight that the doctor no longer had his hands on Zeb's body.

"Clean him up before you finish dressing him, won't you?" the man requested as he carefully entered the data for each now-full vial. "The floor as well. Such a mess they make, these boys. I'll have to take another sample once community time has concluded. Then we can get an estimate for his depletion rate. If it's low enough, I might even be able to schedule him extra sessions. By the stars, we'll have the whole of Cresh impregnated with this one," he said, continuing to talk to himself as he carried his vials of ill-gotten genetic material from the cell.

"Is it just me, or does that guy enjoy his job just a little too much?" the newer trooper asked his compatriot.

"You get used to him. You get used to 'em all," the other trooper responded as he went about the task of cleaning Zeb up.

With Archrem gone, Kallus didn't feel the need to police his gaze quite as intently. He let his eyes canvass the Lasat's body as the troopers cleaned and dressed him, as if he could soothe his love's suffering with his gaze the same way he might be able to with his hands.

If nothing else, he supposed he could be grateful for the fact that Zeb had remained unconscious throughout it all. It wouldn't be difficult for him to figure out what had happened later, but at least he didn't have to remember this...what they had done to him. No. That was a horror for Alex alone to bear. And now, at least, it was over. If this was the worst this mission had to throw at them, they could still come through it all right.

He should've known, really, that almost no situation is so bad that it can't get worse.

He reported back to Masaada that everything was proceeding according to plan before settling in to wait for Zeb to regain consciousness, briefly toying with the idea of introducing the same bugs to Masaada's computer that he'd done with the rest of the compound's systems. Ultimately, though, he deemed it too much of a risk. Masaada was no Thrawn, but having given him access to her office, she would easily be able to pinpoint his involvement. Thankfully, it didn't take Zeb all that long to come out of it; not with the little one that ventured into the cell when they were all opened up for the daily community time.

After the unrelenting string of horrors the day had already thrown at them, it was something of a relief to be able to see Zeb smile again, to see him reunite with friends he'd long thought dead. He was able to understand enough of the Lasana to get the gist of what was being said and he had it on good authority that none of the scientists had really bothered to learn the language. Despite the circumstances, watching Zeb walk with his fellow Lasat toward the common area was like watching him be reborn in several little ways. He walked a little taller, squared his shoulders a little more firmly, and the open warmth that he knew his lover was capable of but so very rarely showed on the surface was shining right there in his eyes. He could have gone on watching Zeb's joy for hours...but then Archrem's voice entered in where it wasn't wanted yet again, basically telling the women to go at the fresh meat.

Kallus felt his heart clench yet again as he watched Zeb's eyes dart worriedly around the space that had, just a few short minutes ago, been a place of hope and healing. Not that the situation was truly dangerous...yet...but that such a choice was being forced on him at all...even without anything in his stomach, the whole thing was nauseating to the former Imperial.

In such a crowded space, it was harder for him to get a bead on individual conversation, but he could see the way Zeb firmly shut down his friend. And as the other Lasat gathered close and fell silent to hear one of the guardsman's stories about Zeb, Kallus would have gladly joined in to hear about his lover as a cadet, except he couldn't help noticing when the woman led Zeb away from the gathering.

He knew. He knew what was happening, even if he didn't fully want to admit it to himself. Most of his brain understood that this was just the hand they'd been dealt – the situation they were in...that there would be punishment involved if there was no copulation tonight. He could see it wasn't what Zeb wanted in the way he'd tried to push his friend away...and in the pity and sorrow those luminous eyes offered to her as she pulled the thin blanket over them. He knew, but even so, there was still a tiny part of his heart that conceded to jealousy – a small, secret, utterly petty sliver of his mind that wondered if the Lasat was enjoying it. A part of himself that was insecure, that was uncertain of his place in Zeb's heart...a part of himself that he hated. Unequivocally. Inescapably. Because he had no right. Because his kriffing feelings had no place here. He knew that small part of him was being foolish, but he just couldn't help himself. It lingered beneath the calm rationality of his spy's mind.

Unlike all the other instances today, though, this one had been Zeb's choice, and it was a choice he could allow his lover the dignity of by looking away as the two Lasat moved together beneath the scant protection the blanket provided them.

Zeb...Garazeb Orrelios...my Zeb...whatever it is you want of me when this is over, I swear I will give it. Whether that be forgiveness for a betrayal that is no betrayal...or an apology for what I allowed to happen...or even- leave of your vow to me...to love among your own people...whatever it is you need of me, I will give it and gladly...even if it breaks my heart, he vowed silently, his face turned down to the desk he sat at, both to keep his gaze from the security feed and to keep his destroyed expression from being viewed by any security cam that could possibly capture it. He made no sound as he wept, nor allowed his shoulders to tremble with the contained force of the sobs, but he had little doubt it would've been difficult to ignore the tear tracks running down his face. He didn't leave the office until he was certain he'd managed to compose himself to his normal flawless degree.

With community time ended, Kallus began to make his way in the direction of the cell banks, but not before paying a visit to Archrem in his lab, clearly prepping for his next visit to Zeb's cell.

"I'm going in to speak with Spectre Four now. I thought it prudent to warn you to perhaps delay your next sample collection," he told the scientist, his voice not inviting debate.

"Agent Kallus, I cannot delay this. The sooner I'm able to compare sperm count, the more accurate my data shall be," the doctor returned, voice only mildly perturbed as he ran some sort of test on a vial of fluid he had secured in a containment field. Kallus didn't care to think too hard on what that fluid was.

"Spectre Four is in your hands now, Doctor. He has already been sentenced to life imprisonment in this facility, whether or not he is aware of it," Kallus said, even though the mere thought of it brought back the rumblings of his earlier nausea. "You may take samples from him any time you wish. You will have ample opportunity to repeat this experiment or any other you like. But this Lasat and I have been at odds for some time. This is the only opportunity I shall ever have to see the look in his eyes when he understands who it is that has beaten him. I will not be deprived of that," he finished as he turned to go, but just out of the corner of his eye, he saw the scientist shaking his head.

"Gloating, is it, Agent? Well, much good may it do you. Will the rest of us be permitted to observe your triumph?"

"Certainly not. I will not have our meeting on the security cams at all. It could all too easily leak back to the infiltrators."

He noted the way Archrem's shoulders stiffened at that one. "How is that? Their defeat is assured tonight, is it not?"

"How well do you trust your people, Doctor?" Kallus asked him, planting the final seed of discord. "At first, we had assumed that knowledge of the facility had been leaked by one of your bounty hunters, but the glitches your system has been experiencing this last week have clinched it. The rebels have a man on the inside. You have a traitor in your midst, Archrem."

Archrem shook his head slowly as he stared at him. "That- it's impossible."

"Far from it. I will not have this sting ruined by your lack of foresight. If the rebels learn we are wise to their little game, then this entire operation goes up in flames. This particular cell will know they've been made if they see me in Spectre Four's cell. So if it's all the same to you, I will be shutting down the security feed to the cell."

"And the Spectre himself? He won't give you away to his compatriots?" the scientist asked pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed Kallus.

"Oh, it's far too late for that. Their signals have already been given. We have them precisely where we want them. My battle with the Spectres ends tonight," he declared, not waiting for another response before marching from the lab and off into the cell banks.

Most of the Lasat he passed on his way to Zeb's cell were either asleep or preparing to sleep. But there was at least one who was still awake – the one who'd first come to Zeb after he'd regained consciousness.

Zekaru.

Watching the former guardsman out of the corner of his eye, he saw him glare at him as he moved down the corridor, subtly baring his fangs in a growl. Not much feeling up to the act just then, Kallus simply kept his expression neutral.

"What?" Kar challenged him in a quiet snarl. "Can't resist the opportunity to play with the new meat?"

Kallus didn't acknowledge him, simply continued on his way, but before he could round the corner to reach his lover's cell, he heard the other Lasat's voice calling out to him.

"You have no right, Imperial! Do you hear me? Garazeb Orrelios is a better man than you'll ever be!"

Zekaru Talbenna...that is truer than you are ever likely to know, he thought with a shudder as he rounded the corner. Quickly deactivating the security feed to Zeb's cell, he shut down the laser field that served as the cell door and stepped inside, reactivating the field in its opaque setting to give them more privacy.

Zeb was leaning casually against the back wall of the cell, arms crossed guardedly over his chest as he surveyed him with wary eyes.

"Is it safe?" Zeb asked him.

Kallus nodded. "We're safe."

All in an instant, the facade shattered and Zeb was moving toward him, crossing the cell in only a few strides. Then the Lasat had him in his arms and they were embracing like they'd never let go.

"Zeb," he whispered against his lover's lips as they kissed, his fingers digging into the velvet-fine fur. He nearly collapsed into the feeling of those strong arms around him. "My Zeb."

"Alex," Zeb returned, pressing the name into his skin, returning every desperate caress with one of his own. After a time, their frantic exchange of kisses devolved into Zeb simply rubbing his face against his, even getting a little overzealous and rubbing down onto his neck and chest.

"What- what is this?" Kallus asked after a time. Not that he wasn't enjoying it, but it seemed to go beyond mere embracing. There was clear purpose in it.

"I'm givin' you my scent," Zeb explained as he lowered his forehead to one of Kallus' wrists, rubbing intently against the stiff fabric of his glove for a moment before slipping it off and repeating the gesture with his bare skin.

"I- what?"

"I can't tell the others who you are, so this is the only way I can think of to keep you safe. The other Lasat might not know why, but they'll be able to smell me on you, and that'll at least give 'em pause before anybody does anything stupid. This is dangerous. I want you safe," he insisted, pressing a kiss to Kal's wrist once he'd finished imparting his scent.

"Me safe?" he repeated incredulously, feeling the heat of his own blush as he looked down at his wrist, saturated in his lover in such an intimate way, yet far beyond his own ability to perceive. "They've only been treating you like a laboratory specimen all day...like an animal."

Zeb shrugged. "That's nothing new. Granted, it's never been to this extreme before, but- most of these Imperials...it's just how they think. No gettin' away from it. I knew what I was signin' up for."

"Still..." Kallus trailed off as he pulled his glove back on, holding his wrist close against his heart, "if anyone's in danger here, it's you. What they've done to you-"

"The others have suffered worse," Zeb insisted, reaching out to cup his cheek in one massive hand, the gesture markedly tender given the strength that lay in his hand alone. "Don't worry, ni alitha. This'll all be over soon."

"Of course...of course," he said, briefly leaning into the touch as he breathed in a sigh of relief. This moment would have to be enough. It would have to sustain him through to the end of this. There might not be another opportunity for them to speak openly until it was all over. "Are we ready then? Will your people be prepared when the time comes?"

"They will. You can go ahead and give Kanan the word."

"Right," he said, pulling out his comlink and tapping into the necessary frequency. "Spectre One, this is Fulcrum. Do you copy?"

"Yeah, Fulcrum, you got me," the Jedi's voice came back to him. "How's Spectre Four holding up?"

"I'm not dead, Spectre One," Zeb grumbled beside him. "That's pretty much all I got for you."

"I'll take what I can get in this place. So are we go?"

"We are go," Kallus returned with a nod, even though Zeb was the only one there to see it.

"Great. This looks important," Ezra's somewhat tinnier voice came over the comm device, followed in short order by Kanan's quiet laugh.

"Well, this shouldn't take too long. You'll be in position when the call goes out?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Spectre Six'll be waiting. Spectre One out."

Kallus nodded as he shut down the comlink. "It will be about an hour, then...before I spring my trap on an unsuspecting rebel spy."

"Got anythin' to do between now and then?" Zeb asked him, moving to sit down on the small cot that occupied one of the cell walls.

"Aside from making certain Archrem doesn't stick his sleazy nose in here, no," Kallus answered as he moved to sit beside him. "He'd meant to take another sample from you, you know."

Zeb winced as he pulled him close against his side. "You saw that, then?"

"I did," he whispered in answer as he looked down at their hands, twining his fingers together with Zeb's, just to be able to see them joined. "I swore I would do my utmost...to suffer all of this with you...even if I can never truly- feel what you feel. Even though you were unconscious, I- I didn't want you to suffer alone. I wanted to be there for you."

"Well," Zeb started with a small chuckle as he nuzzled his head against Kal's, "I wouldn't'a minded showin' off for you. Guess we can call it a preview," he said, turning his head to press a kiss to Kal's ear. The former Imperial managed a small smile for him.

"If you would rather that, you will certainly get no argument from me," he said, turning to catch the Lasat in a gentle kiss.

"I would rather. Don't get why that creep'd even need another sample again so soon anyway."

"He wanted to- compare it to the first. He wanted to know what...sperm count would be...after two emissions," he said, forcing the words out past the tangle of ugly emotion in his throat.

"Two? Karabast! How many times did that sleemo g-...make me-"

"Not that," Kal hushed him, not wanting him to have to say it out loud. "The...when you were with your friend...in the common area."

"Oh," Zeb started with a shuddered breath. "You saw that, too?"

"I- that one I looked away from. Because you'd made a choice...because you chose her, it- it felt too much like playing the voyeur."

"Alex-"

"You don't have to say anything," he attempted to head the Lasat off. He didn't think he could bear to hear him apologize for it. "It's just- this place. I know. I understand."

"Alex, I'm sorry-" he tried again.

"No. Please," he cut him off again, pulling away a little. "You don't owe me an apology. You didn't do anything. You were a victim in this just as much as she was. Even if- that wasn't the case...even if you chose her because you truly wanted her...I could hardly blame you for that."

He felt the Lasat stiffen in the place beside him, unable to bring himself to look at him when he asked, "What are you sayin'?"

"I'm saying she's one of your own, Zeb. One of your people. I understand your choices of partner were limited in a galaxy with so few Lasat, but- that's not the case anymore. I understand I likely wouldn't have been your first choice under any other circumstances. I know what you swore, but- I could hardly blame you if you would prefer to be with someone of your own kind. You don't have to worry about my feelings. I only want you to be happy...ni ashkerra," he said, knowing full well there was hurt in his eyes even as he smiled for Zeb. He knew this was no place to have this conversation, but he wanted Zeb to know it, just the same. He wanted nothing so much as he wanted Zeb to be happy – even if he himself became unhappy.

The response he got from Zeb for this, though, was a low growl and a look of anger. But these outward displays were somewhat belied by the gentleness in his touch when he took Kallus' face in his hands.

"I'm gonna forgive you that insult to my honor this once, because you're not Lasat and you probably don't know how much of an insult it was, but I didn't choose you as some sort of consolation prize. I chose you because I fell in love with you. I chose you because you're brilliant and brave and good. You're my Tinsana. I know it's different for humans. I know you try to 'keep things casual' or whatever, but...for a Lasat...the Tinsahn is for life. Tinsahn is always. If that's not what you want, that's fine, but I don't want you thinkin' I made you a vow with less than my whole heart."

For several minutes, all Kallus could manage to do was stare at the Lasat, not really knowing what to say. But when he felt the burn of tears behind his eyes, he immediately moved to pull him into a kiss, not wanting him to see those tears. Because really? Crying twice in one day? What the kriffing hells had come over him?

"I'm sorry," he whispered against Zeb's lips after a time, keeping their foreheads pressed together. "I know this is- neither the time nor place. I just...you've been through so much today-"

"We both have," Zeb shushed him. "But...before...I guess you thought I was tryin' to apologize for what happened. I wasn't. I was just sorry you had to go through all that on your own. Besides, you were right."

Kallus scrubbed at his face as he pulled back from the Lasat, the effort to wipe away the evidence of his emotion probably futile, but he was at least going to make an attempt.

"About what- was I right?"

"I literally didn't do anything," Zeb explained with a teasing smirk. "Tiri told me it was the only way to dissuade the others, so she just sat on my lap and we moved around a bit. Must'a worked pretty well if we even had you fooled. Big bag ISB agent. Though...I guess we can mark that one up to you havin' a personal connection to the situation," he finished, wiping away the last of the tears from Kallus' face.

Kallus gave a pained, self-deprecating laugh as he bumped his head against his lover's chest. "Well, it seems I've outed myself as the class one fool. Perhaps I ought to save us all the trouble and never doubt you again."

"Yeah, maybe," Zeb agreed, lifting Kal's face by the chin to look him in the eye. "Gonna need you to believe if we're gonna get the rest of the way through this in one piece."

"Then that will be my promise to you," he returned, the small smile moving across his face with an unexpected ease. "I will never doubt again."

"Good," Zeb said, a tiny thread of hunger briefly showing in his returning smile. Then they were kissing again, and if they hadn't been sitting down already, Kallus felt confident it was a kiss that would've left him weak in the knees.

Left panting, he whispered heatedly against his lover's lips, "You really don't need to reassure me more than that. My ego is not so fragile as that."

"Who said anythin' about reassurin' you?" Zeb growled back, hands trailing lightly but fiercely along his sides. "I know we're not on cam right now, but part of me just wants to show these kriffin' sleemos what real sex is."

Kallus trembled with longing with every press of the Lasat's clawed fingers against his body, feeling the heat of him even through his uniform. Even so, he attempted to bely the responses of his body with his words. "Sympathetic as I am to the desire, this is- truly not the right time for the- tension between us to just- burst," he groaned, immediately regretting his choice of word. Disgusting as it was, he'd been surrounded by entirely too much procreation this week.

Zeb groaned in kind, lowering his lips to Kallus' neck and mouthing his next words into the little skin he could get at. "Karabast. You can't just say things like that, Kal. This is gonna be- hard enough to stop...as it is."

"Don't- nhg...don't start something you can't finish...Captain Orrelios," he warned the Lasat, even as he leaned back against the cell wall, each breath heavier than the last.

"Mm...we'll call it mission-critical then," Zeb argued, only half-joking by this point. "After all, this...the scent can set in deeper...if you're more open to it," he said, briefly gripping the former Imperial's hip tightly in one hand.

"I'm sure it could," he returned, his own hand trailing up to grip at the back of the former guardsman's neck. "But we're not going to do this here, Zeb, and you and I both know that."

Zeb sighed as he leaned heavily against him, returning to simple nuzzling. "Yeah, you're right. We can keep that for later. Wouldn't mind stayin' like this, though. Things are bound to get ugly pretty soon."

"I have little doubt," Kallus conceded as he snuggled closer against his lover, wanting to take in as much of this as he could in the little time they had left. For a moment, he considered telling Zeb that he'd identified Arkalia's parents, but then thought better of it. So much had happened already. He didn't need to be putting more strain on the Lasat. So they remained just like that, cuddled tightly together, just being with one another – until the moment the call came through from Masaada and the act had to begin again.

"I doubt we'll have the opportunity to speak again before this is over," Kallus said as he disentangled himself from Zeb. "If all goes according to plan, at least, and I shall do my utmost to see that it does."

"So I'll just have to send you off proper," Zeb said before pulling him into one last kiss – deep, insistent.

A promise.

"Whatever happens out there...ni Tinsana," Zeb whispered against him, "just don't forget...L'ashkerrir an."

"La sylf orror," he returned in Lasana, and echoed the sentiment one last time as he stood from the cot. "I love you. I will see you again." He took in Zeb's expression at the last, the tender look tinged with worry. But before either of them could say anything more, he was gone, sweeping back out into the corridor. Because if he didn't leave now, he was legitimately afraid he might not leave ever.

Making sure to reactivate the security protocols on Zeb's cell before walking away, Kallus had nearly managed to forget the challenge he'd been issued on his way in. But as he headed back the way he'd come, it seemed his challenger wasn't prepared to let him forget.

"Might wanna fix that hair," Kar snarled at him as he passed by his cell, stopping Kallus dead in his tracks.

The Lasat was glaring vibro-shivs at him from the back of his cell, and there was nothing subtle about the way he was baring his fangs at him this time.

"I don't know what you did to him, but I don't suppose I have to guess. You're just as much a pig as the rest of 'em. Think you can take whatever you want," the former guardsman snarled as he moved through the cell, coming to stand right up against the laser barrier that kept him imprisoned. It took every last ounce of Kallus' considerable self-control not to take a step back. "Zeb's my friend. There was a time we were close as brothers. Whatever you did to him, I'm gonna make you pay for it. When I get out of here...I'm going to kill you myself," he vowed.

"Bold words," Kallus said quietly, barely managing to maintain a haughty sneer. "I will look forward to seeing you try."

"Imperial scum!" the Lasat growled at the last, snarling after him as he hurried away. Kar could certainly prove to be a problem later. Hopefully Zeb's insistence on scenting him would serve its purpose.

Checking in on the installation's security logs to make certain that Jidu had arrived and started in on her work, he gave her as much time as he could before heading surreptitiously into the life support control center where she was working. When he came up behind her, he was careful not to press the bayonet of his bo-rifle too harshly against her back, lest any sudden movements cause her to accidentally injure herself on the blade.

"Don't move...rebel," he snarled quietly in his best threatening voice.

Jidu didn't turn to face him at first, but she let her hands fall still on the console she'd been working at. The first front she went for was fear. "What? Sir, I- what are you talking about?"

"Don't play games with me, scum. Even my patience has limits," he snapped, playing his role to the hilt. "Hands in the air."

Jidu complied slowly, adding a tiny tremor to her body for good measure. Just as slowly, she got to her feet. "This- Sir...I really don't know what you're talking about. They just sent me down to have a look at the system. A Class 4 alert is serious. We don't have time to-"

"Don't speak again," he snapped at her. At his nod, two stormtroopers stepped out of the surrounding darkness of the control center. One of them placed Jidu in binders, turning her roughly to face him. Since her time in the bay earlier, she had exchanged the patch on her left eye for a lens in her right one, obscuring her Allurian heritage. "Now, let's see about your rebel friends."

"You're wasting your time," she said, glowering at him with defiant eyes before being shoved to her knees in front of him.

"Am I now? We'll see," he said, training his weapon on her head and calling out into the darkened space. "What do you say, Spectres? Are we wasting our time? If so, perhaps I had best shoot the girl and have done with it. Is that what you want?" he demanded, priming the bo-rifle to fire.

"Like I said, you're wasting your time," Jidu insisted firmly, and the tiny twinge of desperation in her voice was a credit to her acting – as if she really were trying to covertly convince someone listening not to intervene. "We're the only ones here."

"I know you're here, Spectres," he hissed, spitting the word like an ugly curse. "Show yourselves, or I put a blaster bolt through this girl's head."

"Better do it now, then," Jidu told him. "I'm on my own. Nobody's going to rescue me."

"You have until the count of one to reveal yourselves," Kallus warned. "Five...four..."

"I'm not kidding. It was just the two of us."

"Three...two...o-"

"No! STOP!" Ezra's desperate voice suddenly rose above the quiet hum of the instrument panels as he rushed out into the open. "I'm here. I'm right here. Don't shoot her."

"Ezra, no," Jidu whispered as if in despair.

"That's better," Kallus said with a gloating chuckle, sneering down his nose at the young Jedi. "I knew you didn't have it in you to let someone else die in your stead. Now roll your lightsaber to me, nice and slow," he warned him. "Any sudden movements and your friend dies."

"Ezra, don't do it-" Jidu started to warn before one of the troopers bashed the side of her head with his blaster. Hard.

"Quiet, scum!" the trooper snapped at her as she dropped to the floor, dazed, a lightly bleeding gash in the side of her head.

"Stop! Look. Here. It's okay. I give," Ezra said before slowly rolling his weapon across to Kallus. While the troopers kept their blasters trained on the downed spy, the agent lowered his own weapon briefly to pick up the lightsaber, examining it a moment before hooking it onto his belt.

"The weapon of a Jedi. So where is your master, little one?"

"What? Think I couldn't bust in here on my own?" Ezra challenged as one of the troopers moved in to place him in binders.

"Oh, I know you couldn't," Kallus taunted him. "The other is here somewhere. He is the one we really want. Now where is he?"

Rather than engage with him, Ezra just fell into a sullen silence, glaring at him in defiance as he moved to his knees beside Jidu. Kallus shook his head.

"So it's to be like that, is it? All right. Fine. I suppose we'll just have to do this the hard way. Take them to holding ce-"

"No," Masaada's imperious voice suddenly interrupted his order. Looking toward the entrance, he saw the colonel moving into the control center, her steps slow but confident, unhindered by her lack of vision.

"Colonel?"

"You have done well in capturing the insurgents, Agent Kallus, but if we are to bring all of them in successfully, we will have to use harsher methods."

"Such as?" Kallus asked, keeping his tone even. This had not been part of the plan.

Masaada drew out her comlink, every inch the commanding officer as she sent out a call.

"Archrem?"

"Yes, Colonel?" the voice on the other end responded, sending a chill down Kallus' spine.

"Have Unit 39 sent to the control center. And bring Subjects Aurek 224 and 109 to me as well."

"Right away, Colonel."

Zeb. Aurek 224 was Zeb's number.

"What is it you're thinking, Colonel?" Kallus asked her.

"Any plan they still have is likely focused on the control center. As you said, it was their plan to force us into evacuation. If they still mean to carry that out, it must be done from here. So if the Jedi wishes to accomplish his mission and save his friends, he will have to come to us."

Kallus raised both eyebrows, as if in interest over the notion. But beneath the calm exterior, worry was beginning to churn. Masaada was correct in noting that Kanan would need to get back in here to get things going. If Jidu had progressed far enough in her sabotage, the life support system would begin to break down eventually, but he was now no longer certain that that eventually would come soon enough for Zeb's sake. Whatever the colonel had in mind...would he be able to just stand aside and allow it to happen? When he glanced at Ezra, it was to see the same worry beginning to simmer beneath the surface.

Can we really do this?

We have to. Otherwise no one's getting out of here alive.

Still, with no other way of letting Kanan know what was happening, Kallus surreptitiously signaled the knight on his comlink and left the channel open, hoping he might hear what was happening and figure it out from there.

It didn't take long for Archrem and a cadre of stormtroopers to march Zeb and his friend from the common area into the control center, hands bound. His already round eyes went a little wider as he surveyed the scene, partly in feigned worry that his friends had been captured, but more in real worry that they hadn't yet been taken to a holding cell.

"Not what you were expecting, I gather," Masaada taunted the former guardsman. Rather than respond, Zeb just growled at her. "No matter. One must always be adaptable, eh? Garazeb Orrelios?"

Kallus kept his expression neutral at his former commander's revelation. Of course Archrem had deduced Zeb's Orrelios heritage, but how had she identified him personally? Had she really been listening to the prisoners' talk that intently? Even with all the system breakdowns?

"You- know this one, Colonel?" he asked her, gaze shifting between her and Zeb.

"I certainly wasn't going to forget the last voice I heard before auditory became my primary sensory input. I suppose you wouldn't have dealt with Captain Orrelios directly during the siege, but he was their last military authority after General Onzaya was killed. He held the palace until the very end. So I suppose if any would've survived that last explosion, it would've been him."

"Yeah," Zeb fired back with a low growl. "Same explosion that burned your eyes outta your skull, if I remember right."

Masaada laughed in response. "This one knows me. As I know him...to survive when so many others died...to walk free while those who remained were enslaved. This petty rebellion really is all you have left, isn't it, Captain," she mocked with painful emphasis on his title.

While Zeb didn't respond to her in words, Kallus could see the flash of abject anguish in his lover's eyes. He didn't imagine it would've been noticeable to anyone who didn't know the Lasat, but he did know him, and he knew how deeply Zeb felt things. That tiny flicker of quiet pain was only the surface of a soul-deep well of sorrow and guilt; and much though he wanted to reach out to his love, to comfort him and take that pain away, he kept himself in check. He reminded himself that the only way to protect them all now was to maintain the facade.

"Ah, well," the colonel continued when none of the rebels said anything. "I suppose it doesn't matter much. At the very least, the infamous Spectre Cell is about to meet its final fate. Tell me, Orrelios, where is your Jedi friend now?"

Zeb didn't even give her the courtesy of a proper 'no'. He only continued that low, threatening growling. Masaada shook her head.

"Stubborn as ever. But I suppose I know Lasat too well to think you would answer me, even under threat to your life," she said, nodding. And whatever the gesture meant, one of the troopers took it as signal to level a blaster at the side of Zeb's head. It took all of Kallus' control just to resist flinching.

Zeb was just as unflinching facing down his captors. "Yeah. You do know Lasat well enough, but you don't know me at all if you think I'll ever betray him. So why are you even tryin'?"

"You may be willing to throw away your own life for your cause. I would expect no less of a Rrasjan captain. But what about the life of your compatriot?"

At her words, another of the troopers shoved the Lasat woman to her knees, aiming for the back of her head. They all knew it would take little more than the whispered breath of a command for the white-clad soldier to end her life.

But the guardswoman herself, Shantiri, was calm and still. There was only dignity in her gaze as she looked up at Zeb – dignity and devotion.

"Okorre," she began quietly, her voice utterly unwavering, "La san araz an s'ahn kallat. Gar La sova sir an nel Jan Tallan araz valli. Benu Inkana Shalm san kerra nali'an," she declared, lowering her head before her captain. A pained shudder passed through Zeb's powerful frame at her words.

Masaada actually chuckled at the Lasat warrior's solemn words. "Perhaps I don't speak your animal's tongue, 109, but I am familiar with the Benu Inkana. Agent Kallus, do you know it?"

"Benu Inkana," Kallus repeated slowly, trying to muddle the words, as if he hadn't understood perfectly what Tiri had said. "It means...Master of Breath?"

"Just so. The Lasat have some very- particular ideas when it comes to death and killing. They see it as honor, I know, but it's also a large part of how we've been able to force their compliance in all this."

"What...what does it mean?" Ezra couldn't seem to stop himself from asking, gaze darting between Zeb and Tiri.

Again, Masaada chuckled mockingly. "Well, little Jedi, murderers and killers are two different things to a Lasat. To them, the only time you have a right to kill another is if that other is your enemy. If their continued existence is a true threat to your own. Anything else is murder, and that is blasphemous in the eyes of a Lasat. You may choose death for yourself, but you have no right to choose it for anyone else. When you threaten a Lasat female with death if she refuses to breed, she would only too happily choose her own death; but if you threaten the life of the male you've chosen for her, ah, then you have crossed a line. If she still refuses, it means her choice will lead to death for the male. This she cannot allow, because she has no right to make a decision that will end his life. So she spreads her legs for him and they both continue to be of service to our Empire. This is much the same. If the captain will not tell us where the Jedi is hiding, his choice will result in death for the female. And, if he is no monster, this is something he cannot allow."

"But the Benu Inkana is different. Isn't it?" Kallus tried to point out, not wanting to see the Lasat defiled any further than they already had been. It was good and noble and honorable – to choose not to kill another living being – and Zaniva and the Empire had taken that pure intention and twisted it into a means of coercion.

"Certainly. The Benu Inkana is a right given under their laws. It is the right one grants to another to choose. To choose your death without fear of shame or damnation. It was not uncommon, I believe, for members of the High Honor Guard to grant their captain the power of Benu Inkana. So 109 grants her captain the right to choose her death."

"So what is it you hope to gain from this then?" Kallus asked, keeping up his hardened exterior even as he watched the war rage within his lover's heart.

"109 has given, but will 224 receive? It is a difficult thing to shake, the notion that he has no right to choose her death."

And for a moment, Kallus was afraid that Zeb really might not be able to. For which he certainly wouldn't have been able to blame him. Tiri was friend and fellow guard, after all. A friend that, until today, Zeb had thought dead. Could he really be expected to sentence her to death so soon after getting her back?

Think, Kallus. Think! There hasn't been a situation yet you haven't been able to think your way out of. Come on!

"I'm afraid you're wasting your time," Kallus started when he saw the decision settle in Zeb's eyes. He had no idea where he was heading, but he needed to buy Kanan time to do- whatever it was he planned on doing. "These Spectres possess an almost fanatical devotion to their cause. They're not likely to betray it. If you think it best to stick this out here, we would do better to just wait the Jedi out."

Shrugging primly, Masaada sighed. "Perhaps you're right. Can't afford to be wasting our raw materials after all. But we have other methods to attempt in the meantime. Doctor, if you would be so kind."

"Oh, it will be my pleasure, Colonel," the scientist said as he came up beside Tiri, hand reaching for the same spot on her neck Kallus had seen him stimulate on Zeb before. Shuddering in barely concealed disgust at the point of contact, the former guardswoman began to purr almost immediately, her body plainly too used to the stimulation to react any other way.

"What are you doin'?" Zeb demanded, voice barely more than a growl.

"You like this one, don't you?" Archrem taunted him as he continued his stroking. "Did she feel good? How did it feel to bury yourself in Lasat flesh after so many years?"

"Stop it," Zeb growled, low and dangerous.

Tiri squeezed her eyes shut, shame rippling across her face as a tiny, animalistic whimper escaped her mouth. Whatever her own will might have been, she couldn't seem to help moving into the touch.

"You can smell her now...can't you...Aurek 224?" Archrem said slowly, fingers luxuriating in whatever pleasure point he was stimulating in the warrior. "Smell that slick heat. Does it call to you? To that hindbrain-most part of you? Her womb is empty. You can fill it."

"Leave her alone!" Zeb snarled, thrashing his head back and forth in an effort to shake off whatever thick scent must be permeating the air. Never mind what it was clearly doing to him.

"She has borne eight healthy offspring, has 109. She is very fertile. Why shouldn't she bear your children, too?"

Something inside of Shantiri seemed to break at the mention of her children. Tears slid down her face, quiet sobs mixing with her moans as she writhed beneath Archrem's touch.

"Okorre...zakyre," she tried again, pleading now. "Benu Inkana. B- Benu- Inkana. La obrir Benu Inkana. La or'velkir enver siv mayka. Na soller elysh, ni okorre."

"Tiri'ka," Zeb said softly, eyes bright with anguish.

"Zakyre...na allir...na allir...tef na allir...afil...orra!"

But Zeb shook his head, steeling himself once again to shake off the scent that was tormenting him. Then he looked down at his friend, and even though Kallus had never known the Lasat to pray, his next words sounded very much like a prayer.

"Ki ashvyri bargir gal bar aniri bog, keeraw sylf gorir afil an," he said, voice gentle as he could manage. "L'avir Ashla veleni an gar gal solleri an karran damat gara keera. Vas ah sorrer an astyr revat falna bogtyl."

When the stars fail and the night grows dark, the way will diverge before you. I pray the Ashla guides you true and gives you the wisdom to walk the right path. May she grant you the strength to hold back the darkness.

Tiri nodded slowly as she looked up at him, repeating the last words on a broken breath. "Rever falna bogtyl."

Hold back the darkness.

Tiri was at least spared the indignity of the scientist finishing her when two more scientists entered the control center, guiding a large, eerily coffin-shaped device between them. Kallus felt his stomach drop at the sight of it, fairly certain he knew what it was. But he had to make sure...just in case.

"Is that- a full sensory deprivation unit?" he asked no one in particular, gaze flitting to Zeb as he spoke, only to feel his throat tighten at the single flash of fear in the Lasat's eyes.

"Yes. Quite the beauty, isn't she?" Archrem returned as he stepped back from Tiri. "We have found the use of it to be a very...effective punishment for our subjects."

"I think perhaps some time in there will loosen our little friend's tongue," Masaada commented. What was visible of her expression was largely grim, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk teasing around the corners of her mouth.

"No! Don't!" Ezra pleaded as he shot to his feet. "You can't do this!"

"I see no reason why not, little Jedi. After all, your Lasat friend is ours to do with what we will now. The only way you'll stop this from happening is if you tell us where your master is."

With Ezra and the colonel's back and forth, Kallus almost didn't notice Archrem. Not until it was too late. His attention darted to the scientist just as he came up behind Zeb, plunging a syringe into the back of his neck and emptying its contents into his system. Zeb snarled in pain and shock, just missing ramming the scientist with a shoulder as he pulled back from him. Panting, the Lasat growled at the Imperial, "What did you do to me?"

"Oh, just a little hallucinogen to make your time in the unit more...interesting. It should kick in in a few minutes."

This was too much. It was just too much to ask Zeb to endure this. Though Kallus managed to maintain his stern countenance throughout, he supposed Zeb must have seen the thoughts rushing through his head just by looking in his eyes, because through the angry, fearful expression he kept on his own face, he communicated his own thoughts.

Don't, the Lasat's ever-luminous eyes seemed to say. If you show your hand now, my people will be trapped here...forever.

"Rever falna bogtyl," he said as the troopers herded him toward the open unit with their blasters. Most would've likely interpreted his tone as defiance, but Kallus knew it for the reassurance it was.

Hold back the darkness.

He kept his rigid glare in place as Zeb was half-forced into the device, trying to convey his promise with his own eyes.

I will get you out of there. I will. No matter what it takes.

He felt something inside of him twist with fear and guilt at the last look of fused resolve and terror in his lover's eyes just before the unit was sealed.

"Why the hallucinogen...if I may ask?" he forced himself to question his former colleagues, struggling to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

"Sensory deprivation is an effective, even elegant means of torture," Archrem began to explain with a twisted sneer. "But that effectiveness only comes with the passage of days. The longest a subject was confined and still managed to retain quantifiable sanity was two standard weeks. We do not have weeks to spend on Aurek 224. The hallucinogen speeds the process. It deteriorates the mind at a quicker rate. I have little doubt our dear Orrelios will be much more malleable after only a few hours of this."

"Effective indeed," Kallus said distantly, gaze flitting once more to the two younger rebels – to Jidu, barely conscious and still bleeding on the floor, and to Ezra, standing beside her, wrists bound and fairly simmering with helpless rage. While Kallus was just as angry as the young Jedi, he managed to keep that anger concealed beneath his schooled espionage expression, the only thing keeping him in control the thought of the countless lives that were counting on his ability to maintain it.

But then he heard Zeb cry out.

It was a tiny, strangled sound, but to hear such a sound come from the Lasat at all...it shattered something in him. Only years and years of training kept his facade from shattering right along with it. And as the time continued to tick away, those small, plaintive sounds gradually began to turn into screams.

"Ashla silir an," he heard Shantiri praying quietly. "Ashla rever an. Velenir an azare bar."

"You can't do this," Ezra whispered over and over again, his frame practically vibrating with rage. "You can't do this."

The boy's words echoed the refrain thrumming in Kallus' heart. He was an inch from breaking, plan or no plan, because Zeb was in pain...suffering. Zeb was screaming and he couldn't bear it anymore and-

But he was thankfully spared having to learn if he could bear it, as that was the moment an alarm began to blare throughout the compound.

"What is this?" Masaada demanded sharply, turning her attention to Jidu. "Girl, what did you do?"

The only response the young spy could muster was to spit in the colonel's direction. Moving to the console she'd initially been working at, Kallus tapped into the system, relief and mild terror intertwining in his body as he observed what must surely be Kanan's handiwork.

"I don't- think this is her doing," he reported, his voice tense. "The system is showing- hull breach. Hull breach in several locations."

"The Jedi is mad!" Archrem snarled. "It must be a system error. Surely he would realize such a drastic action would kill all of us. Not just his enemies."

"I would not put it past him," Kallus growled in answer, secret glee bubbling just beneath the surface. "I have seen them attempt worse insanity than this."

Before either Archrem or Masaada could say more, a message suddenly came through the console – a holographic image of Kanan and Zekaru.

"Hello, control center. This is Kanan Jarrus, Jedi knight. I hope you're receiving me."

"Jedi," Kallus snarled in response.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Agent Kallus. Should've known you had something to do with this."

"What have you done?!" Kallus demanded, summoning up his righteous fury from his earliest days of hunting the Jedi.

"You didn't leave me with much choice in the matter, so I had to improvise. I let the ocean in. We've forced a few pressure seals all around the compound and it's flooding fast. Your emergency flood gates'll hold back the water for a little while, but not very long."

"How do we know this isn't some Jedi trick?" Kallus pressed.

"You'd risk that? Really? When you've got maybe a few minutes to decide? Fine. Be my guest. As for myself, I'd like to live, so I'm hopping a ride out when the emergency vehicles show up."

"Aurek 246," Archrem called out to Kar, "is this how you would repay us? For having your lives spared? For keeping you safe here while the rest of the children of Lasan burned?"

"We would repay you for years of slavery and torture, Imperial dog!" the former guardsman snarled. "If you suggest we should thank you for so hideously violating the bonds that exist among us, you're even more insane than I thought. This is our choice, as one people – our Benu Inkana. Freedom or death!" he declared before Kanan cut the connection.

In the same instant the connection was cut, Ezra used those few precious moments of distraction to his advantage. While the troopers had been focusing on Kanan's doomsday announcement, he had shifted to allow Jidu to unlock his binders, permitting him to summon one of their blasters to his hand and quickly taking out a good chunk of them.

"Look out! He's loose!" one of them shouted almost before anyone else had realized what was happening. Feigning a look of angered shock, Kallus leapt back from the console as if moving clear of Ezra's line of fire. Except the movement landed him directly in front of the sens-dep unit, leaving him completely exposed and hoping the young Jedi would realize that the move had been deliberate – that he was telling him not to fire on the unit.

With an enraged roar, Tiri attacked her guards, swiping one aside with her massive foot and headbutting the other. And as she lashed out, Ezra used whatever power it was he possessed to force Kallus up against the containment unit, keeping him pinned there. Though that strange, invisible power kept him trapped, Ezra didn't use it to hurt him. Kallus just pretended to struggle for breath as the padawan drew closer, looking to him for an explanation through narrowed eyes.

"Don't...shoot it," he hissed under his breath, the exchange just barely concealed from the sight of the other Imperials. "Code locked."

A full sensory deprivation unit like this one was environmentally sealed and self-contained. It had to be in order to create complete sensory deprivation. But the system that would keep the victim suspended was a delicate network of calibrations, tapped fully into each neuron of the brain. Simply blasting the unit's locking mechanism would open it, certainly, but the sudden destruction of such a complex neural interface would obliterate not only the network, but the mind it was attached to as well. If Ezra fired on the device, he could very well kill Zeb without meaning to.

Nodding once in understanding, Ezra used his power to cast Kallus aside. Compared with previous encounters, he knew the young Jedi had made an effort to soften the blow, but there was only so much one could do to gently throw one's opponent against a wall. Kallus lay still, pretending he'd been knocked out by the impact while listening to what was happening.

"Drop the blaster or your friend dies!" Masaada barked at Ezra.

"Don't! Don't," Ezra started, first in panic, then a little more in control, the words followed by the sound of a blaster dropping to the floor.

"I swear to you, Schader Masaada, if you dare to hurt my captain-" Tiri started to threaten.

"I will have no threats from you, 109. A Jedi bratling throws a few fancy tricks around and suddenly you have the nerve to defy me? No," the colonel said, her voice going strangely soft. "You will die here with him. Archrem, where's the pup's lightsaber?"

"Still with Kallus."

"Bring it to me."

He couldn't prevent the theft of the lightsaber and still maintain his pretense, so he had to allow it, all while utilizing a breath control technique that lowered his pulse beat, making it seem like he'd been injured worse than he actually had been in the crash. Archrem did check, but Kallus wasn't surprised when the scientist made no move to help him. He simply scurried back to Masaada to surrender the weapon. Then he heard the sounds of the sens-dep unit being rushed from the room with the retreating scientists.

"Fitting end for a Jedi apprentice, that your master's blunder should lead to your own demise. We'll see if he's fool enough to come for you. Seal them inside," Masaada ordered.

Kallus waited to hear the sound of the blast doors closing and locking before sitting up and shaking himself off. Almost immediately, he heard an angry snarl.

"The agent's still alive," Tiri warned the others before stalking deliberately toward him, her hands freed from their binders and ready to wring his neck.

"Hey! Wait! Don't!" Ezra protested.

"Not- what you think," Jidu's weak voice joined in.

Kallus didn't get to his feet as the Lasat female bore down on him. He only held up his hands in supplication, more than a little relieved to see her stop short as her nostrils twitched.

"He- he gave you...his scent?" the warrior muttered in confused shock.

"E- eri," he returned in Lasana as he shifted to his knees before her, keeping his hands up. "Garazeb...ul san ni Tinsana."

Tiri's eyes flared wide in shock and anger. "An? Harresh? Mallana nis lasaht? Sav or'velkir sat. Sultir an rokir k'in san rallat astal Tinsahn Keerahn?"

"La sultir. Garazeb Orrelios...ul...na solla ni zash," he struggled to explain, looking desperately up at her. They didn't have time for this. Zeb needed them.

But the former guardswoman only offered him a skeptical glare. "Gal an masir an san vosaryl ashkerra'ul?"

Kallus shook his head. "Orra. La vas orror masir sav. Tan...sav sorr bennanul," he answered, struggling just a little with the guttural, rolled r's.

"It's okay," Ezra tried to reassure her as he moved closer. "He really is with us."

Tiri continued to stare down at him for several more moments, assessing. But, ultimately, she sighed and shook her head, switching back to Basic. "He wasn't joking about a man on the inside. And an Imperial for a Bondmate. Well, they always said Captain Orrelios was a bit crazy. I can see why he couldn't tell us."

"On that subject," Kallus continued as he slowly got to his feet, being careful not to startle the Lasat, "no chance we might still be on cam?" he asked Jidu.

"None. Security and surface communication are down by now," she responded, though her voice was still low as she drew herself into a sitting position. "Though...who's to say how much it matters? With us being trapped in here."

"That won't be a problem," Kallus reassured them. "I can easily slice any code they could put on that door. Just thought it might be best to give them a head start."

"Do we have time for that?" Ezra pressed. "They've got Zeb. We can't just let them walk away with him. Without my lightsaber, I-"

"You got by for years enough on Lothal without a lightsaber. I'm quite certain you can manage another hour," Kallus tried to reassure him, though he wasn't wholly able to help the wry tone of his voice as he moved to have a look at the lockpad. "I'll get it back to you when I get Zeb out."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Tiri asked him.

"Plan? What plan?" he returned brusquely, continuing his work. "The plans we had have all gone wrong. My only plan now is to see as many people out of this place alive as I possibly can. Get in touch with Kanan. Let him know what's happened."

"So, Kanan, I assume this place really is going to be flooded with massive amounts of water before too long?" Ezra asked over his comlink.

"Yeah, kinda had to improvise on that one. But hey, I can't imagine anyone's gonna be sorry to see this place go."

"No. Preferably not with us inside it, though," Ezra pointed out.

"Then we just won't be here when it floods. Where are you?"

"Still in the control center. They locked us in. Masaada took my lightsaber. Kanan...they've got Zeb."

"What do you mean?" the voice at the other end of the comm asked after a moment of bated silence.

"They still have him trapped in that sens-dep unit," Kallus called over his shoulder. "They'll try to use him as a hostage while they make their escape."

"Kriffing hells," the knight growled. "Zekaru and Alreitha went to oversee the evacuation of their own people. We did manage to come up with that much of a plan before unleashing the kath hounds. I'm heading toward you now. I'll get you out."

"No need," Kallus noted calmly as the door slid open, though his outward calm was utterly unlike the panic roiling beneath the surface. "You three should go assist with the evacuation. The emergency vehicles will be here soon."

"Like hells. We're gonna help you get Zeb back," Ezra argued.

"Really?" Kallus asked, turning back to look at Ezra. "How is it Jidu's getting to the docking bay then?"

"You don't need to worry about me. I can-" the young spy started to say as she made an attempt to stand, but groaned in pain as she went back down. Ezra hurried back to her side.

"They will need as much help as they can get with this evacuation. There's bound to be chaos," Kallus told the boy. "You will be needed in the docking bay. Kanan and I can handle getting Zeb back."

Ezra didn't argue, but he did give Kallus a long look as he helped Jidu stand. "And you plan to do that without blowing your cover?"

"Somehow," he said quietly, more to himself than to the boy as he looked away from him. He was no longer certain he could pull this off without blowing his cover, but he was going to do everything in his power to try. There was still so much he had to do...so much he had to make up for...

"Well...don't try too hard," Ezra told him, giving him another pointed look as he helped Jidu by. "Zeb's gonna kill us if we let you do something heroic and stupid."

Kallus raised an eyebrow at the young Jedi as he passed him. "So you Jedi are allowed to be heroic and stupid and we defectors are not? Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Course you're allowed. Anybody's allowed, but you're also family. So I gotta tell you not to die. You know how it is," Ezra said, nodding at him once before heading off.

"Give them all nine hells," Jidu called over her shoulder. Then they were gone.

"I ought to go with you," Shantiri said as she came to stand beside him. "Zeb is my captain, Lasan or no."

"Be that as it may, I would not risk any more lives than are necessary in this. This place will be completely flooded before long and there will be little time to waste," he told her. "I promise I will get him back."

"I know that bo-rifle," she said, and if she was looking at him, he didn't know, because he couldn't bring himself to look at her. "I can see it...even through your modifications. Avari was my mentor. You killed him."

Kallus felt something in his chest tighten at her words – that nameless old warrior he had fought that day on Lasan, whose weapon he still carried. "I...I have never- known his name. But I will honor it. Know that it was not my wish to kill him."

"I know that," she returned, her voice calm and composed. "I can also see that you earned the right to take up that weapon. He wouldn't have given it to you if you'd fought any less than honorably that day."

He couldn't wholly help the small tremor of relief that passed through him at that, even though he still felt a twinge of sorrow for what could never truly be made right. "He told me- that I had the heart of a warrior...that I mustn't let them take it away from me."

Tiri gave a pained, bitter laugh at that one. "That sounds like him. Don't let him down," she said before heading off in the same direction Ezra and Jidu had gone.

XxX

No one was here.

Not even him.

If his stint in the sens-dep helmet had been like a brief taste of oblivion, this was like being plunged deep into a vast ocean of it. He had nothing, nothing to reassure him of the continued existence of the world around him. He was cut off from sight and sound and scent, thrust into a void of absolute darkness and silence.

This time he was even stripped of his ability to feel anything. There was no whisper of air through his fur, no feeling of cold against his skin, no reassuring presses from the merciful hands of his friends.

He had nothing. He was alone. It was like his physical being had been stripped away, leaving him nothing more than a naked mind, and whatever drug Archrem had introduced was already starting to wreak havoc on that mind. With nothing else to make up his reality, all he had to hold onto were the images in his head...

...and those were quickly beginning to warp.

The last image he had of Kal was the stern Imperial facade with the tiny spark of fear deep in his amber eyes. But as the moment replayed itself in his head over and over again, those eyes seemed to spark fire.

And that fire poured outward, spilling into the destruction of his people...

...a city on fire...Lasat rendered living into ash and smoke...young and old alike...all of them screaming...

He could see his new family wreathed in those flames...Hera's warm smile...the wry tilt of Kanan's head...Sabine's mischievous smirk...Ezra's cocky grin...the crinkle of Rex's eyes in one of his rare laughs...Arkalia's tiny, precious features...Kal's eyes...those darkly burning embers that carried ferocity, sorrow, faith, and love...all of it...all of it burning and twisting into smoke.

NO!

I can't- lose another family. I can't!

But he had to watch them die anyway. Hera shot down in her fighter...Kanan and Ezra struck down by Maul...Sabine's fellow Mandalorians turning on her...Arkalia crushed underfoot by Stormtroopers...Alex discovered by the Empire...tortured and executed.

He shouldn't have been able to hear, but he could still hear them screaming.

Alex bound to an Imperial interrogation table...defiant to the last...even as they tore him apart...

They'll all die. They'll die because you aren't strong enough to protect them. Just like you weren't strong enough to protect your people.

I TRIED! he wants to scream, but he has no mouth. He has nothing. Nothing but a flayed mind held together only by guilt and despair.

Guilt for the dead.

Despair for the living.

Then it's all drowned, all lost beneath a crushing, unforgiving press of water. And as he stares into that abyss, he finds it staring back...staring back with Alex's sad, tender eyes.

"I'm so sorry, my love. Forgive me."

And there, through the dark, he sees Arkalia...sweet little Kali...crawling away from him.

No, don't! Please! Don't go! he wants to cry out, to reach for her. He can do neither. Kali! Where are you goin'?

The darkness swallows her up, leaving nothing behind.

My girl...my little squeak...please! Don't take my little girl away from me!

But the plea was useless. They're all gone, and he's alone, silently screaming, looking into the darkness while the darkness looked into him.

XxX

Kallus wasn't waiting long before Kanan was hurrying toward him from the opposite corridor of the one everyone else had taken off down. The knight offered him a grim smile on approach.

"Do you know where they went?"

"Beyond heading to the personnel bay for their own evacuation, I've nothing specific," he said, trusting the Jedi to follow when he took off running. There was little time to waste and they both knew it.

"Ezra and Jidu?" Kanan asked, easily falling into step just behind him.

"Jidu was injured. Ezra's helping her get to the docking bay."

Kanan started to respond, but his words were drowned out by the thunderous din of a collapsing bulkhead. The eerie rushing of water sounded somewhere entirely too close. When Kallus glanced down the corridor he'd been planning to take, it was to see water seeping into the space from several weakening blast doors at the far end.

"It appears we may need to take the long way around," he said, continuing to forge straight ahead.

"So how do we want to handle this?" Kanan asked as they continued to run.

"Hostage situation seemed to work well enough before. Just offer to trade me for him."

"And if they refuse?"

Kallus just ran in silence for several minutes before coming back with, "We'll activate that bridge when we come to it."

The rest of the trek was made largely in silence, broken only by the sounds of failing flood gates and fizzling energy shields. A layer of water was already covering their feet when Kanan suddenly came to a stop at the end of a corridor extending into a mostly dry sector.

"Kanan-"

"We need to go this way," the Jedi said, starting into the passageway.

"Jarrus, if this is more of that Force stuff-" Kallus started to argue. They didn't have time for this. Surely Kanan knew that.

"It is, and we'd better listen to it. I don't know why, but the Force is telling me we have to go this way. When this place could go at any minute, I'm not about to ignore it," he said firmly, not waiting for debate before taking off again. Snarling in frustration, Kallus headed after him. If this was what it was like to work with a Jedi, he supposed he could see where many people had gotten their fill of it during the war.

"This is Masaada's office," he told Kanan when they reached the end of the corridor. "I was here before."

"This is it," Kanan confirmed after several fleeting seconds of consideration. Kallus quickly keyed in the entry code, causing the door to slide open. "See anything?"

Entering the room, Kallus glanced around. Even with the little that could be seen with the dim light from the large bay window, he couldn't see any movement.

"Nothing that I can see."

"Be careful," the knight warned as he came in beside him. "Someone's in here."

"I really don't think we have time for this. They still have Zeb," Kallus pointed out anxiously as he moved further into the room. But then his eyes caught the holo display above the colonel's computer – the active holo display. Someone had been using it. But no sooner had he comprehended that, than the door slid shut behind them.

"You aren't wrong about that," Masaada said as she stepped out of the oppressive darkness of her office. "Though your Zeb just may be closer than you thought."

"Schader," he whispered, keeping his voice even. There was no point to pretending. He knew. He had told her everything she needed to hear in a single sentence.

"So it was you all along. Alexsandr Kallus," she sneered as she moved toward them. "The very last person any of us would have suspected. Why, Alexsandr? You were everything a loyal agent could have aspired to be. Why would you betray our Empire?"

"Because we're wrong," he answered without hesitation as he drew his bo-rifle, hearing Kanan's lightsaber ignite in the space behind him. "It's that simple. No order is worth the lives that have been lost, the suffering we've brought."

Masaada shook her head, moving even closer. "You disappoint me, Kallus. I thought you had greater vision than this. I thought you knew what needed to be done."

"I do. I didn't before, but I do now. Tell me where Zeb is."

Rather than respond, the colonel snapped her fingers. At that simple sound, two weapons zinged to life in the darkness Masaada had emerged from. They were not bo-rifles, merely electrostaffs, but Kallus didn't imagine they were any less dangerous given who, or rather what, was wielding them.

The light from the electrostaffs revealed two young Lasat warriors standing guard over the sens-dep unit. They were dressed in black mockeries of Honor Guard uniforms and their expressions were utterly blank.

Oh, no.

"Surely you'd wondered what became of our Lasat crop," Masaada said, every word only twisting the vibro-shiv deeper. "Mostly they're sent out, but I keep a few on hand for guard purposes. They are, after all, such extraordinary fighters. And so loyal...once their sense of identity has been eaten away by a bio-chip."

"Chip?" Kanan repeated in mild shock, that smallest bit of horror letting Kallus know exactly how deeply that one word had cut him.

"Ah, yes. I suppose you do have experience with that, Jedi. While Zaniva didn't have the talent to replicate Kamino's cloning process, they could at least come up with something similar to the cloners' organic inhibitor chips. But this chip's purpose is a bit more...shall we say heavy-handed?" she said with an ugly sneer.

"What do you mean?" the Jedi pressed, something in him clearly on the verge of snapping.

"The Kaminoan chip simply instigated a single command, eliminating the ability to question that command. Our chips do for an organic mind what a mind wipe does for a droid. Specific protocols, such as military training and warrior heritage, are left intact, while memories of interpersonal relationships and tenets of identity are wiped clean. It is, of course, a much more violent process than the clone troopers went through, so only about one in four of the subjects born here survive it. That's why we breed so many."

"How can you do this?" Kallus faintly heard himself whispering, giving voice to his anger, disgust, and frustration as he hadn't been able to for nearly a year now. "How can you treat living people like this and call it right? I don't understand you. I thought I knew you once, Schader. You may have been hard, but you were always fair. Why are you doing this?"

For several minutes, Masaada just stood there. Gradually, her shoulders began to shake as ugly, half-mad snarls of laughter tore from her throat. Then she ripped her visor from her face, revealing a left eye milky with blindness and an empty right socket.

"They took everything from me that day. Now I'm taking everything from them!" she hissed, tossing the visor aside. "Xesh 601, Xesh 757...kill."

The two Lasat were in motion even as she spoke the command, splitting off from each other to engage both him and Kanan. The Jedi was ready, but Kallus barely had time to raise his weapon to block his opponent's first strike. The face that gazed at him across the two locked staffs perfectly impassive, completely without thought or feeling of any kind. This poor soul had nothing – nothing but the order to kill him. Briefly, he found himself relieved that he hadn't allowed Shantiri to come with them. For all he knew, this was one of her children.

No! he snarled at himself as he twisted out of the deadlock, moving in a wide circle around the young warrior. Thoughts like that aren't going to get you through this fight.

Even so, he couldn't wholly bring himself to not see the empty chasm in those eyes – that place where a vibrant spirit had once lived, now shattered and erased like an obsolete computer program. The litany streamed through his mind like a useless line of code as the young Lasat came at him again and again.

Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty.

With each repetition, it became that little bit harder to hold back the blows.

Is this what you wanted when you sought to bring peace and order to the galaxy? This? Perfect compliance? Absolute obedience? This...nothingness?

Those eyes were a grave looking to be filled with the peace of death.

Kallus screamed as he fought back against the void before him, using all of his skill just to keep the Lasat at bay. After getting in a successful jab with an electrified tip, he rolled away, switching back to rifle configuration in the same move. But when he focused in to take his kill shot, he aimed a little wide instead, only grazing his opponent's shoulder.

"They're not there anymore, Kallus!" he heard Kanan shouting at him as the Lasat rushed him, having barely reacted to the pain. The agent quickly switched back to staff mode.

"How can you know that?" he demanded, even though he knew it was futile arguing with the Jedi. Part of him still wanted to believe...to cling to the hope they could be saved.

"Because I can see it. They...they've been hurt too deeply," the knight explained between bouts of his own. "I'm sorry, but...at this point, it's kinder to just end it."

He knew that. He did. But he also knew it would destroy something in his reclaimed soul to murder even one more Lasat. Something in him would die.

"Can you do it?" Masaada's mocking voice found him from the vaguest edges of his sphere of awareness. "Can you give them what they need? Even though it will break you?"

Kallus couldn't say whether he allowed it to happen or he was simply falling before the mindless warrior's relentless onslaught, but he wasn't quick enough to block the latest attack. The blow from the electrostaff delivered a violent current of electricity throughout his body, allowing his opponent to throw him bodily across the space, sending him crashing heavily to the floor near the sens-dep unit. He cried out in agony when he felt something dislocate in his left shoulder.

It was a struggle for him to even get back to his knees as the young Lasat stalked toward him. Time slowed to a crawl for him as she slowly raised her weapon above her head. He was eerily reminded of his first confrontation with Zeb, the positions now reversed. Maybe it was better to die here? Repenting for his crimes by dying at the hands of a Lasat...

Briefly, his gaze flicked to the monstrous device that held his lover imprisoned. Kanan would be able to save him; he would be fine. Even if Zeb wasn't aware of it, at least he could die by his side. But then, just as the young warrior was bringing her stave down to end his life, something more occurred to him.

This was not about him. How horrible a person was he? To make this young woman's suffering about his own conscience? His own heart didn't matter. She needed help. He could give it to her.

"KALLUS!"

The former Imperial didn't know where he found the strength or speed to lift his bo-rifle, but he did. He raised the weapon just beneath his opponent's downward strike, stabbing through her heart with his bayonet and sending a punishing current of electricity through her body. For a moment – just a moment – he saw those round, luminous eyes brighten in shock, then flicker to relief just before the light faded from them completely, leaving her to collapse before him. Dead.

"Impressive," Masaada said, her voice an odd mix of pleased annoyance. "Perhaps you really are a Butcher of Lasan."

"Don't say those words," he growled as he got to his feet, taking a moment to close the Lasat woman's eyes. "Not ever."

"Afraid of what you are, Kallus?" she asked as he moved slowly toward her. Distantly, he noted that Kanan had moved away from his own defeated opponent and toward the door, blocking escape. So that was why she hadn't made a run for it. "You have killed and bled for your beliefs. When did you become such a coward?" she demanded, the whispers of madness flickering in her destroyed face.

"If anything, I was a coward before...not seeing what I had become...not wanting to see," he said, shutting off the current in his bo-rifle, but still leaving it in staff mode. "You are not blind because you can't see, Schader. It's because you won't see."

Masaada laughed as he came to stand before her. "I made a choice, you know. Not to accept bionic eyes. I saw what became of Vidian and those like him. Was I wrong? When you start down that path, where do you stop?"

"When do you stop on the path you're on right now?" he pressed her, fighting against the pain in his shoulder with every movement. "It doesn't have to be like this. I know. There's a better way. Come with us, Schader."

Again, she laughed. "The merciful conquerer? No. You just don't want to kill me. Obviously, you can't let me leave. Not with what I've heard."

Kallus exhaled slowly as he dropped into a battle ready stance, his bo-rifle still un-ignited. "I don't want to fight."

"That's unfortunate," the colonel said as she drew the collapsible staff she had strapped to her back, "because you'll have to."

He was ashamed to admit he'd thought the staff was a walking aid of some sort. One she didn't have a need for anymore, knowing the base so well. But as she deployed it, it became plain it was a weapon – a weapon he had little doubt she had trained extensively with to be able to wield.

"Please don't make me do this, Schader," he pleaded with her as he reignited his weapon. "This whole place is flooding."

"Then we'll die here together if it comes to that," she snarled. "Because we both know that neither can let the other leave alive."

"Fine."

He gave no more warning than that before attacking. She was ready for him when he came at her, easily blocking the blow he tried to deliver from her side. He attempted several more approaches, all of which were quickly thrown back. Without the full use of his left shoulder, he was fighting at only half strength.

"I never took you for a staff fighter," he grunted

"You'd be surprised what you can do when you have to."

"No. I don't think I would be," he returned, making a sweep to try and take her legs out from under her, but she anticipated even this and blocked his strike in short order. As they battled back and forth across the space, Kallus began to realize that she was maneuvering him, drawing him back toward the sens-dep unit. And the moment he comprehended that, he noticed Kanan at the edges of vision, attempting to make his way to it. She was not going to make it that easy for them.

But in his moment of distraction, she got in a nasty blow to his chin, sending him sprawling backward. His injured shoulder shrieked in agony at the latest impact, drawing a sharp cry of pain from his throat.

"Keep your eyes on me, Alexsandr," she warned him. But the taunt had also made him think of something else...something she maybe hadn't wanted to occur to him in all this.

"Why did you come back here?" he asked as he struggled back up, delivering single-handed hits from several directions to distract her. Preoccupied with listening for his swings, she'd be less able to deceive them. "I understand why you'd keep Zeb with you. It would've kept the other Lasat from attacking you, but why come back here when you could already be aboard your evacuation craft? What's so important you couldn't leave it to be destroyed with the rest of the base? That you'd risk your own life for it?"

"There's not much to risk as far as my life goes," she growled at him, ducking to force him to overstep his latest attack, nearly managing to land a strike to his midsection. "But I've already told you what I want. The only thing I want. If you can't extrapolate from that, you don't deserve to be an ISB agent." Her next blow was to his unguarded shoulder and, for just a moment, his vision went white the pain was so blinding. He screamed as he dropped to his knees, but even in abject agony, his mind poured over the meaning of her words.

What she wanted? What she wanted was to take everything away from the Lasat. So what she needed could only be something related to the project, to the further suffering of the Lasat people. Glancing back to the desk, Kallus finally noticed what he hadn't before – the datapad attached to the computer, still downloading files from it.

"Kanan!" he shouted to the Jedi, uncertain what the exact extent of the blind knight's awareness was. "The computer! There's a datapad!"

"On it."

"Stop!"

Masaada's warning rang out sharply to both of them in the sudden silence of the office as she stepped back to stand beside the sens-dep unit, the end of her staff poised just against the device's control pad. And with that one motion, Kallus saw his entire reality suspended from a single, slender thread – the hairsbreadth of space separating the staff from the control pad.

"I'll destroy it," she warned them, the seriousness of her intent conveyed in the slight tremor of her body, her graying auburn hair having come loose from its knot and tumbled across her face with the slight movement. "Drop your weapons. Leave the datapad and go...or I'll kill your friend."

"Schader...please," he begged softly, making certain she could hear him set the bo-rifle on the floor. "Don't kill him."

He shouldn't do this, shouldn't bare himself so completely, shouldn't show her just how tightly she held his life clutched in her uncaring fist, but too much had happened today for him to hold his composure together. He had no strength left for the act, the pretense that Garazeb Orrelios did not hold his fragile heart in his hands.

Besides, maybe his display would give Kanan the opportunity to act.

"The Jedi, too," Masaada snarled. "I want to hear that lightsaber hit the floor."

Kallus heard Kanan comply. He didn't dare turn back to look, even if Masaada couldn't see him.

If he dies...if he dies, I-

"Schader...if you want to kill someone, kill me. Just let him go. I beg you," he said, remaining on his knees so she would hear his voice coming from below her.

"What's happened to you, Alexsandr?" she snapped at him. "You've gone from butcher to some Lasat-loving freak! Have you forgotten what they did to your unit? Have you forgotten Alain?" she demanded.

"I forget none of them," he hissed, eyes drifting to her belt when he saw a flicker of movement.

Ezra's lightsaber!

Schader didn't seem to notice it in her growing rage, but the weapon was pulling against the clip on her belt, pulled by the Force – by Kanan. But...what was he planning to do? He wasn't close enough to actually use it; not before Schader carried out her threat. Unless...he meant for it to wind up in his hands.

Could he even use a lightsaber? If their timing was off by even a second...

...Zeb would die.

Stars, Kanan Jarrus, I hope you know what you're doing.

"Then what is it? What happened out there to make you so soft?! Don't- don't tell me it was this beast! No," she whispered in something like amazed horror. "It was. You care for this one. That- that's so disgusting. Is that all it takes to turn your heart? A little sexual perversion?"

That he didn't even dignify with a response. If she didn't know now, she never would. There was nothing disgusting or perverse in what he and Zeb shared. Nothing. So, at the very last, he attempted to put all the condemnation he couldn't put into his eyes into his voice.

"Garazeb Orrelios san ni ashkerra. Ul san ni Tinsana. Your ignorance cannot destroy what we truly are. And if hatred is all you will ever know, then you will die alone...and I feel sorry for you."

Schader Masaada spat at that one. "Well, I guess if you're going to kriff one of them, you may as well go fully native. Maybe I should just end this now. That would be a fitting punishment for your betrayal, wouldn't it? Having to watch him die-"

But they would never know if the colonel would follow through on her threat, because Kallus was watching, waiting for the moment the lightsaber flew free. And the instant it did, he lifted his hand, the hilt flying true. The green blade shrieked to life as he gripped it, piercing Schader Masaada straight through the heart.

Her staff clattered to the floor, shock blooming across her face in those last scant moments before her final breath shuddered from her body. As Kallus deactivated the lightsaber, his former commander tumbled to the side, collapsing to the floor like so much dead weight. It took everything Kallus had not to collapse right beside her.

Kanan was by his side in an instant, supporting him before he could go down.

"Well, I know better than to ask if you're all right. Don't move."

"Won't- go far," he mumbled faintly, but he was soon snapped back to painful awareness when the Jedi seized his shoulder in both hands and, by some combination of them and probably the Force, popped the dislocated joint back into place.

Kallus screamed in pain one last time, his mind briefly lost in a fog of agony. The pain was so bad, it actually caused him to reject the little bit of bile he still had in his stomach. Once the shoulder was back in place, though, that pain passed quickly.

"Thanks for picking up on that," Kanan said to him as he helped him stand. "I really had no idea if that was going to work."

"Well, in my experience, that's typically how things work in the Rebellion anyway."

"I'm- honestly not sure if that was sarcasm or not. Either way, we need to get out of here. I almost hate to say it, but it might be better if you just cut your losses at this point and come with us now. Who knows when you might get another chance?" the Jedi pointed out as he went to collect the datapad Masaada had been so keen on keeping from them.

For a moment, Kallus actually considered it. An end to the fear and the danger and the hiding, an end to his loneliness and isolation. A chance to see Arkalia again, and to finally be with Zeb.

But it was also for this reason he knew he couldn't leave. He still owed it to the people he loved.

"I want to, Kanan. You can't imagine how badly I want that. But with Masaada dead, my identity is protected. So long as I have that, I must endure. I cannot abandon my duty now," he said as he moved over to the sens-dep unit, resting a hand on the cool durasteel surface.

Kanan sighed as he joined him. "I get it. I think you're being an idiot and Zeb's gonna kill us both later, but I get it."

As he spoke, Kallus let his hand curl into a fist against the hated device. Faintly, he heard the sound of weeping from inside. He wanted to release his love, to end his suffering...but...

"I hate to say this, but...I think you may do better not to release him until you get back to the emergency vehicles. He will be badly disoriented, likely still hallucinating, and you need to get out of here quickly. His condition would only hinder that."

The Jedi groaned in frustration at that, but he nodded. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but I also know you're right. I can sense just how bad off he is in there, and it...it's bad," he said with a shudder. "We'll have a better shot if I just make a quick run."

"Can you find your way back on your own?"

"Sure. No problem. Let's do this."

"Right," he said, then took a small moment to rest his forehead against the device, pressing a tiny kiss to the unyielding surface.

"La sylf hasher an jital, ni ashkerra," he whispered before pulling himself away. Then they were on the move. Kanan guiding the sens-dep unit back the way they'd come and Kallus slogging his way through knee-high water to get to the personnel bay. It was much closer than the distance Kanan had to travel, but given where the Jedi had collapsed pressure seals, the flooding was decidedly worse down his path.

"This is Agent Kallus. Does anyone read me?" he started in on his comlink.

"Kallus?" Archrem's startled voice soon returned. "We thought you'd-"

"Never mind. Tell me I'm not about to die alone in a collapsing underwater base."

"We'd been holding off departure for the colonel's return. She-"

"You'll be waiting a long time, then. Colonel Masaada is dead. The Jedi killed her."

"Then we'll be leaving when you reach us. Assuming you can manage that in the next five minutes."

"Perfectly manageable, Doctor. Kallus out."

XxX

The light!

The light was blinding.

And the sound of his own scream in his ears was nearly deafening.

And having the sensation returned to his skin was nearly what he imagined it must be like to be bathed in acid. He didn't fight curling into a fetal position in his attempt to pull away from it all.

"Zeb? Zeb, it's okay," a familiar voice was near-shouting in his ears.

Kanan? But...wasn't he dead? Or was he dead?

"Stop- stop shouting," he begged meekly. He had no idea what was happening.

"Zeb...I'm not shouting. My voice doesn't go any quieter than this. It was the sensory deprivation unit they had you trapped in. That and the drugs."

Drugs? Right. Of course. He'd been drugged. He'd been trapped. That was why this was happening. Manaan. Zaniva. Masaada. Archrem. Kar. Tiri. Jidu. Ezra. Alex.

"What- what happened?" he finally made himself ask, not sure just how much was real and how much was hallucinated anymore. "Who's dead?"

"Nobody's dead, Zeb. Everybody got out. I don't know what your man's been up to, but it seemed like the Imperials were even less organized than usual, so we can thank the stars for small miracles," he said, reaching out a hand to rest gently on his shoulder. Or at least he imagined the touch was meant to be gentle. To his overwrought nerves, it felt like a durasteel grip.

"W- where are we?" he asked, somehow managing not to flinch away from the touch, despite every instinct screaming at him to get away, to hide, to escape all this sensory overload.

"One of the emergency vehicles. Last one to get out. I made the others take off ahead of us since...I had to get you back. I'm sorry I had to leave you in this thing, but we had to get out fast. I might've done better to leave you in it until we were offworld, but...I didn't think you'd make it out with your mind still intact if I waited any longer. So this isn't gonna be fun. I'm sorry, big guy," he repeated, slowly pulling the Lasat into a hug, which he managed not to flinch from. After a few minutes, he even managed to return the embrace, clinging tightly to his friend as he slowly uncoiled from the tight little ball he'd been curled into.

"I...Kanan, I want outta this thing," he said after a time. "Help me out."

"Sure. Come on," the Jedi said as he helped him climb out of that hideous deathtrap. Then he was helping him lean against a wall. It was cold...so kriffing cold...but he bore it, because he knew he couldn't stand on his own. "Can you open your eyes yet?"

The process was slow, happening over a course of several attempts at blinking his eyes open before having to slam them shut again. When he finally managed to keep them open, it was to see Kanan kneeling in front of him, face pinched and shoulders tense with worry.

"Where...where's- my bo-rifle?" he asked, realizing what it was he wasn't seeing about the figure of his friend.

"Zekaru has it. He's on one of the other evac vehicles. Figured it was only right, that a proper Lasat weapon should be used against Zaniva. Your friend agreed with me."

"Heh, nice. So...what happened down there? How long was I in that thing?"

"A few hours. I couldn't tell you exactly how many. I kinda had to improvise. I set your guard buddies free and we sabotaged a few of the compound's pressure seals. Those sleemos tried to run off with you, but we got you back. I'll tell you the story sometime," the knight said with a somewhat self-satisfied smile.

"Then that place is-"

"Destroyed. Pressure crushed. Anything that's left over is thoroughly flooded by now."

"Good," he snarled weakly.

"We don't have a lot of time here. The first evac vehicle made it to the surface and Hera's been giving me updates. If at least that's going according to plan, Rex should be getting them offworld right now. The second one'll probably be hitting Ahto City at the same time the Imperial craft gets up there, and that's gonna be when the trouble starts."

"What's happenin'?" Zeb asked, blinking furiously at Kanan when the air around his face seemed to splinter and move in waves.

Not real. Not real. Keep a hold of yourself.

"Chopper didn't get a chance to lock that bay down. We've had to move the schedule up so much, he's been tied up with working around planetary security. The second freighter should be able to get away clean before Zaniva sounds the alarm; they at least won't be in contact with Ahto City's garrison until they reach the surface. But that still leaves us with two freighters' worth of Lasat planetside. The third might be able to slip through in the chaos. Zel's setting up a few surprises for our Imperial friends right now. It's the last one that really might not make it out. We're just gonna have to go for it and hope for the best."

"Oh. Is that all?" Zeb asked with a shrug. "And here I thought somethin' different was gonna be happenin'. Almost had me worried, you jerk."

"Heh, right. Shantiri's here. She's gonna be the one to lead you through when we hit the docks."

"What do you mean 'lead'?" Zeb asked, looking at his friend through narrowed eyes.

"I mean I hope even you're not delusional enough to think you could actually engage in a fight right now. You can barely stand on your own. Survive today and live to bash Imp heads together tomorrow. I want you to be on the third ship instead of the fourth one. I'm not sure what's gonna happen, but I know your people need you right now. You have to make it out," Kanan told him firmly.

Zeb groaned in frustration. "Wouldn't much care for the idea of you sendin' me away...if I didn't know you were right."

"And you can tell exactly what kind of day it's been when Captain Orrelios concedes defeat," another familiar voice entered his ears. When he looked past Kanan, it took his vision a moment to stop wobbling in order to fix on Tiri. "We're getting close now. We should get ready."

"Right. Somebody gonna help me up?"

"Yeah," Kanan said, being careful as he helped him to stand. Before passing him off to Tiri, he gave him the simple farewell of, "See you on the other side, big guy."

"See you. May the Force be with you, or whatever it is," he mumbled, leaning heavily against Tiri. By the time she helped him out of the small back compartment they'd been in, Kanan was long gone, off to oversee the docking. Tiri led him into the main bay where the rest of their people were gathered.

Zeb couldn't get his mind straight enough to take in much of what was happening, but he was at least faintly aware of the fact that he was surrounded by Lasat, and for the second time in as many days, he was completely floored by that fact. The Lasat of Lira San were his species, of course, but even in his brief time with them, he had known they were not truly his people. These were his people, and he had never thought to be surrounded by them again in life. Despite the fact that the sea of purple faces was swimming in and out of focus before his eyes, it was a peace he had never known.

But the peace vanished just as soon as they exited their docking bay.

As Kanan had predicted, a fierce battle had broken out between the Imperial personnel and the Lasat survivors. Difficult as it was, Zeb had to ignore the fighting around him in order to keep his focus from fracturing into a million irretrievable pieces. Tiri had nearly managed to get him to the bay they were aiming for when something he couldn't ignore pierced the hazy tunnel of his awareness.

Kal.

He heard the sound of his lover shouting as he engaged in a battle. Searching through the chaos that surrounded them, his unsteady eyes picked out Alex – Alex fighting Kar.

"Alex," he called out weakly.

"Please!" the former Imperial shouted, desperation bleeding through his attempts at anger. "Stop this! I don't want to fight you!"

"Does...does he not know?" Tiri wondered aloud.

At first he'd been looking for signs that it was just another performance, but Tiri's words made him realize what he was seeing, even on his own uncertain mental ground. He knew both men too well. He knew when they were and were not pretending.

They were not pretending right now.

"I told you I would kill you and I meant it!" Kar snarled, delivering a fierce blow with Zeb's own bo-rifle that Alex barely managed to hold back. "Not so cocky now we're not all in cells, huh?!"

"Kar!" Tiri tried to call out to him, but the other guard was too caught up in his fevered bloodlust.

"Please," Alex tried again, repelling his latest blow with a strike that at least managed to throw the enraged Lasat back a few meters. "You're his friend. Don't make me do this."

But Kar didn't listen. He roared in fury as he went at the human.

"KALLUS!" Zeb cried out.

He saw his Tinsana look in the direction of his voice, saw a tiny look of relief in those amber eyes when he saw him alive. For that smallest of frozen moments, he saw Alex smile.

But then he saw the split second when he chose not to defend himself. He saw Alex deliberately not raise his bo-rifle to block Kar's strike. And he saw Kar viciously drive a single yellow sparked pike into Alex's body.

A small eternity passed for Garazeb Orrelios in that moment – an eternity in which he had all the time in the world for the look of mildly shocked pain on his love's face to burn into the back of his eyes...to see his body convulse painfully with each jolt of electricity...to hear the tiny noise of pain that escaped his mouth...and to see the way he began to collapse when Kar pulled the bo-rifle free.

Zeb screamed when Alex fell. There was no being alive who would say he hadn't. Even so, it was a sound the Lasat had never made. Not in battle, not in sorrow, not when he had seen his own people gunned down around him. This scream was a sound all its own – a harrowing sound of denial and horror that those who heard it would lose sleep over in the nights to come for the utter terror contained within that broken scream.

Zeb didn't remember running to Kallus. He was vaguely aware of collapsing to his knees at his side, of using what little strength he'd regained to haul him out of sight behind a stack of crates. And he felt the coolness of his lover's touch as he reached up a gloved hand to touch his face.

"Zeb," he whispered, his voice tight with pain.

"K- Kal..." his voice broke on the word. There was no blood. There couldn't be. The injury had been completely cauterized by electricity. But that didn't mean the wound in his shoulder was any less horrific.

"I'm- sorry," he returned, attempting to brush away tears the Lasat hadn't been fully aware were falling.

"Idiot," Zeb hissed. "Always such an idiot."

"Please...go."

"Can't- I can't leave you. Don't ask me to leave you."

"Go...go, my love...g- go," Alex pleaded with him. "There's- no time. Go."

"I'm not gonna leave you here. Not like this...not here...Alex," he whispered in anguish, brushing a loose strand of hair from the former Imperial's face.

"2...22...45...92...999," Alex panted out the seeming random string of numbers. "R- remember it. You've got to- get out of here."

"Zeb, we have to go," Kanan's voice was suddenly in his ear.

"No," Zeb half-sobbed, still clinging to his Tinsana. "I won't leave you. La rokir rrazehan. An san ni Tinsana. Tinsana!"

"Zeb...oh, Zeb...please," Alex begged him, tears beginning to slip from his own eyes as he lifted his head to press his lips to Zeb's one last time. Then he was whispering against them. "La...La rokir...rrazehan."

"Ashla silir an. Ashla rever an. Velenir an azare bar," he whispered back, but the rest was a prayer for the dead and he couldn't bring himself to say it. Instead he simply offered up, "Sorrer an astyr revat falna bogtyl."

Grant you the strength to hold back the darkness.

"Zeb, if we take him with us now, he'll die," Kanan explained quietly and quickly. "He'll get better medical treatment with the Empire than he ever could with us. We have to go. Now."

Zeb nodded his understanding faintly. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. Pressing his forehead to Alex's one last time, he cried, "L'ashkerrir an. L'ashkerrir an."

"La sylf hasher an jital," Alex returned before losing consciousness altogether, going slack in Zeb's embrace.

He promised Zeb that, but Zeb couldn't promise him anything. All he could do was pray, never taking his eyes off of his lover as Kanan dragged him away.

Please...let me see him again. Let me see my love again. Just once more. Please!

Chapter Text

2, 22, 45, 92, 999.

Kanan repeated the numbers exhaustively in his head as he made for the bridge of the small freighter, sensing his way with the Force. Rex had made a clean getaway with the first freighter and Hera had sent Ezra and Jidu off with the second. She and Chopper had managed to slip through the orbiting security force before being stopped, but now the Strike Saber was hurtling toward that same force without much chance of a similar miracle. They wouldn't be able to outshoot or outrun anyone in this ancient bucket of bolts.

"Dunno how we're gonna get outta this one," he muttered as he moved. They were in clear and present danger, yet his thoughts remained fixed on those numbers.

2, 22, 45, 92, 999.

Kallus had given them those numbers and told them to remember them. He was badly injured, dying. It was possible the numbers were part of some delirium. Possible, but Kanan didn't think so. Even at the worst of times, Agent Alexsandr Kallus was level-headed and clear-thinking. There was a reason. With so little time and so desperate a situation, what would the former Imperial have taken such precious time to impart?

A way out, likely. But how?

"What have we got?" he asked as he stepped onto the bridge.

"They're hailing us," the voice of a young Lasat answered him. Jorrah, if he remembered correctly. The boy Alreitha had designated pilot if the need arose. And he could feel the former guardswoman's presence on the bridge, as well.

"Attention FX-0600 light freighter Strike Saber, Ahto City port has been placed under lockdown. No ships may enter or leave. Prepare to return to port or be detained."

"What are we going to do?" Zelina's voice came from behind him. Zeb and Shantiri were with her.

"Strike Saber, if you do not comply immediately, we are authorized to respond with deadly force," the voice on the other end of the comm stated in clipped Imperial tones.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Kanan muttered wryly, thinking.

"We will not go back," Alreitha stated, voice tight and imperious. "We will die upright, on our feet before our enemies before we ever go back in chains."

"Benu Inkana," Jorrah whispered.

"Strike Saber, your response?"

A way out.

"Jorrah, send back these numbers. 2, 22, 45, 92, 999," Kanan told the young Lasat.

He heard Jorrah tap out the response, and for a long, tense moment, there was nothing. Just the individual cadences of each person's breath. Alreitha, Jorrah, himself, Zeb, Shantiri, Zelina, and then Kar. But then the voice on comms responded, this time in a slightly higher tone.

"FX - 0600 light freighter Strike Saber...we acknowledge Imperial Security Bureau emergency override code. You are cleared for hyperspace. Proceed to coordinates."

"Acknowledged," Jorrah answered stiffly. As he proceeded to take them to hyperspace, the differing breathing patterns all coalesced into a single collective sigh of relief.

"We're out," Zelina breathed as the freighter went to lightspeed.

An emergency override code. Kallus was truly desperate then, to give them that. He would have to offer an explanation for it when he regained consciousness...if he regained consciousness...

He will. You've seen it. You know he will.

Even if he hadn't, the former Imperial was much too stubborn to die. Not while there was still a mission.

But maybe Zeb didn't know that.

He heard his friend roar in rage, felt the flare of his anger within the Force just a moment too late to step in, and heard the sound of him seizing his bo-rife from Kar as he threw him to the ground.

"Zeb, what are you doing?" Alreitha demanded, and Kanan didn't need to see to know. He could see the Lasat perfectly in his mind's eye, exactly as he'd seen him in his vision, standing above what he'd initially thought to be an enemy, bo-rifle poised to strike, his expression ravaged and terrible.

"Ka t'an sultira, zen bogal? An z'rrasat ni gereng, an or'sultir zer alrrazeh!" Zeb roared in a voice like thunder. "An shyrrer ru'unat ni Tinsana?! An shyrrer verat K'SAN NIVSAHN?!"

"T- Tinsana?" Kar repeated in shock.

"Kanan, what's happening?" Zelina asked him, voice firm, though he could still hear the kernel of pure terror beneath the facade. "What's he saying?"

"What have you done, lowest of the low? You so beneath my contempt, you have not even a name," Kanan repeated exactly, remembering the tortured words from his vision, though he spoke hardly a word of Lasana. "You dare touch my Bondmate? You dare hurt what's mine?"

"Zeb, he didn't know," Shantiri tried to placate him.

"Didn't know? Didn't KNOW?!" his friend repeated in rage. "He only had my scent all over him! Everyone else knew!"

"Maybe they did, but none of them saw what I saw," Kar responded, keeping his voice even. Kanan heard a sound that told him the other guardsman was shifting to his knees. "I saw that Imp enter your cell. I assumed- I thought he'd- done something to you you didn't want. When I caught your scent on him later, I thought that was why."

"You thought- he raped me," Zeb said in a stilted voice, understanding beginning to creep in.

"I did, and I would've done anything to avenge that hurt, but I was wrong. I will bear any punishment you deem fit, my captain."

"Wait- what? Why?" Zelina was asking, still not understanding.

"The Tinsahn Keeraw has been violated," Kar explained for all of them. "Among those who keep the Law, none but Garazeb, son of Orrelios, may lay claim to that one's soul...living or dying. The Tinsahn is the light of the soul, a sacred territory upon which no other being may intrude. There is no forgiveness," he said simply. "Only death."

For a long while, there was no movement on the bridge that Kanan could discern. But then he heard the distinct sound of Zeb collapsing his bo-rifle.

"You didn't know," the former captain finally conceded. "I can't blame you for tryin' to do right. You're my brother, Kar. I thought you were dead. I'm not gonna kill you."

Once again, Kanan felt that same collective sigh of relief pass through the group, the tension draining away and leaving them all suddenly exhausted.

"Well, today definitely hasn't been uneventful," Kanan finally got himself to say. "We could probably stand to calm ourselves down some. Alreitha, you should be resting. Same with you, Zeb. I honestly have no idea what's keeping you on your feet right now."

"Sheer animal stubbornness most likely," Kar answered with a small laugh as someone helped him up.

"Wouldn't doubt it," Zeb said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"And Zelina? I'm guessing several of our new passengers just might be in need of your medical expertise. Would you like to go and see what's what?" he asked the young Mandalorian, feeling like it was probably best to keep her busy and not thinking about everything that had just happened.

"Right. Of course. Would you all mind introducing me?" she asked the guardsmen, who all agreed. Once everyone had exited the bridge, Kanan could easily sense who the one remaining was.

"He'll be all right, Zeb," he reassured his friend, turning back to the Lasat to 'look' at him. "I've seen it. I've seen a vision of a time beyond this when he's recovered. He'll pull through."

"Yeah, but...aren't you the one who's always sayin' you can't rely on visions?" Zeb pressed. "What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not. Not about this. He won't leave you. You or Arkalia. So long as he has the pair of you to come back to, he'll keep fighting. He won't give up. We at least know that about Kallus," he said, making a small attempt at levity.

"Maybe so...but how much longer is he gonna have Arkalia to come back to?" Zeb muttered bitterly before stalking from the bridge, leaving Kanan wincing as he listened to him go.

The Jedi collapsed into one of the pilot's chairs with a frustrated sigh. It was true that, with this veritable colony of Lasat now in tow, they would have to be looking for opportunities to make the run to Lira San sooner rather than later. They'd raided many Imperial supply depots in preparation. He even knew Kallus had left them some tips on where food might be liberated from locations around Ahto City, which he hoped Hera and Rex had been able to follow up on. They were prepared, but even so, their supplies wouldn't last forever. Lira San was in their immediate future, no matter what, but...he did have to wonder if it was in Arkalia's.

They all loved the little girl as one of their own; there was no doubt. But there was also no denying just how dangerous their lives were, as evidenced by this very mission. It would be safer for the little kit, better, if they sent her to live on Lira San with the rest of her people. But was it only fear of that inevitable loss, that pain, that prevented Zeb from reaching out to claim Ari as his own? Or was it still the memory of little Kaya and her unknown fate that haunted him? The fear of failing another child?

Whatever it was, Zeb was going to have to figure it out and soon. Otherwise he and Kallus just might wind up losing the best thing that could happen to either of them...

...assuming they didn't lose each other first.

XxX

"Various contusions typical of close quarters fighting. Mild hypothermia from extended submersion in freezing water. Electrical burns from bo-rifle combat. His left shoulder shows signs of being realigned after a dislocation injury. The worst of them is the puncture wound above his right clavicle, which it seems he only survived due to his armor. Any lower and he would no longer be with us."

Thrawn listened to the med droid list off Kallus' injuries without comment, cataloguing the physical evidence of each wound as it was presented to him.

The badly injured ISB agent was currently suspended in a bacta tank, his face largely concealed by a breath mask. He had been stripped down to his black undershorts, leaving the worst of his wounds on display. It had been a near thing, but it looked that the man was going to pull through.

Ever since the business with Kuross and Manaan had begun, he'd been keeping an ear to the ground for word of either. Given Spectre Cell's interest in the subject and Kallus' ties to the Lasat people, it hadn't been all that difficult to deduce what was occurring in Zaniva's facility on Manaan; and though he found the whole project repugnant, he was not in service to the Empire for his personal feelings. He was in service to the Empire for a higher cause. Part of him had begun to wonder if Agent Kallus might be of use to that cause. After all, his ideals were somewhat more elevated than the Chiss had become used to seeing in the Empire. The man truly seemed to believe in building a better galaxy, and no one fought harder than a believer. Thrawn could grant the rebellion that, if nothing else. It drew believers to its flame almost effortlessly. The Empire did not have a great many believers, so he would have to take them where he could find them.

And a chief part of that was ensuring that the agent didn't get himself killed with his fanatical patriotism.

"How long would you estimate it was Agent Kallus went without medical attention?" he asked, directing the question not to the medical droid but to Doctor Archrem, one of the project's few surviving scientists.

The man's gaze had been focused on him, eyes calculating, assessing. The look of a scientist, certainly, but not necessarily one who was truly intelligent. Given his particular involvement with Zaniva, there was undoubtedly an interest in non-humans there. Likely even an obsession. Only briefly did his gaze flick to Kallus before returning to Thrawn.

"Twenty, maybe thirty minutes, I would guess. He was pulled to the side, likely by one of the troopers that was killed in the fighting, as we almost missed him in the aftermath. Thankfully, Ahto City possesses top notch medical facilities. Otherwise things might've ended poorly. But it seems your agent is a stubborn one."

"No one would contest that statement."

"Personally, I will be interested to hear how he escaped."

"Escaped, Doctor?" the grand admiral asked. "Was he a prisoner?"

"Not as such. We had trapped most of the insurgent cell in the control center, but when their Jedi friend created a distraction, they were able to turn on us. The Jedi bratling took Agent Kallus out. He seemed to be in bad shape, so we were forced to leave him behind when we sealed them inside the chamber. That was the last I'd seen of him before he was comming me to report Colonel Masaada's death. Then, of course, the fighting broke out and you see the result."

"And were you the one to realign his shoulder?"

"No. I wasn't actually aware he'd dislocated it. I would say we can only assume he forced the joint himself."

An impressive and unlikely feat, but not impossible, especially under extreme circumstances. If combat with a Jedi was involved, Thrawn didn't doubt there had been extreme circumstances.

"Assume, perhaps, but there may be other possibilities. We can only wait upon the agent to regain consciousness to know for certain."

"I wasn't aware this sting operation was of such importance to the Empire, to actually send the Seventh Fleet to follow up," Archrem commented, plainly fishing for information.

"Officially, the Seventh Fleet is not here at all. This is a personal initiative of mine. Many of Agent Kallus' assignments have been of a relation to my own ends in the Outer Rim territories. The operation had been on file with the fleet, but when its failure was reported, I brought along a contingent of my own to follow up."

"Do you suppose it might be possible for your fleet to track the whereabouts of my subjects?" the scientist pressed him. "We harvested only one truly useable crop of Lasat. The next is still undergoing conditioning."

"Such a thing would not officially be my fleet's business, but it seems to me that if we find the rebel fleet we've been searching for, we shall also find your wayward Lasat," he pointed out.

"That would be most appreciated. If you feel there's anything I might do for you in the meantime..."

Not anything he felt was truly important of course, but if there was a way to keep the man focused in the interim...keep his attention from drifting elsewhere...and maybe, ultimately, eliminate the need for Ash Warrior's earliest stages...

"Is there any truth to the rumor there was a Clone War era trooper involved in this mess?"

"There appears to be truth in that, yes. It's difficult to tell what capacity. The security recording of the incident is poor."

"And am I to understand the Kamino cloning process has never been successfully duplicated?"

"It has not. This project would be a great deal easier if it had," he said. Thrawn felt he'd learned the human voice pattern well enough to be able to identify the tone as exasperation, but he wasn't quite well versed enough to know whether that exasperation was from an inability to duplicate the science or at being compared to the scientists of Kamino.

"It has come to my attention that Zaniva has come into possession of a few clones. Perhaps their study may further the ends of your own project. After all, I imagine it would make things a great deal easier if you didn't have to concern yourself with the breeding process. I would say that is where you could best turn your efforts in the meantime."

Archrem's gaze shifted downward, his thoughts focusing inward. His heightened coloring, plus the rapid blinking of his eyes suggested to Thrawn that he'd embarrassed the human somehow – likely in suggesting he might enjoy that part of the project. But as the scientist thought, his expression firmed up, a thin smile curling his lips as some form of understanding lit his gray eyes.

"Yes, Grand Admiral...indeed. I believe you're right."

"Droid," Thrawn started in with the medical automata once again. "By your judgement, would it be possible to release Agent Kallus into the care of the Seventh Fleet's medical facilities?"

"By my judgement, I would wait an additional cycle to be certain of the agent's stability before moving him. This really was a near thing. But if he is still holding well tomorrow morning, I would see no problem with releasing him to your medical officer's care."

"Excellent. And now, Doctor, I believe you have a transfer request to put through."

"Absolutely," the human said as he left the medical suite, his mind clearly far and away from Manaan. The medical droid followed soon after, something about other patients to see to. This left Thrawn alone with the incapacitated ISB agent.

"I hope I am not wrong about you, Agent Kallus," the grand admiral said as he surveyed the agent, drifting steadily within the tank. "If you are prepared, you may be able to do the galaxy a great deal of good."

Dedicated and intelligent, that much he had observed of the human male, but he was also fairly certain there was something about him he had yet to discern. Perhaps keeping him aboard the Chimaera for a time would help him to pin down that final piece of information – convince the man to divulge the last of his secrets.

Because really, there was nothing Thrawn appreciated more than a good puzzle.

XxX

The moment the little Spectre family was back together aboard the Ghost, Kanan had encouraged Ezra to meditate on the events that had just transpired. Though his padawan had never been much of a hand at traditional meditation, he was at least pleased the younger Jedi had managed to get in about ten minutes before giving up and going to make friends among the Lasat they'd transferred from the Strike Saber to the Ghost. If there was one thing the boy didn't have trouble with, it was making friends, and in this case, perhaps that would be his meditation on the horrors he'd seen these people go through.

Kanan himself, though? He was still having trouble. After all, he had witnessed the final fate of these Lasat prisoners where Ezra had not, and he was glad of that much, but it didn't make it any easier for him to forget the feel of the minds of those young Lasat – gaping, consuming, hideous blanks. Nothing left of the souls they had once been. All that had remained was the need to fight, to obey orders. It was worse than anything the clones had undergone. They, at least, had largely been left their personalities. These people had been left with nothing. And the Empire would've kept on doing it if they hadn''t intervened.

"Typical Imperial Sith spit," he snarled below his breath.

"Kanan?" Hera's voice suddenly interrupted the ugly swirl of his thoughts. Pulling himself out of the tangled mental morass, he gravitated back to Hera's warm, solid presence entering the room.

"Hey, Hera."

"Still trying to make sense of it all?" she asked as she sat down beside him, the fact that he'd responded at all her invitation to join him.

"Something like that. I guess my head just gets stuck in a loop...thinking about something like that happening to Zeb or Ari...or Sabine or Ezra, even. I keep thinking about how easy it is for them to just- erase everything you are."

"Well, they're puppet masters. It's what they do. If nothing else, Rex should be able to help Zelina and the other medics start figuring out how to remove the chips."

"I haven't- told him about it yet. He took the whole Darth Vader thing so hard; I didn't want to put anything else on him," he said, leaning his head against hers.

"I get that. But you are going to have to let him know sometime, especially if we want his help," she pointed out.

"I know, but it's still gonna be like a punch to the gut for him, what this technology's being used for. Depending on when a chip's growth begins and...whether or not her parents really did escape from Manaan...it's possible even Ari might have one of those chips. He loves that kit so much, if she does have one, it would kill him. It kills me and we don't even know for sure," he ground out, and he likely would've kept rambling on were it not for the soothing hand Hera pressed to his knee.

"I know. I understand. I care about Lia, too. At this point, she's like one of our own. But the only thing we can really do is take this one step at a time. If it turns out Lia does have a chip, we'll remove it. Right now, I think it's probably better that we focus on helping all the other Lasat. We're going to need to get them relocated before we can launch the attack on Lothal. There are likely a few births we'll have to wait on; there are enough women in this group near enough to their time, I never would've taken them into space if I'd had literally any other choice. We're in for an interesting few weeks on Atollon. I'll say that much," the Twi'lek said with a sigh.

Kanan managed a laugh at her words. "It's a rebellion. When are things ever not interesting?"

"Mm, I'll grant you that one," she said, taking his hand in hers and twining their fingers together. "Though I can't name a rebellion in galactic history that was known for delivering babies."

"You've never thought about it, then?" Kanan asked her, suddenly feeling nervous. "Having a kid while the fighting's still going on?"

Silence reigned between them for several moments, the tension Kanan felt in his lover nearly leading him to attempt to laugh the question off. But then he felt that same something inside of her begin to ease as she relaxed deeper into his embrace.

"Honestly? Before Arkalia came along, I hadn't given it much thought. I'd always placed the idea firmly in the category of 'things to think about when the fighting's over'. But...the more I think about it, the more I realize that day might never come. Not in our lifetime, maybe. And- what are we fighting for if not to make a better galaxy for our children? I know it- might take a little more assisted technology when it comes to me and you, but...if something were to happen...I don't think I'd mind," she said, turning her head to the side to press a kiss to his shoulder.

Kanan felt something warm and unexpected blossom in his chest at her words. He would be lying if he said the thought hadn't been more and more on his mind since Arkalia had come into their lives, but to actually hear Hera say it out loud was something else entirely. And if honesty was the name of the game today, he would have to say that the idea of Hera's belly swelling with their baby stirred much more than just his heart. Leaning his own head to the side, he pressed a less than chaste kiss to the top of her right lek. "You can't imagine how much that makes me wanna try."

Hera chuckled lightly at his words, snuggling in that much closer. "Think you could get me pregnant in five minutes, Jarrus? Cuz that's how long you've got before my proximity alert sounds. Somehow I don't think even you are that good, fly boy."

"First time for everything, love," he teased, waving a hand to seal the door with the Force. "Do I have my captain's permission to attempt to put a baby in her belly in the next five minutes?" he asked as he knelt in front of her.

Hera laughed out loud at his antics. "You know what? Sure. I'll enjoy watching you try."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," he said, using the Force again. This time to undo the straps on her coveralls and draw the heavy fabric down her body. Hera gasped quietly at the display.

"You get exactly five minutes, though, sweet. The second that proximity alert sounds, I'm heading back to the bridge. Doesn't matter if you're balls deep in me, Kanan Jarrus. I will one hundred percent leave you hanging," she informed him, every bit the queen on her throne – his queen.

"So cruel. Had best not waste time then," he said as he pulled the coveralls down over her hips, followed quickly by her thin pants and scant panties. It was barely a moment before he had his face buried between her thighs on a path he knew well, laving the most sensitive part of her body with his tongue.

"What happened to- ungh...not wasting time?" she moaned, dipping her fingers down to clutch at his hair. "I'm- ha- failing to see how- oh, stars- ngh...getting me off- gets me pregnant."

"Mm...might not- get you pregnant," he groaned between mouthfuls of her, "but getting you off is never a waste of time."

Hera couldn't seem to muster words as he went even harder at her clit, alternating between the top and the bottom of his tongue. With every sound he drew from her lips, he felt himself growing just that little bit harder. Mostly he was just amazed she was letting him do this at all. It was much more spontaneous than he was used to from her. He supposed, like himself, she was feeling the need to indulge in true love-making – real sex – after witnessing the disgusting mockery Zaniva had made of it. Whatever the impetus was, he was not going to waste time questioning it. He was going to do the woman he loved hard and fast up against a ship's bulkhead.

His intent was rewarded several tongue thrusts later when the Twi'lek gave a little cry and her body began to spasm against his with the force of her orgasm.

"About two point five minutes for you," he estimated as he yanked the rest of her clothes off, leaving her in just her shirt and headgear. He only took as much time as needed to pull his stiff cock out, not bothering with any further clothing removal. "Gives me about two minutes to get you done."

"By all means," she groaned, attempting to hold onto the playful banter from earlier, despite how obviously blissed out she was. He took her invitation quite seriously, needing only a few seconds to pick her up and carry her to the opposite wall, pressing her up against it as he entered her.

They took only a moment to revel in the feeling of being joined before Kanan was moving, thrusting hard into her body over and over again. Though part of him would have preferred slow and gentle in this moment, their time was also limited, so quick and dirty would have to suffice. Kanan began to pant heavily when he felt Hera wrap her arms around his shoulders. They couldn't properly press their foreheads together with his mask still on, but they could still kiss very deeply as they moved together against the wall. Kanan was only vaguely aware of it when the proximity alert sounded.

"K- Kanan," Hera whimpered. "It's...it's the-"

"Just- a few more- seconds!" he grunted, thrusting as fast and as deep into her as he could. Then, all at once, he felt his body give, his orgasm claiming him as he half-collapsed against her, pinning her in place. For several moments, they both just held like that, feeling his seed pulse into her body. Hera hardly waited for him to finish to start disentangling herself from him.

"All right, Kanan, time's up," she said, though she was sighing happily the whole time she went about pulling her clothes back on. "I did warn you."

"Suppose you did. Just barely got it in in time," he said, unable to help reaching across to her to rest a hand on her flat stomach. "It'll probably take a lot more than just that, but there's always hope."

He could feel the way Hera's presence fairly glowed in his darkness as she rested her hands over his. He could also feel the smile on her lips as she leaned in for one last kiss.

"You'd better get used to quick and dirty then. The rebellion won't stop for us just because we may or may not be trying to have a baby."

"Oh, I'll do anything to get a moment alone with you," he told her.

"I believe it. I'm going to go pilot us down to Atollon now. And for stars' sake, would you please clean up before you even think about following me," she said on her way out.

"I'll manage it somehow," he called after her, taking that extra bit of time to wipe himself clean of both his and her slick fluids before tucking himself back into his pants and rejoining the galaxy, already much more pleased with it than he had been when he'd gone in for meditation.

XxX

Hera waited for the other freighters to emerge from hyperspace before making her descent into Atollon's atmosphere. Most women probably wouldn't have been able to stick such a perfect landing after being so thoroughly kriffed, but Hera Syndulla had never been most women. If anything, she would say she made the landing better, feeling like she was still glowing after Kanan's attentions to her body. She would have to do some research into human-Twi'lek compatibility at some point, but that could keep until later. For now, there were the Lasat to get situated.

Ezra had already made fast friends with Jorrah, and the two of them were surrounded by a gaggle of young Lasat as they exited the Ghost. Rex was helping Zelina lead a group of injured Lasat in the direction of the infirmary while other rebels moved in to greet the disembarking Lasat. One in particular rushed forward when Jidu exited the ship. Tsirhara.

The Syren quickly caught the young spy in a tight embrace, which Jidu readily returned.

"Are you all right?" the young pilot asked as she pulled back, suddenly shy again. "They said you'd been hurt."

Jidu waved her off with a smile and a nod. "I've had worse. I've probably broken every bone in my body at least once. Though," she started as she pulled the Syren in closer once more, "I am going to take that enthusiastic greeting as permission to continue where we left off."

Jidu was nearly a head shorter than Tsirhara, so there was something almost comical in watching her swallow nervously and nod, the tiny, delicate feathers that framed her face fluffing outward in a Syren blush. With an inviting smirk, Jidu drew the much taller Syren down into a kiss. Hera lost track of them after that, but she knew enough about desperate, hungry first kisses to guess where they would end up.

The next reunion she took note of was Wedge carrying Arkalia out onto the launch field. When the little one saw Zeb running toward them, she squealed with delight and launched herself away from the pilot, flying through the air briefly before Zeb caught her in his arms. Then the two of them were rolling around in the dust, Zeb tossing the little kit into the air before catching her with both hands and feet. Hera was quite certain most of the rebels still suffered heart attacks whenever Zeb did that, but Arkalia had never once been injured, so she was confident the former guardsman knew what he was doing.

"Oh. What a precious little girl," Alreitha said as she came up to them, hand resting over the swell of her own soon to be born child. "Is she yours, Zeb'aki'a?"

"Not- not like that, no," Zeb said, a dark pall descending over his face as he sat up with little Lia in his arms. "Kal found her...still alive after an Imperial raid on Alluria. She was the only one left. He got her out."

"No idea who her parents were?"

"No. I wasn't there and Kal wouldn't have known, but her name's Arkalia."

"Lovely," the older woman said, reaching out her free hand to stroke the fur under the kit's chin, which earned her a pleased purr in response.

"She'll be goin' home with you all...when the time comes," Zeb said quietly, keeping his gaze down, focused on his precious girl.

If the conversation continued after that, Hera wasn't aware of it. She, Kanan, and Chopper went to Sato to make their report on the mission.

"I wouldn't worry about Fulcrum. He's survived worse," Kanan said when they came to the end of the telling. "He'll report back in when he's able."

"Indeed. And what became of this datapad you retrieved from Masaada?" the commander asked them.

Chopper presented the datapad with a chirp and an annoyed whistle. Sato quickly took it in hand.

"Chop and I have been working on it, but we've had no luck. This thing has some serious encryption on it. Whatever it is, Schader Masaada didn't want anyone else to see it," Hera told him.

"We will just have to keep trying then. As for these Lasat-"

"The others are helping them set up a camp of their own, adjacent to the base. We knew there would be births to deal with. I'm just not sure we were prepared for the exact number. There are at least ten women only a week or two short of giving birth. So we'll need a few more weeks before we can lead them to Lira San."

"And we are prepared to handle all this?"

"We'll make it work...somehow," Hera said. "We owe these people that much."

XxX

"Mama!"

His mother's arms open wide to catch him as he runs to her, sobbing. Once he's safe in her embrace, he buries his face in her chest and cries for all he's worth.

"Oh, there now, my little meiloorun. Everything's all right now. What happened?"

"He hit me again," Alex sniffles, clinging to her. "M- Mama...why doesn't he like me?"

"I don't think he likes anyone, mei-mei. It isn't you," she says softly as she strokes his hair.

"Do- do I really hafta go with him?"

"I'm afraid so, my love. It's the only way you can have a life where you don't have to make these kinds of choices. I want that for you."

"But what about you?"

"I've had my happiness, mei-mei. The only joy left to me is to see that you find yours," she says, kissing the top of his head.

"Can you sing the love song?" he asks her, burrowing even deeper into her arms, trying to shut out the world any way he can.

"Of course, dear heart."

Now I know you're safe here in my heart

You will always be with me

We'll never be apart

Never knew how strong my love could be

You're the one I've waited for

Now you're home

I believe

Love survives beyond our lives

I feel those ties growing stronger

Love survives the tears we cry

Yes, love survives it all.

Love survives it all.

Even when we want to run and hide

Love comes in to pull us through

From deep inside

The magic has made us who we are

Don't you see we've come so far

Take my hand

You make me understand

Love survives beyond our lives

I feel those ties growing stronger

Love survives the tears we cry

Yes, love survives it all

Love survives it all

Then hard, uncaring fingers are prying him away from his mother. He screams and cries for her, but no one cares.

"Just remember, brat, this is nothing more than a favor to your mother. You are nothing to me. You are nothing."

And nothings die alone and unloved.

The water in the corridor is high enough that he has to swim through it now. Even during his survival training, he hadn't known water could get this cold. Even through his gloves, he's already beginning to lose the feeling in his fingertips.

Lights are shorting out all around him as the freezing temperatures overwhelm them. It won't be long before he's trapped in complete darkness. Summoning up a reserve of strength he'd been unaware he even had, he launches himself out of the water to grab for an emergency hatch on the ceiling, quickly wrenching it open and lifting himself through. There's only a very small trickle of water raining down on him as he climbs up. Shivering, he continues to run in the direction of the personnel bay, praying they haven't left yet.