Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zeb races toward the Glimmer of Hope as it lands along Endor's thick vegetation. After a hard won fight against the Empire -Zeb still can't fully believe they did it- and a beautiful wedding for General Organa and Solo, things have started to pick up again. Mon Mothma is sending teams out to inform the rest of the galaxy of Palpatine's end and restore some kind of peace agreement as quickly as possible.

All boring stuff Zeb doesn't really care about.

The familiar sight of Kallus makes Zeb's heart beat twice as fast, his arms already going to pull the human into a tight embrace. One that is just as eagerly returned, as Kallus laughs out his shock.

"I came as quickly as I could!" They pull away just enough to look at each other. "Zeb I...We did it! We actually won!"

"You bet we did!" Zeb grins. "Oh, you shoulda seen it, Kal! The shockwaves that thing sent out, I thought we were gonna crack into the surface! And then when Commander Skywalker confirmed the end of Palpatine- Oh, man! I haven't been able to stop the ringin' in my ears for days now!"

Of course, Zeb fully enjoyed the celebration after. He sang and danced with Hera, shared drinks with Rex, and even gave Chopper a big hug. The music didn't stop until the sun came up. It was like the liberation of Lothal all over again; only, their relief wasn't clouded with concern this time. There was no anticipation of another attack, no worry that this was just a single victory among hundreds more.

If they could defeat two Death Stars and the Sith creating them, then the rest of the Empire stood no chance.

Walking together, Zeb brings Kallus back to the main hub of things, letting him greet Hera, Jacen, Rex, and Chopper with just as much relief. He watches as Kallus gets pulled into new plans, giving ideas on how to find the rest of the Impirial Fleet without stretching their resources too thin.

Zeb waits for them outside, watching the Ewoks chatter and talk amongst themselves. He spots Commander Skywalker staring off at nothing again, like he did frequently during the celebrations. He assumes it's a Jedi thing, even if Kanan and Ezra never did it. Luke isn't the same as they were in almost everything he does. Well, perhaps aside from his calming nature and strong trust in the Force.

He misses them. Kanan and Ezra. Kanan's death still hurts to think about, to remember as he watches Jacen grow older and look more like his father. The pregnancy was difficult to say the least and while Hera had all of them for support, she still spent long nights crying in grief and frustration. Still does, from time to time. Zeb can only imagine it will get worse if -when- Jacen starts showing signs of Force-sensitivity.

And Ezra, as annoying and loud as the kid was, leaves a hole where he once stood. He's a mystery, one Zeb's long given up on in the years since he disappeared with Thrawn. Sometimes, when Zeb dares to approach those difficult emotions, he wonders if Ezra's still out there, waiting for them. If he died because they never looked.

"I hope I didn't keep you for too long." Kallus' voice pulls Zeb from his thoughts. The heavy mood still weights on his shoulders, but he's able to clear his mind of it easily. Kallus tends to do that. "If I recall, there was something you wanted to speak to me about?"

Oh, right. Zeb completely forgot he mentioned it. Looking away, Zeb tries to push his anxiety down. "Yeah, uh...Since the war's over and all, I was wondering if you...well, I just wanted to know if you had...plans."

Kallus blinks at him, then his expression turns hopeful. "I do, actually."

Zeb really does try to keep the disappointment from his face, but his ears fall regardless. "Oh. Uh, what are they?"

"There's someone I've longed to see again. My mother." Kallus' voice goes soft, a smile playing on his lips. "She lives on Coruscant and now that we're taking the planet back, I'd like to visit her."

Somehow, Zeb never really thought that Kallus had a mother. Or a family, for that matter. He just assumed...well, that the former ISB agent was so married to his work that he never made time for anything else.

He tries to think of something encouraging to say, but Zeb ends up just lamely replying, "Oh."

To his credit, it makes Kallus laugh. "What? Surprised I have living relitives?"

"Well..." Zeb evades the question. "So, you'll be goin' to Coruscant? I'm sure it'll be nice to go home." He didn't mean it to sound...like that. And when Kallus' smile falls, Zeb scrambles to fix it. "Ah, Coruscant must be very different now! I'll bet it's beautiful! All the speeders and lights-"

"Thank you, Zeb, but you shouldn't sugar coat it. We might've made peace with Lasan, but I know it's effects will always be at play. It's unfair that you have no home to return to and I do."

"I have the Ghost."

Kallus gives him a tired look. "We both know it's different."

Yeah, they do.

And yet, Zeb knows it's not entirely true either. He does have somewhere to go, now. A place with other Lasats, where he's welcome to stay and live for as long as he'd like. Possibly until he grows old.

"I wanted to show you something." Zeb finally says, his anxieties gone. "Remember that star cluster we disappeared into?"

Kallus' eyebrows furrow, his lips twisting in thought. It's a cute expression, one not entirely different from the frown he constantly held as an agent. "Star cluster...I can't recall it."

Zeb shrugs. "Figured you wouldn't." That was in the height of their rivalry. Actually, it wasn't very far from their crash on that moon, when everything changed for them. "There's something out there, something I'd like to show you."

The surprise on Kallus' face is like a flipped coin. "Really? Why? What is it?"

It pulls a chuckle from Zeb. "You'll find out when we get there. If you wanna come, that is. We could wait 'til after you see your mom. Or if Mothma's got you booked-"

"Oh, I'm going." Kallus tells him. "You have me curious, now. I want to see this through." Cute. So very cute. "And...perhaps we could make a trip of it. Take the Glimmer out to Coruscant, then to that cluster. Could stop a few places along the way, too, if you'd like."

Zeb pauses, unsure if what he's implying is really true. "Wait, are you sayin' you want me to come with you?" To meet his mother, then to stay with him up until the surprise?

Together. Alone.

Kallus goes red, something Zeb's learned is normal for humans. Especially Kallus. "I hoped you would. But, of course, I could go to Coruscant on my own and-"

"No!" Zeb shouts, perhaps a little too loudly. A few rebels stare up at him from across the tree fortress. "Ah, no. No, I'd like to come."

"Alright." Kallus smiles, something small and beautiful. "Give me a few more days to settle things with the Intelligence Division and we can head out."

Just a few days and they'd be off together. Zeb can't wait.

Kallus' hands shake as he rings the bell, his weight passing between his legs. He's anxious, that much is obvious to Zeb; though, it's unclear why exactly. Did Kallus and his mother part on bad terms? Will she disapprove of a non-human arriving to her doorstep? Or maybe it's simply because of the time. Fve years is a long time to go without contact.

When the door opens, revealing the woman, Zeb finds himself surprised. He's not exactly sure what he expected -maybe someone tall and stern, a woman just as intimidating as the agent once was- but what greets him is a short, plump woman. Her hair is a mix of grey and light brown, the frail strands tied back into a loose bun. In her hand is a lovely cane that supports most of her weight and is likely the cause of the arch in her back. Her eyes are sharp as she looks between them. Then, they water as she looks at her son.

"Sasha?!" She gasps, stumbling forward to reach for him. She has the same Coruscant accent, but more strained and higher pitched. To Zeb's surprise, Kallus almost entirely melts into her embrace, holded in half as he is to reach her. "Oh, Sasha." She pats his back, then begins pulling him inside. "Sit, sit!"

Awkwardly, Zeb follows them, still unsure if he's even allowed. But, she doesn't stop him from sitting down as well, her eyes now filled with warmth as she moves around her kitchen, pulling out a plate of sandwiches.

Then, her cooing continues. "Oh, Sasha, I was so worried! I know you hardly get much time for shore leave, but you're never gone for this long! And did you hear the news?! The Emporer-"

"Yes, I heard." Kallus nods, his expression somber. "Mother...I don't know how to tell you what I've done over these years. So much has happened."

"I don't care. Just tell me, plain and simple." Something passes between the two, like a secret. Zeb tries not to wiggle too much from his discomfort.

With a sigh, Kallus tells her the full truth. He admit to joining the rebellion and the bounty placed on his head for defecting. He also mentions meeting the Ghost Crew and even introduces Zeb as "one of the best people he's ever had the honor of knowing". All throughout the explaination, Kallus' mother stays silent, her face never changing. Then, when the room goes quiet, she nods to herself.

"You know, Cassy said something similar. About the Empire being power hungry. I didn't want to believe her, not after what happened to your father..." She shakes heer head, her lips shaking as she looks at them with teary eyes. "She said they were forcing the farmers into working for almost no pay. Said they were losing their homes and starving out in the fields. I didn't believe her until I saw how thin she got too. I..." She shakes her head.

Kallus sits forward, taking her hands into his. "Is Cassy alright?" He sounds eager to know, almost desperate.

"Yes, yes, she's fine. Had to leave Andara for a little while. Lara too. Things just kept getting worse, more of your siblings had to stay here for safety and then you lost contact and-" She stops. "I should've known. The Jedi were never evil. I should've known..."

Neither speak for a long moment, their hands locked together in silent comfort. Then, when the old woman has gathered herself, she manages a small smile.

"You're here now." She squeezes Kallus' hands, then lets go. "You're here and I have a garden that's in need of help." She points outside, to a room Zeb hasn't noticed until now. It looks like just another room at first glance, but after a moment, Zeb can see rows of plants growing under a glass cieling. There are beautiful flowers around the walls and various herbs and vegetables in the middle.

"Of course." Kallus nods, getting up almost immedietly. "Tools are still in the closet, I assume?" He goes to said closet, already pulling on a pair of worn gloves.

"Yes, it should all be there. And if you would, I'd like to plant some more of those muja fruits." She speaks to Zeb directly for the first time. "They make wonderful cakes."

Kallus stops, a glare thrown her way. "I thought you weren't allowed to eat muja." He accuses. "Doctor's orders."

To Zeb's amusement, the woman glares right back. "They're for the neighbors, not me. And maybe your sisters too, if they come by to visit soon."

The glaring contest doesn't let up. "Oh, really? And I suppose it wouldn't be horrible if you snuck a few bites between then?"

"Oh, kriff off! I'm not making it another ten years, I might as well enjoy it!"

Kallus rolls his eyes, now making his way to the garden room. "I'm sure you'll feel the same when you're bedridden because you're too stubborn to listen to a professional."

"Yes, the same professionals that told me I was having a fourth girl!" The woman scoffs. Her face softens when Kallus leaves, those intense eyes now trained on Zeb.

He swallows.

"Now, why don't we meet properly. I'll start a kettle and then," She pulls an expression Zeb's seen from Kallus before. One both smug and devious. "We'll look through my holo albums."

Zeb holds back a snort as he watches a young Kallus sob and cry at the idea of waiting for his birthday cake. It's embarrassing, humiliating.

Zeb loves it.

"Oh, he was just the cutest two-year-old!" Barith -Kallus' mother- coos as she watches the holovid. "Always wanted to play with his older sisters."

The next vid is of Kallus' three sisters: Casandra, Lara, and Vrillian. They're arguing over toys, each of them the same bright blonde. Then, it pans over to the side, showing their baby brother locked away in a prison of laundry baskets. He's got his arms crossed in a pout, making just about the cutest display Zeb has ever seen.

"Did they lock him up often?" Zeb asks once he can trust himself not to burst out laughing again. He watches as the girls eventually change their game and play with the stuffed animals laid around them. They're arranged in what looks to be some kind of wedding.

The drama starts when a stuffed bantha objects, proclaiming his love to the groom.

"Too often." Barith admits with a wince. "He just tended to play too rough with their dolls. The girls would get mad and threaten him until he either backed off or they followed through. I made sure no harm was done but..." The woman sighs. "I do wish I did more. It might've saved their teen years."

Zeb can understand. Although they weren't related by blood, Ezra and Sabine have always been his siblings. Even in those early months when he couldn't stand the young Jedi or his weird habits, he still saw Ezra as his little, annoying brother.

He also regrets being too harsh on him.

The next holovid starts shaky, like a child is recording. That observation is confirmed when Lara peeks into view, her face nearly covering the entire film. A hand pushes her away and Cassy sets the recorder down. Then, she stands on top of their dining table and begins to sing. The next few minutes go by as Lara and Cassy fight for the center stage, both trying to sing different songs and ending in an arguement. Just when Zeb thinks this will go on forever, young Kallus runs across the camera, something held in his hands. Then, Vrillian comes running after.

"Those are mine!"

"Nuh uh!" Kallus shoots back, somehow managing to keep her from wrestling the object away. "Mama said to share!"

"And you're not sharing!" She stomps in frustration, a whine in her voice. "Give it back now!"

Lara gasps as she realizes what they're fighting over. "I wanna cookie!"

Vrillian's anger is overshadowed when Cassy shoves the three of them out of the camera's view. "I'm trying to sing! Go away!"

The whole mess ends in someone getting pinched, crying, and then a young Barith coming to deal with the problem.

Zeb can't breathe from how hard he's laughing.

"Ka-karabast!" He gasps, holding his sides. It hurts, how hard he's laughing, but he can't stop. This is well beyond just embarassing, this could be straight up blackmail! He only wishes Sabine were here to see it too. She'd never let Kallus live this down.

When Kallus returns from the garden, his hands covered in dirt and his shirt wet with sweat, the video is of a Life Day morning, where all four Kallus siblings are sleeping together on the couch. It's a rare moment of peace.

"It's good I got to those Pika when I did. Another day and they would've started to rot-" Kallus freezes, his gaze locked onto the holovid. His easy smile turns down into a shocked frown. "What are you watching?!"

Zeb can't help it. He bursts into laughter all over again.

"Mother!" Kallus gasps, snatching the holoprojector from the table. He's bright red, but that could easily be because of his work in the garden. "You can't show him these!"

Barith reaches up for it half-heartedly. "Oh, please, Sasha. We didn't even get to see the Tooth Wookie one!"

"Tooth Wookie?!" Zeb sits forward, still gasping for breath. "Now that I gotta see!"

"No! Absolutely not! I should've known better than to leave the two of you alone!" Kallus sets the bag of fresh produce on the kitchen counter, his scowl pretty close to that pout from before.

"Come now, Sasha." Barith tries to sooth. "I got to show Lara's wife! Why can't I show your boyfriend?!"

That makes both of them freeze. Zeb's stomach turns uncomfortably and he reaches back to scratch at his raised neck fur. Kallus is angled away from them, his expression a mystery. "We aren't boyfriends!" Kallus defends, his tone unreadable past the surprise.

Is he disgusted? Would the idea of dating Zeb be laughable? Or maybe...maybe there's still hope.

Zeb has no idea.

"Really?!" Barith's genuine confusion doesn't help. "No, I swear you are! Why else did you bring him?"

"We're just traveling togther, Mother. Nothing more than that."

Nothing more? Zeb shuffles, looking down. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. What if Kallus refuses his offer to live with him on Lira San? What if it just makes things awkward before Zeb goes off to live the rest of his life among the Lasat?

The thought of never seeing Kallus again makes him sick, but so does roping him into a life together.

Something crosses Barith's expression and she nods slowly. "Fine. I apologize for assuming." She doesn't sound entirely honest, at least not to Zeb. "Then, where else are you traveling to? You've never wanted to settle here in Coruscant."

With the topic mostly changed, Kallus seems to relax, now washing the fruits he picked. "I'm not entirely sure. But when I do settle, it won't be here. I'm sorry, Mother."

Barith shakes her head. "No, don't be sorry. I learned my lesson with Cassy. I can't force you to stay where you don't want to." She look to Zeb. "Just promise to visit more then once every five years."

While it might've been meant for Kallus, Zeb still smiles back at her. "I promise. If for no other reason than to see that Tooth Wookie vid." He whispers the last part.

"I'm counting on it." She whispers back.

As Coruscant's rotation cycle ends, they run out of reasons to stay. While Lira San can wait, there aren't exactly enough rooms for Zeb and Kallus to sleep over. Not without sharing a bed, that is.

Stepping out of the door, Kallus pauses to hug his mother again. "You could come with us, you know. I have a space on the Glimmer."

Barith refuses without hesitation. "Your father might've loved the Republic, but he loved this place more." She strokes the door frame gently, as if her late husband's soul lay within. "I can't leave without leaving myself here too."

Kallus nods in understanding, their embrace lasting a moment longer before they break apart. To Zeb's surprise, he's offered one as well.

"It was an honor to meet you, Garazeb." She pats his back. "And thank you for helping my Sasha. I don't know what I'd do if he went down with the Empire."

Not sure how to respond, Zeb decides to stay quiet. He pulls away and exchanges a smile with Kallus -his eyes shine so beautifully in the sunset- before they finally leave for the Glimmer.

Zeb only relaxes once he's settled into the co-pilot's seat, his large fingers punching in coordinates for their next destination. "Now, to Lira San." He smiles, already excited again for this little surprise.

Although he worried over the human's reaction before, Zeb has regained his confidence. Even if they don't live there together, it'll be nice to give Kallus some peace of mind. And who knows, maybe he'll agree.

Maybe they'll grow old together.

Kallus raises an eyebrow. "Where?" He asks, just as they shoot into hyperspace.

"You'll find out." Is all Zeb tells him.

Chapter Text

Kallus glares at Thrawn through his ever-present helmet. The other Chiss isn't looking at him, his mind l likely on more important things than a member of his own species.

It's not fair. Why do they let Thrawn show off his skin like this, allowing his unnatural eyes to meet theirs? Why isn't he forced to wear a helmet that will disguise any and every feature that isn't human?

Why has Kallus had to hide the fact he's Chiss when another commands respect with nothing more than a smooth word? Like he's just another Imperial human.

He has to leave Governor Pryce's side when his will to keep quiet, to follow his orders, gets thinner and thinner. He retreats to his personal quarters and only once he's sure the door is locked does he remove his helmet.

His eyes adjust to really seeing first, then his breathing evens out, no longer filtered through his mouthpiece. The helmet has left lines against his cheeks and forehead where they protrude more than normal. The pale body paint on his lower jaw and neck itches, but he's grown quite used to that sensation.

It doesn't help his anger, being alone like this. Now, he can only think of the face paint Thrawn doesn't have to pay for every shore leave. Or that he won't be spending every meal hidden away in his barren quarters, trying to find out if this is really all worth it or not. If he really wants to follow the Empire and what he thought they stood for, or if the new information he's dug up about Geonosis is enough to make him commit treason. Again.

He stops, taking a slow breath. He knows his anger is misplaced, and that he shouldn't continue pointing it at the wrong people. Because although Kallus is angry that Thrawn is given every privilege he was never awarded, the fact that they're both non-humans in an oppressive Empire doesn't escape him. He's read the reports on Thrawn's -honestly painful- climb to power. Every court-martial, every reprimand, and scheme to try knocking the Chiss down. It all read of how incredibly talented Thrawn is and how much easier that journey would've been if he weren't blue.

And he does have to admit, it was slightly relieving to see a cooler body temperature, like his own. His slightly infrared vision makes Thrawn immediately stand out, just as other non-humans tend to.

Like Zeb.

It helped Kallus many times over his years in the Imperial Security Bureau. He could identify hidden objects before they had a chance to be used. It made fighting in smoke or crowded areas much easier to traverse. He often caught Bridger in the air ducts, and Syndulla too -when she bothered to leave her ship-, as Twi'leks are naturally higher in body heat when relaxed.

Or, once again, Zeb. Lasats are quite interesting in the infrared. Their body heat mostly circles their inner organs and head, but there are larger patches around their feet and hands. They also have two hearts, to help blood circulate as they climb or in the cold.

Kallus bites at his lip, recalling how Zeb looked at him on Bahryn. At some point during their crash, Kallus had lost his helmet and when the Lasat realized he isn't human, he sort of...stared. Then his ears twitched and he went right back to arguing over their shaky truce.

Maybe it's a given, being treated like an equal to another non-human; but to Kallus, it felt special. Like Zeb had no issue with his blue skin or red eyes. He didn't mock or sneer at his features, not like how Kallus had mocked Zeb's.

And despite their rivalry, despite Kallus being the reason Zeb has no home or Honor Guard to return to, the Lasat kept him warm against the terrible blizzard. He offered the Chiss their only source of heat, a glowing stone that now sits beside Kallus' bed.

It was so overwhelmingly kind that Kallus didn't bother mentioning the Chiss are native to ice planets and he wouldn't likely freeze to death from only a day in that snowstorm.

Kallus only realizes he's flustered and purple when he sees himself in the side mirror. Slipping his helmet on again -whether to hide from the world or himself, he isn't sure- Kallus stands and returns to the brightly lit halls.

He can control the way he reacts to those memories. He can ignore the thumping of his heart and the smile that tries to pull at his lips again and again; the taste of 'Garazeb' on his tongue.

But the feeling of disgust at the Empire, his desire to just do something won't be pushed aside.

Not anymore.

Kallus hangs beaten and bloody in Thrawn's office, his wrists numb from the constant pressure of his cuffs.

Of course Thrawn knew about Fulcrum. He'd likely picked up the pieces easily, far more so than Kallus expected him to. And to ambush him right as he was going to warn the rebels on Attalon just rubbed the fact in; Thrawn will always be superior.

Still, the repeated beatings were perhaps a little overboard.

"I will admit, finding another Chiss in Lesser Space was...unexpected." Thrawn says, his tone rich with awaited victory. He exposed the rebel base as if it were child's play and now has set them on course to attack directly.

It's entirely and completely Kallus' fault.

"I was under the impression that my arrival to the Empire was a first. The Emporer certainly acted as such, as well as every commanding officer I encountered."

Kallus just glares at him. He has nothing to offer Thrawn. There are no angles the man can poke at that will make him spill secrets. He was specifically trained against this.

Thrawn walks forward smoothly, his eyes glowing in the dim light. "When I confirmed you as the rebel spy, I was...perturbed. I could not rationalize why a warrior would betray his purpose. How could your treachery benefit the Ascendency?"

Something sinister grows between them, like a secret kept from even the most powerful of the galaxy.

"I then realized that you do not serve the Chiss at all," Thrawn speaks Cheunh. The language alone makes Kallus shiver. "You, Xodlak'allu'sasha, were among the six Xodlak families that fled Sharb. There was an agreement between the family patriarch and the Grysks to gain them power they once had, when they were a part of the Ruling Nine.

"Given your current age and rank in the Imperial Security Bureau, you were very young when you came to Lesser Space. Likely ten or twelve. Then, as the Clone Wars came to an end and anti-alien propaganda spread, you were forced to look for help from Colonel Yularen. He sent you to his own division and so long as you hid your nature, you were allowed an equal chance in the Empire."

All Kallus can do is stare. He knew Thrawn was good, better than anyone else Kallus has encountered, but this...

"Of course," Thrawn continues. "Certain details still evade me. For example, I do not know how you came to be so close with Colonel Yularen in the first place. Was it a favor to your poor, elderly mother? Perhaps your older sisters made the agreement? Or...this could be a similar agreement to my own; Information for service."

Kallus hangs his head again, defeat tasting far more rotten than it had before. At least before, he could die thinking he had a small victory. He could've kept his history for himself.

But now, Thrawn knows. Even without the most secret of files, the Grand Admiral can easily find out every last detail about Kallus' origin. Thrawn can pick his mind apart until there's nothing left but the glowing heat left behind from Bahryn.

It's panic that pulls Kallus' ISB training back into gear. He tries to recall every file he's found on Thrawn, every detail he gathered or word spoken.

When an idea hits him, Kallus lets out a weak laugh. Two can play this game of wits.

Thrawn stops in his pacing, his head turned slightly in confusion. "What amuses you?"

The smile doesn't leave his face as Kallus looks up again. Red eyes meet. "You really are bad at politics, aren't you?" The staring match continues, but something changes in Thrawn. A slight decrease in heat around his face. "You may have the facts, but you don't know how to use them. Not in a way that matters."

The Grand Admiral begins pacing again. "Explain."

"You could've exposed me as a Chiss to Governor Pryce or Tarkin, but you didn't. To you, I am an asset that you need to understand. That's why I'm still alive now, isn't it?"

A frown. "I did reveal to them your nature. Governor Pryce and Colonel Yularen were among the very first to know."

"My nature as a rebel perhaps, but not as a Chiss." Kallus takes a breath and hopes he's right. "You wanted to see if I would join you. Having a mole in both the Empire and Rebellion would be useful to the Ascendency.

"But you don't see the larger picture. If those humans see two Chiss together, they will assume we are the same. Even if you were to expose me publicly and reveal every single detail you know concerning my origin, they would be suspicious. Not even death may be enough."

Thrawn stays quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping idly against his desk. Then, he moves to leave. "It's clear to me now that no agreement can be made."

Before the door can close behind him, Kallus speaks again. "They aren't so different, the Chiss and humans." He can't see Thrawn behind him, but the sound of footsteps has stopped. "You just traded one Empire for another."

"...I will enjoy having your company on the bridge once we arrive. If all goes as planned, then the rebellion will be swiftly destroyed. Then, you may join them." The office door hisses closed, leaving Kallus alone.

The Ghost isn't exactly safe, but at least the immediate danger is gone.

Kallus leans against the far wall within the cargo bay. He's tried to avoid the other rebels as much as possible, but there's only so much room.

At least they don't recognize him. His uniform may be the same; but without his helmet, Kallus could be anyone, really. Only he knows the truth.

It both fills him with relief and sick guilt. Ignorance is more comfortable but they should know who they're standing next to. They should frown upon him, judge his crimes. He deserves-

Kanan walks toward him, not stopping for a moment as he comes closer to his target.

Kallus speaks first, fear gripping his heart tightly. "Thank you, Kanan. For taking me in." His gratitude is genuine but he knows his life is in their hands fully. If they decide he's not worth the effort of keeping, they could easily blast him out of the airlock and no one would argue. Not even him.

A hand lands on his shoulder, firm but warm compared to the dread that fueled Kallus' escape. "Thank you for risking everything," Kanan says, his voice just as rich. Friendly.

It's entirely foreign to the Chiss.

With a nod, he lets the Jedi continue on, attending to other rebels and distributing blankets as they're needed. He refuses any help offered to him, preferring to stay standing in his corner; away from everyone else, and able to watch for sudden movements.

No one bothers Kallus for a long while, the groans of pain and the smell of sterile wipes lying just in the background. He doesn't let himself think, scared of how he'll react with so many people around. His brush with death has left him shaky and weak, his bad leg aching as badly as his sore wrists.

He almost regrets refusing that tube of bacta. Almost.

"Kallus!" Zeb's voice echoes through the cargo hold, the patter of Lasat feet storming afterward until strong arms are wrapped around Kallus' frame, squeezing much tighter than he expected.

The Chiss tenses, his instincts kicking in as he goes to break the hold, only for his legs to give out. He goes limp in Zeb's arms.

"Woah, hey!" Zeb's ears lay flat as he repositions them into a better hold, more for support than hugging. "Karabast, you look bad. Did Thrawn-"

"Please don't." Kallus closes his eyes, the very thought of Thrawn making his stomach turn. "Not...not right now."

Kallus feels Zeb nod, that purple beard brushing against his slicked-back hair. The few strands that have broken free are smashed between them, tangling with each rise and fall of their chests. The sound of Zeb's vibrations soothe the panic that-

Blinking one eye open, Kallus frowns. "What are you doing?"

The rumbling stops. "Uh, I was purring. It helps calm ya down."

Kallus vaguely recalls Zeb doing the same thing back on Bahryn when they were huddled under a rock, waiting for their rescue. "Why...how do you do it?" Kallus asks, only a little appreciative of the overwhelming calm he feels pass over him as the purring continues.

"Well, I kinda...vibrate my throat? Here, feel it." Zeb moves both of their hands to touch his neck -Kallus ignores how his heart picks up- and he purrs louder this time. The vibrations are stronger and they pass almost all the way down his chest.

To Kallus' surprise, a purr comes from him too. It stops as soon as he speaks. "I wasn't aware I could do that."

Zeb grins down at him, also pleasantly surprised. "Guess ya learned somethin' new." Their vibrations mix until they're the same frequency; a deep, low roll. It's like thunder from a distant storm.

For the first time in a while, Kallus feels completely safe.

Safe, and home.

Chapter Text

Hera leads them through the plan again, trying to patch any holes they can find. This will be their stand to liberate Lothal, their push to finally get that ugly dome out of Ezra's home and as far away as they can manage. It's difficult. Extremely so. Sabine and Kestu continue to worry over their firepower and if they'll have enough. The clones weren't able to gather enough uniforms for everyone, forcing another person out of the main group. There's a security detail they forgot, a patrol route someone can't remember. And of course, Pryce is absolutely useless in this all.

It's too much and as soon as Hera calls off for a much-needed break, Zeb finds himself tucked away from their main camp, his shoulders tense and his ears twitching at every sound.

Once he's managed to make it a good half-mile from their base, Zeb finally lets himself breathe out. It turns into a sob at the end, one he cuts off quickly.

"No point," Zeb mutters to himself, his claws clenching and unclenching over and over again. "Stand up for your people. Stand for Lasan. There's no time for the past." He speaks the words almost without thinking. Years may pass, but it seems he'll never forget the Honor Guard.

He had his chance to feel bad about Kanan. He held Ezra and Sabine as they cried freely. Pryce's bucketheads got the beating they deserve and that's enough.

He just has to convince himself he believes it.

"Zeb?" Zeb jumps, a shout escaping him as he rounds on the intruder, bo-rifle ready to strike- only to stop at the sight of Kallus. The man doesn't even flinch as he stares back. "Zeb, why are you out here? It's not safe."

Lowering his weapon, Zeb attempts to relax his muscles. "Could say the same about you." He mutters, irritation laced through his voice. It's a deflection and they both know it.

Kallus steps forward with that strange look again, only stopping once they're side-by-side. Then, with their new proximity, Kallus' voice takes on a deeper, softer tone. Something usually gentle for the ex-imperial. "Hera told us about Kanan. I was...shocked. We all were, even Hondo. Zeb I...I can't imagine the pain-"

"It doesn't matter." Zeb stops him, turning away just enough to hide his face, the way his lip threatens to wabble. He can't have this conversation. Not with Kallus. "It already happened. It's done."

"But you still feel it." Kallus says, leaning closer. A hand reaches up but stops just short of touching. "I can see how it's affected Ezra and Hera. Sabine's movements have been stiffer as well. Her is temper less controlled. But they have been talking about it. Mostly to you, I've found." When Zeb doesn't respond, Kallus continues. "Zeb, you're their shoulder to cry on. It's honorable and I would never wish you to be anything but loving toward your family but...I worry."

Zeb turns on him, the irritation growing into full anger. "Well don't! I don't need yer worryin'!"

Again, Kallus doesn't flinch. "I'm not worrying because I feel you incapable. I'm worried because I care."

"Yeah, right." Zeb scoffs, pushing back the urge to just hit something. "You care so much." He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore, just as long as it gets Kallus to leave. Hurt him enough to get him defensive. Push him away so he won't look at Zeb like...like that.

They stand there in uncomfortable silence, neither moving closer nor farther apart. Eventually, Kallus lets out a defeated sigh and turns to walk away, sending a lump to Zeb's throat. It's what he wanted, so why does he feel so-

A leg swipes Zeb's feet out from under him and he falls into Kallus' lock, arms twisted and body strained. Then, once the bo-rifle has been taken from off Zeb's back, the human stands a foot away, his prize in hand. "Wha-"

"If you want this back, then you'll have to fight me for it," Kallus tells him, his expression hard. Serious. "Or, you can admit defeat now...Lasat." His voice is spoken as Agent Kallus, but his posture and eyes show his true intention. That care he spoke of before.

Zeb sits up with a scowl, his mood souring even further. "Give it back, Kal. I'm not in the mood." He tries to make a swipe for the rifle but it's pulled away easily.

"I won't go easy on you, Rebel." Kallus begins to circle him, the bo-rifle extended in taunting. "Get up and fight, or prove you're a coward."

Growling, Zeb stands properly. He makes another grab but Kallus sidesteps. A third attempt is just as useless. "Kallus!" He roars, his chest puffing as the fur along his spine raises. He tries to push down his anger, tries to control it but-

"How do you expect to defeat the Empire when you can't even best a single agent?" The human stops, a challenge in his eyes. "Fight me!" He demands.

Zeb lunges, his claws grabbing firmly on the barrel of the rifle. He pulls it toward himself but Kallus keeps a firm grip. Another leg tries to throw Zeb to the floor, but he blocks with his own, now aiming to back the human against the nearest rock.

The fight is more a clumsy tumble than anything, but it releases Zeb's aggression. He doesn't need to hold back against Kallus, doesn't worry about his claws or teeth. He's able to fight back with his full power until it leaves him panting and tired. Only once his growl has settled more into a grimace does Kallus let go of the bo-rifle, declaring Zeb the winner.

Though, it sure doesn't feel like winning, not when he falls to the ground and sobs.

When Kallus kneels beside him, once rough hands now gentle as they soothe the fur on his shoulder, Zeb leans into the touch. "I knew this fight wouldn't be easy," Zeb says, his throat tightening almost to the point of choking him. "I never thought we were invincible but...we made it this far. All of us survived this long! Why now-" He sucks in an unsteady breath.

Kallus leans on him fully now, their jaws rubbing together nearly by accident. He smells like dirt, sweat, and blaster fuel. So different from the Imperial he was.

"He wasn't done yet! Ezra still needs a teacher and Hera...we still need him! We need him, Kal!" Zeb swallows, his eyes falling closed as his guilt seeps into his soul. "Maybe if I went with 'em, we all coulda gotten out. Or...or it coulda been me-"

"That would be no better, Zeb. You're important too-"

"But I'm not doin' anything!" His teeth grind together. "I'm not teachin' anyone! I didn't help Sabine learn to use that saber! He went back for Hera when she needed it! He's the one everyone looks to for help!" Another swallow, then Zeb's lip twists in a deep frown. "It's just like Lasan. I did nothin' to help. Now I'm alone again."

Small, human fingers lace into Zeb's own. They clench around his hand, then let go to rub at his palm. Soothing, like he's something precious. "I wouldn't be here without you, Zeb." Kallus stares down at their joined hands. "You're a brother to them, a friend. They need you just as much as they needed Kanan. Your set of skills are just as important, believe me. You are needed."

Despite how badly Zeb wants to feel his guilt, warmth starts to spread through him. "Oh, really?"

This time, Kallus looks at him directly. "Yes, really. You're an inspiration for everyone around you, a protector and warrior. Your heart is larger than anyone I've ever met. Zeb, I l-" He stops quickly, then continues. "I care about you. We all do. Please don't hurt yourself the way you did for Lasan."

Zeb doesn't say anything to that, but he doesn't really need to. Instead, he clenches his fingers around Kallus', holding him tightly.

He can't promise anything, but he'll try.

"May I ask one more thing of you?" Zeb nods. "If you need to get your anger out, call on me. You know I can take your punches better than most."

Somehow, Zeb manages to laugh. It's weak, but a laugh nonetheless. "Even with your bad leg?"

Kallus grants him an eyeroll. "Yes, even with my bad leg. In fact, it might even the playing field." That smug look is back, all play this time.

"You wish." Zeb shakes his head, almost hating how easily this man can pull him apart and put him back together again. It's unnatural and if they weren't close allies -possibly even good friends- then it would be dangerous. It leaves Zeb feeling a little nervous and vulnerable, but good. Good enough to finally stand with a stretch, and release the difficult emotions.

It still hurts and Zeb knows this won't be the last of his survivor's guilt, but at least he has the strength to go on. To maybe lean on someone else, the way he's used to others leaning on him.

Strange how Kallus went from being his biggest problem to the one who helps him work through them. Must be fate laughing at him.

After learning about the Death Star and the battle of Yavin 4, Kallus didn't really get time to process all that happened before. Even several days after the battle, the Rebellion is left in shambles, struggling to find a base while keeping the Empire off their trail.

It's not the first time, Kallus knows. Attolon was similar to this. And yet, he can't help but feel this is a turning point in the fight. They've not only dealt a blow to the Empire, but they've destroyed the very thing they spent decades constructing. This is an attack on Emporer Palpatine himself, one they won't so easily come back from.

But the losses...they seem to be near equal on both sides.

First Alderaan, an entire planet of people gone in one shot. One of the Rebellion's founders, Bail Organa, is now gone; along with any armies, ships, or allies he might've had stationed there.

And the team that started this all. Kallus holds the report in his hands, the light of his datapad grating on him like the sharp end of an electrostaff. He takes another drink from his glass, savoring the burn of it as his head slowly unwinds enough to think.

Someone enters the room from in front, a familiar, purple figure that Kallus does not want to deal with right now. He downs the last of his glass, then sits back in his chair, the datapad still pointed at his face despite not reading it anymore. Can't read it.

"I guess askin' what's wrong would be a stupid question," Zeb says, standing right in front of him.

Kallus tastes his drink in his mouth for a long moment before speaking. "It would." He agrees, perhaps a little less kindly than he would've sober.

But sober Kallus isn't here now.

"What's that?" Zeb points to the datapad and Kallus offers it to him, nearly slamming the damn thing on the table as he drops it. Large, fur-covered hands spin it to face him and for a while, he reads. Kallus waits for him to make remarks, to give some kind of sympathy that isn't needed. Anything at all.

All he gets is a simple, "oh".

"Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus, an Imperial defector named Bodhi Rook, K-2SO, Jyn Erso, and Cas-" Kallus sighs. He wishes he had another drink. "Cassian Andor. Fulcrum."

Zeb sets the datapad down again. "Ya know it's not your fault."

"Oh, I know." Kallus lets out a cruel chuckle. "I know it's not. Erso was his mission. He decided to join her and was smart enough to know the costs. He chose the Rebellion over his life."

Zeb shifts in front of him but Kallus refuses to make eye contact. He doesn't need pity for something he was never a part of. Something he had no say in or any real right to be upset about.

"What's got you so messed up then?"

What a question. Kallus struggles with it for a long moment, his fingers rubbing at the empty glass. Then, when the answer comes, Kallus sits forward, his head in his hands. "I...If it were me on Scarif, I don't know if I could...do it." The words feel bitter on his tongue, far more so than any alcohol.

"What? Die for the cause? Sasha, ya already put your life out there for every mission! Don't paint Andor like some hero-"

"Not that." Kallus interrupts, his voice muffled by his gloves. "I'd jump to my death the moment General Organa asks it of me." She wouldn't, he knows. The Rebellion doesn't throw lives away as the Empire does.

No, this is about something else.

Sitting up again, Kallus finally meets Zeb's eyes. The Lasat looks patient, his ears tilted as he listens. "...It's not what he died for. It's that he died with her. Jyn Erso. If..." He has to get it out, even if it's far too intimate for just friends. "If it were me and you, I couldn't go out like that. Not when it means you die too."

Zeb's eyes widen as he expected, but then they soften. A sweet smile pulls at those purple lips and Zeb settles on his knees in front of Kallus' desk, their fingers locking together. It's almost too much but before Kallus can pull away, Zeb lays his other hand on Kallus' cheek. The touch is gentle enough that he could pull away easily, but he doesn't.

"I get what ya mean," Zeb says, so softly it hurts. "There's no sunset for us. No calm last moments. They'd have to steal our breath away to keep us silent."

Kallus can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. "Are you a poet now?"

"I'm bein' serious." Zeb frowns, but it only lasts a second or two. "Look, Andor was a good Fulcrum and an even better man. He got the ending he deserved and we'll get ours, whatever it may be. We'll fight to make it the right one."

This isn't how Kallus thought his love confession would go, nor how he expected Zeb to take it, but he can't be disappointed. Not when he's being held like this, comforted when his mind is too loud.

"We'll get our ending." Kallus agrees. "Maybe after the war?"

Zeb nods along, a smile on his face. "Yeah. We'll settle down somewhere and just forget about it. Then we'll get tired of stayin' still and jump back into action." He laughs, the tone rich and oh-so-beautiful.

The smile is returned as Kallus leans further into Zeb's hand, his eyes falling closed. "I'd like that."

He'd like that a lot.

Chapter Text

Every punch feels like failure. The kick he receives are indistinguishable from the rolling sickness of dread. A cracked rib is for being too smart. The throbbing headache is for being too stupid to realize he's been caught. Every cut, bruise, scrape, and drop of blood just adds to the self-loathing he feels.

"That will be enough." Thrawn commands and the stormtroopers back off; though, with some hesitance. This is personal for them, he's sure.

Who wouldn't like a chance to beat pompous, egotistical, selfish Agent Kallus into the ground?

Clipped footsteps come forward until Thrawn is standing before him, likely measuring the degree of his injuries and his strength. After a moment longer, he seems to be pleased with his troopers' work. "At 1500 hours, restrain him and bring him to the bridge. He will watch the rebels burn together." The Chiss says, those footsteps trailing away now. "Until then, leave him here with the door open."

If these weren't the Chimaera's stormtroopers, they would've questioned their Grand Admiral's orders. No sane person would leave such a highly trained prisoner in an open cell.

But being used to Thrawn's insanity, they do as told without a word, following him out in uniform steps.

Kallus just lays there, already knowing that his chances of moving are practically none. Everything throbs and his eyes can't focus for more than a second or two. He's been concussed and it would take far too much effort to escape.

Besides, he heard the stormtroopers stop just down the hall. Thrawn might've left the door open but he isn't unguarded. If Kallus so much as moves his fingers out of the cell, he'll be shot or stunned. Most likely stunned, if he's expected on the bridge in a few hours.

So, Kallus lays there, trying to blink his vision into focus. It doesn't help and eventually, he just lets his eyes fall closed. He would sleep, but that runs the risk of them catching him off guard. Everything in his ISB training tells him to stay awake no matter how much it hurts.

Besides, he deserves to feel it. This pain is only a fraction compared to what he feels inside, knowing he's just doomed the rebels on Atollon.

Why did he immediately transmit the message? He knew the risks, knew it was likely a trap and he sent it anyway.

Now, Thrawn will sneak up behind them and destroy the only resistance to the Empire's tyranny. No one will be left to help those who are suffering. No one will step up and show that there is something they can do to fight, to prove they have a voice when the feel no one is listening.

The galaxy will sleep, as it has for decades. No Jedi, no peacekeepers, no Lasats-

A powerful wave of nausea hits him as Zeb comes to mind. The last Lasat may die because of him. Isn't it ironic? He tried so hard to kill him, to end the one person who can make him remember his crimes, how horrified he felt about Lasan; but now that he actually wants the man alive, Kallus has killed him.

It's not fair. Zeb put faith in him. He saved Kallus on Bahryn, kept him warm and got him away from those Bonzami. He looked at Kallus like he could be more, even offered to take him in all the way back then.

It was a mistake.

Selfishly, Kallus wishes he could see the Lasat one last time. Wishes he could look into those green eyes and finally say "thank you". He was never more free than as Fulcrum. He felt alive, awake, and...he doesn't want to put a name to it, but something about Zeb motivated him. Drove him to push harder, to do better. He dreams of that Lasat more times than he can count, just standing before him with a smile.

Now, though? Now, all Kallus feels is defeat. He has never been this low.

Kallus' eyes snap open when he hears someone approach. It's faint, but his heart sinks regardless. This is it. He'll be taken to the bridge to watch his own failure play out exactly as Thrawn wants, then they'll kill him. Out the airlock or by blaster, it doesn't matter.

Yet...yet, as the footsteps continue, they almost sound organic, like bare feet. He strains to listen, but they get no closer. Or maybe they do, he can't tell. His head throbs and his teeth ache from getting hit so hard-

"Kallus?" That voice. Kallus opens his eyes again -when had he closed them?- and he tries to turn toward the open doorway. His muscles scream as he tries to get up. The nausea returns in full force and he has to breathe very deeply to avoid vomiting then and there.

The voice reheats itself again. "Kallus?" All rough and deep. Hopeful yet questioning. The volume changes with each repeat, sounding odder and less clear than the last.

When Kallus finally gets himself up enough to turn toward the door, he sees nothing. The hall's light shines in unblocked. The voice is gone now, along with the footsteps, leaving his ears to ring painfully.

No one is there. He's lost his mind.

He's crazy to think he can escape the Chimaera. He's even crazier to think the Ghost will find him, let alone pick him up in the middle of battle.

Yet, they do. They bring him onboard, fly him to their next base on Yavin 4, then give him the medical treatment he needs. Kallus stays in shock for nearly the full day, his stands shaking at the fact he's alive and healing. He made it.

And if that wasn't lucky enough, the rebels accept him as a Fulcrum agent. There is no torture or trial for his crimes. They settle him down at a desk, introduce him to Andor -the Cassian Andor, from Aldhani- and get him started in the Intelligence Division. All once he's healed enough to properly function, of course.

He feels insane, like he's still stuck in a dream. His body must be lying half-dead somewhere in space, his mind filling in the gaps of his knowledge. It's a fever dream from his lack of oxygen. It'll cut out at any moment.

"Kallus?"

He actually jumps at the voice, turning to find Zeb staring at him in concern. When the Lasat came in, Kallus can't say. He doesn't even know how long he's been staring at nothing.

"Hey, I thought the healers cleared you." Zeb says, coming closer. A purple claw reaches up to touch his forehead gently. "Your not burn in' up." It falls away.

Kallus opens his mouth to give some kind of automatic answer; but instead, he says, "Thank you."

Green eyes blink down at him, confused. "'Bout what?"

Finally, the fog clears. He feels his kind work, the rusted gears moving as they should again. With a deep breath, Kallus gives voice to the things he's wanted to say.

"Thank you for telling me to question the Empire. Without you, I never would've bothered to doubt my orders or think of my actions past my training. You saved me on Bahryn, then again during Atollon. I can't..." his throat tightens, his overwhelming relief threatening to take over. "I can't thank you enough."

Zeb laughs it off, his ears pointing back as he rubs at his neck. "You don't hafta say all that..."

"I do." Kallus insists. He wants to grab Zeb's hand, to see how they would feel laced together. How warm is it, against his cold skin? How would they feel against his shoulders or running down his spine- "I do." He whispers, his breath stolen.

They stand there, staring. Kallus thinks he's moving closer, his hand falling into Zeb's chest at some point. Zeb's eyes widen but he doesn't back away. If anything he comes closer too, thise beautiful lips parting just slightly so Kallus can-

"Oh!" A young man stops just as he's turned into the room, his eyes wide as he looks between them. Zeb pulls far away from him, an awkward chuckle bubbling up as he tries to deny anything without saying what he's denying.

Kallus can't keep the heat off of his face, not even as he realizes this particular rebel is Wedge Antilles, the pilot he helped Sabine escape with.

"No, no!" Wedge waves his hand frantically, a blush on his face too. "Don't mind me! I'll go!" He drops a stack of papers on Kallus' desk, then hurried away, giving them one last thumbs up.

Unfortunately, the moment is completely ruined.

"I'll, uh, see you around." Zeb says, giving a wave of his own. The Lasat is gone before Kallus can stop him.

While it would've been nice to follow that interaction through, to see where they might've gone -his heart beats fast just at the thought of it- Kallus can't completely be disappointed.

Thrawn might've beaten him physically, but nothing will destroy his spirit. With a smile on his face, Kallus goes back to his work, filing through the papers Wedge gave him.

He's never felt so loved.

Chapter Text

Zeb lifts a black uniform from a box of several others. He holds it up, judging the length of the sleeves and waistline against his mental image of Kallus. When he comes up short, Zeb turns to the Chiss himself. "Hey, Kal! You think this one'll fit?!"

Kallus leaves his spot at the planning table and joins Zeb in looking at the uniform. He shrugs off his jacket -revealing beautifully thick, blue arms- and slips into the top half of the uniform like it's second nature. Then, once he's adjusted it, he looks up at Zeb, blue-black hair falling into his face.

He's gorgeous.

"Do they have one slightly bigger?" Kallus asks, his fingers pulling at the waist a little. The belt clasps, just barely. Zeb personally sees no issue, but for a disguise, it won't do.

A scoff from beside them pulls both men's attention to their captive, Governor Pryce. She glares at them both, but mostly Kallus.

"Playing dress-up again?" She mocks. "Seems you're rather good at that."

Kallus' brows furrow as he turns to her, a glare in his own eyes. "Playing dress-up?" He echoes. There's something else in his tone that makes Zeb think he already knows what she's talking about. Or, he's simply offended she dare taunt him.

"Well, that's what you did during your time as a spy, wasn't it? Pretend to be a good little ISB agent so no one found out what you really are." Pryce's lips curl upward into a cruel smile. "But then again, you were playing pretend far longer than that, weren't you?"

Kallus doesn't grace her with an answer. It doesn't do much to dissuade her.

"You were a sheep pretending to be a wolf. You never belonged in that ISB uniform or even on Admiral Konstantine's ship."

Their staring match grows more intense. Kallus' hands clench into fists by his sides. "Because I'm a rebel? Or because I'm an alien?"

Her expression tells them her answer.

Kallus takes a deep breath, then turns away from her, his hands loosening as he removes the uniform. "You said something similar over Atollon, didn't you? You were angry to find out I wasn't human and you ordered me to be killed immediately." He makes a quotation motion with his fingers. "Because I was a 'serious threat and needed to be put down'."

"Aren't you?" Pryce asks, sitting boldly tall for a prisoner. "You're a rebel traitor from the ISB. For all I know, you could be working directly with Thrawn to overtake the Empire. Or is Thrawn less savage than the rest of you Chiss?"

When Kallus is forced to calm himself, Zeb decides he's seen and heard enough. It's about time someone teaches this prisoner where her place is.

Zeb growls as he marches toward her. Her smug expression falls into terror and once he's crouched down in front of her, she's all but desperate to get away. She gasps and pleads for mercy.

He's just about to snap his teeth when a hand pulls him away. Zeb looks up at Kallus, surprised by the calm he sees. "She isn't worth your effort." The Chiss tells him, his voice tight. "She's just trying to get a rise out of you."

If Zeb didn't know any better, he might think Kallus was talking to himself more than Zeb.

Even so, Zeb stands again. He gives one last growl to Pryce before moving back to the box of uniforms, placing the too-tight one in with the rest. They can do this later. They have time.

Kallus walks out of the base entrance and Zeb thinks of following him, of giving his comfort and telling him exactly what he thinks of Pryce's comments, but something stops him.

He's fine, Zeb tells himself. He just needs space.

He deserves to process his emotions somewhere away from everyone else. Away from Zeb.

It's fine. Nothin' personal. Zeb shakes his head, deciding he won't intrude. Can't intrude.

He only comes to regret that decision when Kallus returns with a slight limp in his bad knee and a clouded look in his eyes.

He won't make the same mistake next time.

"Oh, come on, Chewy! I promise I'll brush out your hair when you get back!" Captain Solo's voice echoes through the hangar.

The Wookie protests, his hairy arms crossed defiantly. Captain Solo argues back and the whole thing starts again.

They've been trying to gather a team of rebels more resistant to Hoth's cold with only some success. Besides Zeb and a handful of Twi'leks -Hera excluded, sadly- they haven't really found anyone. Chewbacca has been insistent that he can't join because his fur will mat.

A poor excuse if Zeb's ever heard one.

"Fine! If you go on this kriffing mission, I'll talk to Leia!" That must be enough persuasion, because Chewbacca immediately steps up to Zeb's side, looking rather smug.

Captain Solo marches away with a series of muttered curses.

Lieutenant Fiolla, a stern but not unkind Twi'lek looks at the five of them, seeming to survey her team. Based on what little gossip Zeb's heard of her, she's an escaped slave, which explains her missing lekku. Only stumps remain at the back of her head, something Hera immediately found sympathy for. Apparently, the lekku are vital to a Twi'lek's balance and fat storage. To lose such a part of her body would be like losing both arms or legs.

"Are you joining us now, Chewbacca?" Lieutenant Fiolla asks impatiently. When the Wookie growls in confirmation, she nods once, then turns to lead them out.

This is just a scouting mission, meant to help the rebellion set up some kind of map of the area as well as protection where the Empire won't see. It's a shot in the dark at best, but that's why they've made sure the group members are suited for ice and snow storms.

Or those who at least won't freeze overnight.

"Wait!" A voice calls for them and Lieutenant Fiolla rounds on the newcomer, furious.

Zeb is surprised to see Kallus of all people.

"What do you want, Captain?" She hisses. "We are already late for our mission thanks to Captain Solo and I won't let you distract us any-"

"I'm here to join your team."

Zeb tilts his head to the side, absolutely confused. Lieutenant Fiolla seems just as lost.

Quickly, Kallus explains. "Chiss are native to an ice planet in the Unknown Regions. While I may not be as well suited as a Wookie, I'm more accustomed to the cold. It would take me a few days to freeze to death, instead of a human's ten or so hours. And that's without proper gear." He gestures to his thick coat and boots. The proper gear indeed.

"And my vision also leans slightly into the infrared," Kallus adds. "It may help."

"Good. Fine. Just...no more distractions. We need to move out." Lieutenant Fiolla marches to the front and leads them out, the cold biting at them even through the gear.

Zeb keeps his eye on Kallus as they exit the base and track through thick snow. They would've taken tauntauns, but the beasts can't hold Chewbacca and Zeb's weight. They also would've scouted with starfighters or at least gotten further out, but their fuel tanks are currently frozen at the moment.

So, they walk as far as they dare before splitting off into smaller groups. Zeb pulls Kallus with him as they check north.

It's only once they're far from the others that Zeb bothers to ask his burning question. "So, well adapted to cold, huh? Didn't bother mentionin' that on the moon." He tries not to sound standoffish but...well, he feels lied to and more than a little stupid. He spent a lot of effort trying to keep Kallus warm when the Chiss was in no real danger to begin with.

Kallus doesn't meet his gaze as they walk. "It didn't come up. And besides, I'm still cold. It's simply less fatal."

"But ya didn't need that meteorite." Or to huddle for warmth. Zeb didn't have to spend days worrying about him, Imperial or not.

They stop suddenly and Zeb goes on high alert, searching for any signs of wildlife or worse, a probe droid.

His guard falls again when he realizes Kallus is looking at him. "I'm sorry I didn't mention it. I just...well, we were enemies at the time. The fact you didn't outright kill me was surprising enough. And when you offered our only source of heat and helped me to shelter..." The Chiss goes quiet, blue lips pressed thin as he thinks.

"Your kindness was new to me, Zeb. No one had ever offered so much, not even those I considered allies. It was nice. Is nice."

Heat rises to Zeb's face and he scratches at his neck to lay the fur down flat again. "Ah, it was nothin'."

"But it wasn't." Kallus presses, glowing red eyes peering into Zeb's green ones so intimately, it feels like they're seeing into each other's thoughts. "I will always remember your sacrifice. It proves you're an honorable man. I hope to have only a fraction of that."

Zeb doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what he can say that won't ruin this moment. So, he steps closer instead, taking the risk of holding Kallus' hand.

The Chiss lets him, their gloved fingers slotting together a little awkwardly with their size difference, but it's warm and nice. Very nice.

They get closer, slowly. Zeb's open hand lands on Kallus' jaw and one of the Chiss' reaches around his back, pulling them chest to chest.

They stop just inches away, their breath mixing in hot puffs. "Zeb?" Kallus' voice is beautifully low.

Zeb goes to give his answer, a kiss he never knew he wanted so badly...

But a red flare rises up from the snowy mountains around them, signaling danger close by.

They break into a run almost instantly, their minds back on their mission and whichever team members may be in trouble.

Zeb tries not to think of what they almost did as he helps a young Twi'lek and Chewbacca regroup with the others, talking about a scary cave with fresh bones inside. He tries to forget it as he goes to sleep in the almost equally freezing base, his toes curling from his cold sheets.

He almost kissed Kallus. Would the Chiss kiss him back? It seemed so. He was so warm and the way Kallus looked at him, his red eyes hooded and pleading...

It torments him, drives him to insanity and back as Zeb struggles to sleep. He could've kissed Kallus, had they gotten another few moments alone.

Maybe they can try again. Maybe.

The attack over Endor is almost two weeks away and Kallus has been ignoring Zeb.

It wasn't obvious at first. There is always some report to write, a message to encrypt. It leaves little time for drinks or just dinner. And with the battle looming closer and closer, their workload only gets heavier.

Yet, whenever Zeb even looks in Kallus' direction, the Chiss turns immediately. He's tried to counter it by calling after him or trying to pin him in place, but he has yet to succeed.

By this point, Zeb is beyond annoyed. He's outright furious and if only fuels his drive to get the Chiss alone.

That opportunity comes just after their latest debriefing.

"Kallus, wait!" Zeb calls, already beginning to chase after the Fulcrum agent, who takes off in a sprint. He races down the hall, shoving any rebel who gets in his way. They weave through halls, neither getting closer nor farther from the other.

Kallus stays ahead by a good distance until Zeb takes a shortcut through the shower rooms, coming out the other end in time to see Kallus take a sigh of relief. It's ruined as Zeb steps in front of him, his arms out and ready to grab if he needs to.

"Quit runnin'!" Zeb huffs, slightly winded by the chase. "I'm sick of you ignorin' me!"

The Chiss' eyes narrow as he tries to shove past. "Who says I'm ignoring you-"

Zeb takes ahold of his arm, attempting to keep him in place, but the ISB training must kick in because Zeb finds himself getting slammed to the floor a second later.

He lets out a groan, his back aching from the contact. There's a frustrated sigh above him, then cold hands grab him from off the ground and pull them into the nearest empty room.

They're now surrounded by mops and brooms.

Zeb gets a moment to reorient himself, then he stares down at Kallus again, watching the conflict on the Chiss' face.

Eventually, he has to cut in. "Kal, what's the matter?"

The conflict clears into a neutral mask. It's the same face he had as an Imperial agent. "Perhaps I'm just tired of you following me." Kallus snaps.

"I haven't been followin' ya since just now!" Zeb lets out a harsh breath. "Kal, I don't know what's goin' on if you don't tell me. If it's somethin' I did, then I'm sorry."

"I'm sick of you!" Kallus hisses. "You're always like this! Whenever I..." His expression falters slightly. "You're just so...you!"

Zeb narrows his eyes. Something doesn't feel right here. "Whenever you what? What am I doin' that's botherin' you so much?"

He watches as the Chiss flounders for an answer, his mouth left open. Then, Kallus groans and leans against the shelf at his back. "I can't..." Blue hands cover his face.

Daring to lean closer, Zeb feels his anger completely disappear. Well, most of it. He's still annoyed at the vague answers. "What's wrong? I can take it, whatever it is. I promise."

Kallus meets his eyes again, the hurt no longer hidden. "I can't be with you." Zeb has never heard his voice go so soft.

"What do you mean? We're not...we're not together." Not romantically, anyways. They never talked about it or even addressed that near-kiss. They've been just friendly.

Was even that too much? Is something really wrong and Zeb never saw it?

"...You'll be on Endor, right?" Zeb nods. "I won't be. Mon Mothma's sending me and a small crew to the neighboring moons. We'll be keeping gravity generators across the system to prevent Imperial reinforcements."

This is news to Zeb. He thought they'd all go to Endor together, on the Ghost. But although Zeb is disappointed, he's happy Kallus won't be in harm's way. He'll be safe, a short jump away.

"I don't see why you can't be around me then." Zeb crosses his arms, still confused.

"Because," Kallus hugs himself, his shoulders turning inward. He looks small. "I can't bear the thought of missing you. I thought...I thought if I got you mad at me then it would hurt less. I can pretend you hated me before you died."

Everything finally clicks into place. "You mean you were avoidin' me so I'd get mad and yell at you?!"

"...Yes."

"You can't do that to people, Kallus!" Zeb can't believe this. And he almost fell for it too; almost gave up and stormed out. "Karabast! Why would you think me hatin' you is better?!"

Kallus continues to avoid eye contact. "Because then it would be like before. I wouldn't be stuck with these new memories of you being kind to me. To think of you and only remember the love I may never have again? I can't..." The Chiss shakes his head as if ridding himself of the thought.

Zeb's heart beats faster. Kallus isn't saying what he thinks, is he? About love and missing him?

They almost kissed on Hoth. Of course he's saying it!

Treading carefully, Zeb reaches out to take one of Kallus' hands. He succeeds, thankfully, but the Chiss still doesn't look at him. "Kal, you know what Hera said after Kanan died?" He waits for the expected 'no' before continuing. "All she could talk about was regrettin' how little time they got. She wished they confessed sooner, and spent more time together. Never once did she say she regretted lovin' him, or knowin' him at all. Not once."

Kallus swallows. "Hera's stronger than I am."

Their fingers interlock, holding on tightly, as if the other will disappear. "She's tough, but so are you. I haven't met anyone so stubborn. 'Cept maybe me." Zeb chuckles. It brings a shy smile out of Kallus and Zeb's heart thumps faster.

"I can't promise nothin' bad will happen." Zeb continues. "But I wanna spend the time we got together." He looks at their hands. "Maybe we can go back to what we were doin' on Hoth?"

Kallus is suddenly in his arms, trembling and holding him too tight. Zeb holds him back, a purr escaping them both by instinct. "I'm scared, Zeb." Kallus whispers to him, his voice sounding strange when mixed with a purr.

Zeb pulls away just enough to meet those red, glowing eyes. He intended to give words of comfort, but instead, he gets distracted by the look of blue lips and yearning.

"I...wanna kiss you." Zeb leans closer without thinking. "Can I kiss you?"

Cold puffs of air escape Kallus as they stay just a few inches apart. Then, with a slight nod, he answers. "Yes. Ple-"

Their lips connect in a surge of hot and cold. Zeb pulls the Chiss as close as possible, needing as much of him as he can get. The feeling of their purred vibrations in their throats is like heaven. Weight leaves him as he presses closer, kisses deeper. He's finally where he should be.

They pull away for a short second, giving Zeb the opportunity to pin Kallus against the closet door. The sound he makes sends reactions all through Zeb's body, particularly further down. With a growl, he dives right back into their kiss, hungry and eager for more.

It's messier than before, Kallus' teeth catching Zeb's lower lip just long enough to send shockwaves, then he lets go.

A four-fingered hand curls around Kallus' waist. He savors the feeling of soft flesh and the added weight the Chiss has gained since turning rebel.

When Zeb slots a knee between beautifully parted legs, pressing on what he knows is some kind of tentacle, by the way it moves under tight pants, Zeb is rewarded with another delicious sound.

"Zeb," Kallus pants into his mouth, shaky hands pushing him back. "Zeb, stop!"

He does so immediately. It's a little hard to think around his blood running south, but he manages to stumble back a step. "Sorry, sorry! Was it too much?"

He gives Kallus time to breathe. "It's alright. This is all just...fast. I'm not ready for that."

A small part of Zeb wants to mention how little time they have as it is, but he shoves it down. If they never get further past heated kisses, he's fine with it. It would kill him to rush into things just for selfish pleasure.

Kallus wraps Zeb in another hug; though, the heat is gone from it. This is simple comfort and Zeb leans into it readily. "My anatomy is...different from humans," Kallus says.

"Same here. I won't freak, no matter what you've got." And he means it. Whatever he felt before seemed interesting enough.

"I would like to do more research," Kallus tells him. "I'll write you a report on Chiss reproduction and genitalia."

Zeb lets out a barking laugh that only grows as the Chiss frowns at him. "Ya don't need to do all that. Just explain it normally." He gets stuck reading enough reports as it is. Even one about his partner's sex organs could put him to sleep.

"Fine. Then I'll do research and present it..." Kallus seems to think for a moment. "The night before I leave. We'll meet on the Glimmer and...yes."

"You sure? It's not easy to just schedule these things. If ya need time-"

"I need this, Zeb." Kallus plants a kiss on his lips, soft and gentle. "I just can't do it right now. So, in a week. Meet me then, okay?"

Well, if he's so sure. "Alright. One week." He'll do research too. It may not go anywhere, with how rare Chiss are, but he'll try.

Kallus nods, taking another breath. Then, he steps away and straightens his jacket. "Alright. Do I look unkempt?"

Zeb trails his eyes over him. He runs a clawed hand through Kallus' blue-black hair, half as an excuse to touch him and half to pull it into its proper order. "There." He nods. "All good."

Together, they step out of the closet. Zeb freezes when he spots Commander Skywalker blinking at them. The Jedi sidesteps to grab a broom from the closet, then hurries away.

They stay silent until he's fully out of range. "How long do you think he was waiting there?" Kallus asks, amusement creeping into his expression.

Zeb shrugs. "Don't know. If it were Ezra, we would've known a while ago." Commander Skywalker has always been odd, even for a Jedi.

Turning back to the other, Zeb rubs at his neck. "Well, guess I'll see you. Love." He adds the title hesitantly.

"Love?" Kallus' face turns purple around the cheeks.

"You know, if we're datin'. It's what Hera called Kanan." He can't believe how obvious they were, looking back.

Kallus smiles. "Yes, I like that. I'll see you, Dearest."

Dearest? Zeb can't stop from grinning wide. "See ya, Kal."

Kallus moves first, awkwardly shuffling down the hall. Then, once he's out of sight, Zeb heads in the opposite direction.

Love. Dearest.

He better survive Endor.

Chapter Text

When the day comes for him and Kallus to meet, Zeb has gathered an extra bottle of lube, some smaller plugs, and a vibrator. He doesn't expect to use them or even pull them out, but it's good to have; just in case they aren't as compatible as they thought.

As Zeb walks to the Glimmer, he twists his fingers together. This isn't Zeb's first time with a human-like species, but it will be Kallus' first time with a Lasat, that Zeb can bet on.

What if he doesn't like it? What if Kallus gets turned off by the texture of him? Or what if he finds the hole below Zeb's dick unusual?

They never talked about the fact Zeb can get pregnant either. He has no idea if Chiss qualify, but it's a risk they should discuss first.

They should've done this earlier. This is their last night together before Kallus goes off. If they had schedule a couple days in advance, they would be actually ready! At least, Zeb would be.

Too late now.

When Zeb gets to Kallus' ship, the hatch is already open for him. He steps inside slowly, taking the time to calm himself before he has to face the Chiss.

Down the hall is Kallus' personal quarters, a room Zeb has been in once before, when the Glimmer was a new development and in need of repairs. He did think about what he could do to Kallus in that room, but it never went past fantasy.

Now he'll be living it.

With a soft knock, Zeb calls into the room. "Uh, Kal? Ya in there?"

There's a rustling that answers his question. "Yes, I...Come in." Kallus' voice calls back, sounding slightly nervous as well. At least Zeb isn't alone in his anxiety.

Sliding the door open, Zeb is met with quite the display.

Trota pedals are spread across the durasteel floor in a path leading to the bed. Several lights have been placed around the room, giving it a dim glow in comparison to the fluorescent lights of the hall.

At the center of it all is Kallus, already bare and spread out. His hair is mused and his legs are slightly parted to reveal his sex to Zeb.

All of Zeb's thoughts go clear out the door.

"Uh...hey." Zeb takes a step closer, suddenly feeling overdressed. "Didn't know we were gettin' right to it."

The seductive smile on Kallus' face slips. The Chiss sits up suddenly, his legs closing. "Sorry! I thought that- Oh, I'm such a fool-"

"No, no, it's fine! I, uh, I like it." Zeb's eyes rake over blue skin. He savors the sight of thick thighs, strong arms, and those hips...

"I just though it may be easier to start like this. To...help explain."

Zeb swallows, struggling to meet Kallus' eyes. "Yeah, uh...just let me put this down." He sets the bag of extra items aside, then goes about unzipping his jumpsuit. If Kallus is already naked, then it's only fair he joins.

Once they're both bare, Zeb steps closer to the bed. He sees Kallus watch him with equal hunger. That's a great sign.

"S-Sit!" Kallus snaps back to himself and pats the bed beside him. Zeb does, as bizarre as it is. "First, we should get any warnings out of the way. I've already been tested, so there's no worry with infections or the like on my side. I'm also not equipped with...spikes or hooks."

Karabast, Zeb didn't prepare enough for this. "I uh, didn't think of testing. Sorry, Kal." His ears lay flat against his head.

"It's fine. I have condoms." Kallus smiles easily. "Now, do you want to discuss anything else before I show um you...me?"

Zeb doesn't really want to put it out, still scared it'll ruin this, but he knows he should, condom or not. "Yeah, uh...so, Lasats can..." Zeb groans. "I can get pregnant. Don't know if we can together, but it's possible."

To Zeb's surprise, Kallus doesn't even look surprised. "I read about that. For Lasats, anyone can get pregnant with anyone else, no matter their sex. That's another reason why I brought the condoms."

This time, Zeb laughs, laying back on the bed. "'Course. Man, I feel dumb."

Kallus leans over him slightly and that sight alone makes Zeb begin to throb. He squeezes his thighs together to hide it.

"Anythin' else?" Zeb asks, hoping they can get on with this already.

To his relief, Kallus shakes his head. "Nothing we can't discover together." His voice is low and smooth and Zeb can't help but shift in place.

About kriffing time.

Surging forward, Zeb catches Kallus' lips. The Chiss melts into him immediately and slowly, the two of them turn so Zeb is leaning over Kallus. By the time they part for breath, Zeb has a hand in the Chiss' hip and the other his running through blue-black hair.

"Ready for a lesson?" Kallus pants, his eyes already looking slightly dazed.

Zeb rumbles his approval. "'S long as it's a hands-on demonstration." One purple claw trails down to Kallus' thighs, spreading them gently open. When he squeezes right at the knee, Kallus' head falls back with a sweet moan.

It's said that Chiss have similar genitals to Mon Calamari. Zeb finds it's only half true. Kallus does have the tentacle-like dick that Zeb felt before, but he also has a hole below that, slick running down it's sides. There's a smaller sheath, like the one Zeb's dick hides in, there the tentacle peeks out of. There is no knot or balls to be found, just the two holes below.

"This," Kallus runs a finger along his tentacle, a purple flush covering his face in the process. "Is called a Vus'ch'ah. Vus for short."

The tentacle -vus- seems to have a mind of it's own as it wraps itself around Kallus' wrist before he breaks away. With nothing to wrap around, the vus then curls in on itself, like a lost worm.

It's different yet exciting. Zeb can't wait to feel it in his throat.

Maybe, if they have time.

"The female counterpart is called a vusci. It looks the same but it lies below the Cssa." Zeb blinks at him. "The vagina, in your terms."

Makes sense. Both have the vus thing but the hole placement is different. Or, the other way around? He doesn't know, but Zeb doubts he'll ever meet a female born Chiss, let alone sleep with one.

Not when Kallus is right here.

"This is my ro'cass." Kallus slips a blue finger below his vus and toward the dripping hole. He plunges a finger in, then lets out a choked moan. The vus, once again, wraps around his wrist.

When that finger leaves again, Zeb is surprised to find it faintly glowing. "What..." Zeb tries to ask, but his throat can't form the words around his arousal. He wants to touch so badly, aches for it.

"It's...nevermind." Kallus shakes his head as he wipes his finger off on the sheets. "Lesson's over. Give me your hand."

Obediently, Zeb allows his hand to be pulled toward that hole, the ro'cass. Kallus lays it over his thigh, then gives Zeb a nod. "Touch me, Garazeb."

"Y-Yeah." Zeb breathes deeply as he runs a finger along blue thighs, then over the edge of his ro'cass, feeling how wet the skin is. Carefully, and only once Kallus encourages him on, Zeb slides his finger inside.

"Oh," Kallus gasps, his eyes half-lidded. "That's so much better then when I do it..."

It's not burning hot, like a human or Twi'lek would be, but that certainly isn't bad. He's still warm and so wet.

Zeb rocks his finger back and forth, getting a feel for how this works. It's more shallow, he finds. His whole cock likely couldn't fit inside, but it could take most.

And with how Kallus' has to keep his vus back with one hand, Zeb thinks this is going to be a real fun night.

By the time Zeb is fully hard and aching to get onto the main course, he's gotten Kallus stretched on two fingers. "Tell me," Zeb smirks as he watches the Chiss squirm. "What'll happen if I make myself right at home in this here ro'cass?"

"I -mmm- need it to reach -ah!- orgasm. I can't physically -Kriff! Ah- come without -karabast!- penetrating it!"

Zeb's fingers stop, pressing deep inside that hole. Whatever he's pressing, it gets Kallus to moan quite loudly. "So, no babies?"

"No!" Kallus groans, his hands starting to fist into the sheets. "I can't- can't get pregnant. S'just to -oh!- come."

Good to know.

Kallus actually whines when Zeb pulls his fingers out fully. Zeb looks at the glowing slick covering them, then risks a taste. It's a little sour but not bad. Better than most species he's tasted.

"Garazeb..." Kallus pulls his attention, the Chiss already looking half-way to blissed out.

A blue hand trails down Zeb's chest, running over each of the six nipples, then down to his dick. Zeb growls as he's finally, finally touched.

"I'm gettin' real impatient." Zeb tells him, leaning down close to his ear to lick a stripe up his jaw. He receives a sigh and a nice strong jerk to his cock.

Kallus is the one to pull away this time. He reaches into his desk and rips open a condom. In practices ease, it's rolled down Zeb's dick, all the way to the base. Then, Kallus goes to sit back.

He repositions himself more comfortably on the bed, his legs spread open for Zeb. And if that wasn't enough, Kallus spreads the skin around his ro'cass invitingly. "Come kriff me, Garazeb. Please,"

The sight and smells make Zeb go lightheaded. His chest rumbles as he crawls forward, sharp nails digging into the fleshy meat around Kallus' hips and waist. It's intoxicating, how this Chiss turns him on so easily. Submits with so much power in his hands.

"I'm bouta kriff ya so hard," Zeb growls as he rubs their mixed slick over his cock, then lines it up. "Gonna make ya scream," he nibbles along Kallus' neck as he slowly pushes in, hissing at the change in temperature.

Just as he predicted, he doesn't fit all the way in. An inch or so is left out, which is slightly disappointing, seeing as that will later be where his knot forms. But the disappointment doesn't last long when that twisting vus wraps itself around the last inch of him.

"Karabast!" Zeb can't stop himself from thrusting now, strong and quick.

"Zeb!" Kallus's back arches. His blunt fingernails latch onto Zeb's back and scratch all the way down. "Frost! Frost, Zeb!"

Zeb's growl gets louder as his mind clouds, reduced to nothing but the feeling of slick heat and his partner's voice.

Foreign words fall from Kallus' mouth, a language Zeb has never heard before. They sound halted but oddly smooth. The only think Zeb can pick out is his own name, repeated over and over. It's all he needs.

As Zeb's knot begins to form, his pace slows. The vus grips his knot tightly, the tapered end of it digging into his skin as if trying to find something that's not there.

"Frost!" Kallus gasps, his head thrown back on the bed. "Yes! Yes, Zeb! Oooooh, just a little more! Please, please-"

The pressure slowly building in Zeb's gut finally releases as he bites down onto a blue shoulder, his teeth breaking skin.

Kallus follows him to release a moment later.

It takes several minutes for Zeb to come back to himself and even more for him to disconnect from Kallus completely.

They lay side-by-side.

"Good?" Is all Zeb can manage to ask.

Kallus lets out a breathy chuckle. "Yeah. It was good."

"...Should we...clean up?"

A beat of silence. "No." Kallus rolls onto his side, pulling Zeb's hand into his own. This time, there are no gloves to block the contact. "I want to spend my last night right here."

Zeb does just that. He stays there, filthy and uncomfortable, but warm.

The reminder that this is their last day together presses at his mind. One or both of them may die on Endor. Zeb may have to live without Kallus and the thought alone is suffocating, but he hasn't changed his mind since their argument in the closet.

If these are their last memories, then he'll love them to the end. He'll remember Kallus like this, tired and beautiful. Not how he was -how they were- before Bahryn.

"Maybe...we can go again tomorrow morning." Kallus mutters against his chest. "If we get up early."

Zeb already twitches with interest. "I wouldn't mind that." He chuckles, low in his chest.

They don't wake up for a second round. By the time Kallus is dressed and ready for departure, Zeb has cleaned up the room and prepared to go back to the Ghost.

"Goodbye, Zeb." Kallus kisses him. "Be safe. Be smart."

"You too." What else can he say? They both know they can't always control whether they live or not.

With one last kiss, Kallus returns to his ship, leaving Zeb in the hangar.

"Come back safe, Kal."

Chapter Text

Agent Orrelios’ bo-rifle slams down hard, knocking the rebel to his knees. He then raises the barrel to finally end his nemesis, only to miss as the human rolls away.

They’ve done this all before maybe a hundred times now. The Lasat agent has tried hunting down this particular rebel for a very long time with no luck. He’s come close before, almost killing Kallus and his little crew, but they always manage to escape.

It’s beyond infuriating.

“Give up now, Agent!” Kallus is on his feet again, the other bo-rifle in his hands. Where he got it, Agent Orrelios still doesn’t know. But he has a pretty good guess.

The first time they met, Kallus was working to sell a batch of T-7 ion disrupters to some smuggler. Orrelios thankfully got rid of them, but the fact still remains that this human -who he’s since learned was on Lasan at the time of the massacre- was aiding these rebel terrorists in another genocide.

So, here they are, fighting each other tooth and nail over millions of dead Lasats that will never get this chance. Orrelios will kill these rebels in their honor.

He ignores the part of his mind that questions why the Empire once used ion disrupters too, before they were banned. Before he joined their ranks as a rare non-human.

A hard blow to the head brings the agent back to their fight. He falls to his side, growling at the pain that now throbs at his skull.

Kallus breathes hard above him, his eyes wild and challenging. “Is that all you’ve got?!” He taunts, seeming to want the fight to continue instead of just killing Orrelios while he can.

Fine. If this rebel thinks he’s good enough to start mocking him, Orrelios will have to teach him what it really means to fight a Lasat of the Honor Guard. And the Empire.

Chapter Text

Kallus’ hand begins to shake. His shoulder throbs from holding a grown Lasat’s weight and his eyes start to sting from the dirt and filthy they kicked up during their escape plan.

The escape plan that didn’t work. That same plan that sent both Kallus and Zeb to the cliff’s edge. The plan that led to this moment, where Kallus is sprawled across the edge of the ragged cliff, his one arm acting as the rope for Zeb to hold onto. The only thing keeping the Lasat alive.

As all feeling leaves Kallus’ arm, as adrenaline begins to clear his mind in a way he never thought possible when blaster fire echoes all around them, even as they’re hanging in this balance of life and death; Kallus realizes one simple thing.

“I love you.” He confesses. He isn’t sure exactly when this all started, but he knows now that he loves Zeb, more than anything.

And he’s terrified of losing him.

“W-what?!” Zeb calls up, fear ringing in his face too. He’s the one dangling over darkness. He’s the one who may never come back from this.

Kallus adjusts his grip, his fingers turning white with how hard he holds Zeb’s wrist just to keep him from falling.

“I said I love you, you idiot!” He shouts it this time. “I love you!”

Zeb’s eyes widen, then turn soft. “Ya could’ve said that earlier!” He laughs, even as their hands begin to slip. “I coulda kissed you.”

Kallus bows his head, unable to meet Zeb’s gaze. He should’ve said this a long time ago. They wasted so much time over guilt and anger. Things that seemed so important at the time.

Now, Kallus has to make another decision. When Zeb falls, will he let go or fall with him?

“Kal, don’t!” Zeb swings slightly and his hand slips another centimeter. Kallus finally looks at him again, meeting that hard stare. He understands. Of course he does.

“I can’t go back without you!” Kallus pleads. “I can’t…”

“We’ll make it, the both of us! Just hold on, okay! Hold on!”

They won’t. Kallus knows the stormtroopers will break through their defenses within the minute. Kallus’ grip will give out before that.

There is no getting out this time.

As Zeb continues to slip past the point where Kallus can stop him, the ex-agent steels himself for the fall. His grip on the cliff begins to loosen and he lets his chest lean forward.

Of all ways to go out, this is the best he could hope for. Dying beside the man he’s come to love.

Before Kallu can fully let go, however, the sound of jet packs reaches his ears. A second later, five Mandalorians fly over the side of the cliff, their weapons already hot And firing.

“Zeb! I got you!” Sabine calls as she and her brother move through the air to scoop him up. Kallus lets him go with a sob of relief, watching as they place Zeb down far from the cliff’s edge.

They made it. Today won’t be their last.

Chapter Text

Agent Kallus has made a grave mistake.

He thought Admiral Konstentine would listen to him, would spare Zeb based on his word alone. Zeb may be a rebel, but he saved Kallus’ life on Bahryn. That alone deserves some amount of mercy.

He realizes too late that the Admiral doesn’t think the same. They’ve already started torturing Zeb for answers, demanding the names of his fellow rebels and their potential bases.

Kallus avoids the holding cells at all costs. It does little to stop his nightmares. Dreams of being in that room with the Lasat. He can hear them so clearly, the screams Zeb releases to each electrical shock. He hears the way Zeb begs for him to do something.

After a week, Kallus catches himself walking toward Zeb’s cell. He doesn’t make it there, his paranoia getting the better of him. He ends up walking back to the bridge instead, sweat dropping down his collar. What was he thinking?

But then Kallus does it again. He heads toward Zeb’s cell with no intention at all, as if his feet have a mind of their own. He gets a little further but not far enough.

The third time, he stops in front of the heavy durasteel door, staring into the window at the injured Lasat. Kallus carefully holds his emotions back, doesn’t dare feel for him, before he leaves again.

Now, Kallus knows he’s lost it this time.

He went to the cell, only to find Zeb missing. Then, as panic surged through him, taking over any and all Imperial training he had, Kallus marched right to the interrogation cell.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing when he excuses the stormtroopers of their duty, or when he shoos the interrogator out. All he knows is that he can’t keep doing this.

“Kallus?” Zeb’s been drugged, clearly. He slouches from where he’s held up by thick cuffs. Kallus makes quick work of them, then pulls Zeb’s arm over his shoulder.

Kallus ignores the surprised chuckle Zeb lets out as they begin to move. “Oh, gettin’ real close, are we? Didn’t know ya liked me like that.”

He’s drugged, Kallus reminds himself. Drugged on truth serum.

“Hurry up!” Kallus hisses to him, attempting to be quiet. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Zeb, to his credit, stumbles along well enough. They get through the halls at a surprisingly quick pace. Thankfully, the escape pods aren’t far.

“Didn’t think you’d come.” Zeb’s breath is hot against Kallus’ ear. It sends shivers down his spine. “Knew there was good in ya.”

Not enough. A good person would’ve ran to Zeb’s aid immediately. A good person would’ve seen the Empire’s lies before destroying Lasan. Zeb wouldn’t be bruised and heated if Kallus were a good person.

“Here.” Kallus pulls Zeb into the nearest escape pod. He sets the Lasat down and moves to pull away, but a purple arm keeps him in place. “What-“

“You smell good.” Zeb pulls him closer, rubbing that flat nose into Kallus’ neck. Heat spreads across the agent’s face. “Like toast.”

Kallus stops his attempts to pull away. “Toast?”

“Yeah. I like toast. ‘S crunchy and warm. Sabine’s got some good fruit jam for it too. ‘S spicy and…stuff.”

This is a waste of time. Kallus finally pulls out of Zeb’s hold and silences any protests with a finger against his purple lips. “I have to send you out before they realize you’re gone. Now shut up and sit tight. We’ll be jumping to Coruscant soon, so that beacon better work.”

If he could, Kallus would’ve contacted the Ghost before of all this. Instead, he just has to hope they get to the pod first. And that Zeb doesn’t crash on some other moon and get himself killed in his drugged state.

Great, now Kallus is worrying again.

Stepping out of the pod, Kallus closes the hatch firmly. His finger hovers over the launch button. “Goodbye, Garazeb.” He presses it before Zeb can get out of his seat.

Kallus watches the pod grow smaller and smaller until the star destroyer jumps into hyperspace.

“I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

Captain Orrelios of the Honor Guard understands the importance of a bo-rifle. It’s an honor to hold such a weapon, something so powerful and ancient. It connects the Guard to their ancestors, though, their uses are more modern.

It’s all Zeb has left now. His bo-rifle and the memories of what used to be Lasan. He holds it tightly as he sits in a foreign ship with strange beings.

“I’m Hera. This is Kanan and that’s Chopper.” A strange pile of tin waves at him. Zeb simply stares, his basic fairly rusty.

“Cap-“ Zeb stops, shame washing over him so often, he can barley feel anything else.

He doesn’t deserve to be called Captain. He left his men to die, the rest of the Guard is gone because of him. It was his responsibility to protect his home and now, he will live as the last Lasat in payment for his failure.

“Garazeb” He finally says, folding his hands in greeting. The human offers his own, a single hand held out vertically.

When Zeb doesn’t take it, Kanan -the human- explains. “It’s a handshake. Just grab my hand like this,” their palms clasp together in a first shake, then let go. “See?”

Zeb doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like any of this. The strange droid, the mouthy language, the gestures. It’s too different. It reminds him that he’ll never see another of his kind again. That Lasan will only live on in him.

And he’s not really living.

Zeb huffs out a breath, then turns back to his bo-rifle. He pulls it apart for cleaning, more as an excuse to be moving than anything. He needs something familiar and these Spectres are anything but.

It’s only after the next two Spectres join that Zeb starts to feel less like an alien among his friends. His family. Sabine likes the same spicy foods and Ezra may be annoying, but the kid’s durable. He holds up well enough to Zeb’s wrestling and it’s…good. Things are good.

He remembers Lasan with less guilt after a while. He starts speaking in his native tongue when he prays to the Ashla. Stories escape him in the most unexpected times, whether they’re in the middle of a battle or settling down for dinner.

Then, as he learns of Lira San and sees so many other Lasats on that planet’s surface, all of them thriving, he finally lets the nightmares go. He forgives himself and puts his home to rest. He’s carried that burden far longer than he should’ve.

That’s why when Zeb sees Kallus struggling the same way after Atollon, he decides to help. Does the ex-imp deserve to feel guilty for Lasan? Sure. Should he suffer alone even still? Zeb doesn’t think so.

Through the first week, Kallus slowly cracks open his shell, revealing pure gold inside. Zeb knew there was something shinny past that harden exterior his, but he’s surprised to see so much passion and kindness. The yearning to be a better man.

But of course, Kallus only lets it show for so long before he becomes suspicious. “Why are you helping me?” The human accuses. “Why you of all people?”

Zeb expected this, but it’s still disappointing to see. “‘Cause I want to see ya get better. You’re our Fulcrum.”

Kallus’ expression only softens slightly. “I killed Lasan. You should hate me.”

He should, shouldn’t he? The smell of burned flesh and the sound of those ion disrupters are still carved into Zeb’s mind.

And yet, he can’t bring it in himself to be angry anymore. “Look, I know you’re feelin’ all kinds of guilty, but I already said Lasan’s behind me. We both know what ya did and I’m not pretending ya didn’t, but…you’re trying. That matters.”

“Hardly.” Kallus scoffs. “Feeling bad doesn’t bring them back.”

He knows. Better than anyone, Zeb knows.

Placing a hand onto the human’s shoulder, Zeb lets all of his walls down. “Kal, it’s time to let go.” His voice is raw and vulnerable, but he doesn’t care. This is true experience, from years of depression and anger. He knows Kallus can’t stay like this forever without killing himself in the process.

Kallus blinks up at him, then that shell finally breaks away piece by piece. “I…Zeb.” His voice is quiet, gentle. “You really forgive me? Even after I’ve hurt you so badly?”

“I do.” Zeb nods. “I forgive you. Now you gotta forgive yourself.”

They’re silent for a long time, just staring at each other. Then, Kallus reaches forward and wraps Zeb in a tight hug, exceptionally tight for a human. It squeezes a laugh out of him.

“You weren’t this clingy on Bahryn.” Zeb teases. Maybe they would’ve been a bit warmer if he had.

“Thank you.” Kallus ignores the statement. “It won’t be easy and I’ll ask your continued help, even if I don’t deserve it. But…thank you.”

Zeb smiles. “I’m here to stay.”

Chapter Text

Kallus’ eyes sweep across the room, taking in every detail he can before it becomes too much. Pounding music and possibly a hundred dancing bodies make this sort of work difficult. Distinguishing drunken accidents from intentional diversions are nearly impossible to catch.

Having grown up on Coruscant, Kallus is quite familiar with these sorts of clubs. They grant citizens a fun night to act however they want, dressed however they want. Within reason, of course.

It’s not unlikely to find disguised Imperials scattered across the dance floor. Mostly low ranking Lieutenants and Captains. Those who can afford it on their shore leave and have less on the line, should they be found out.

That’s the exact reason why Kallus is here now, in a popular club on some Inner Rim world. He’s dressed in a loose crop top and form-fitting pants, his hair pulled into a set of tight braids while his bangs hang free. The mutton chops are gone, a necessary evil for this disguise. With some added make up and color nail polish, Kallus can confidently say he looks nothing like himself.

And if that wasn’t enough, the neon lights hide many of his strong features.

He’s looking for a specific Imperial by the name of Karr Castin. He’s someone with quite some intel and just stupid enough to fall for seduction.

Kallus’ search is halted when a figure settles down beside him, the old bar stool creaking slightly.

“Mind if I join ya?” That deep, rumbling voice asks in a flirtatious drawl.

While Kallus may be difficult to disguise from the Empire’s databanks, a Lasat is a whole different story. Still, Zeb insisted he go with Kallus on this mission, in case the man is more easily swayed by the taboo of a non-human.

And as backup.

Kallus would love to demand why Zeb is beside him now, when he too should be looking for their target, but he has to keep his cover up. Act like they don’t know each other.

Throwing one leg over the other, Kallus turns to his partner. “Not at all.” He takes a slip of his drink, making a show of acting tispy. “What’s a tall glass like you doing all the way back here?”

He doesn’t mean to, but Kallus’ eyes rake over those lovely muscles and how Zeb’s shoulders look in that sleeveless top. He never thought something could be tighter on Zeb than his Guard uniform.

Focus! They have a mission to complete!

Zeb’s shoulders roll as he sits back against the bar. “Just makin’ sure a beauty like you isn’t gettin’ too lonely, ‘s all.”

This must be code for something. Kallus takes it as his hint to get closer, so they can whisper their information without looking suspicious.

After downing the rest of his drink, Kallus sets the glass down and leans over the bar, closer to Zeb. “Well, if you really want to make me feel less lonely, you’ll escort me onto the dance floor.” He knows the interest in Zeb’s eyes is fake, but his heart picks up all the same.

His stomach twists at the way Zeb grabs his hand and pulls him into he crowd. If his cheeks weren’t already dusted in blush, his face would be glowing red with just how close Zeb holds him, their bodies pressed tightly together.

He gasps when Zeb kisses him, large claws tangling in his hair. Without thinking, Kallus melts into it, all thoughts of the Empire and their mission escaping him completely. All he knows now are warm lips and a clever tongue.

“Kal,” Zeb’s breath ghosts against his ear once he’s broken away. Shivers run up Kallus’ spine. “I…I can’t remember what I was gonna say.”

“Shhh.” Kallus rubs his cheek against Zeb’s own in what he knows it a Lasat’s kiss. It’s Zeb’s turn to gasp. “Just kiss me.”

Sharp claws start to dig into Kallus’ hip, a beautiful pain. “Don’t mind if I do.”

This kiss is more hungry, intense. It leaves Kallus breathless and wanting as he pulls Zeb closer by the neck, his own blunt nails digging into thick skin.

It feels so good. He feels good, pressed hot against Zeb’s chest. He feels drunker than he’s ever been before, the taste of sweet brotani and bitter soobara mixing on their tongues.

Those sharp pinpricks begin to crawl downward toward Kallus’ ass, when their ear-coms go off.

“Kastin just went up to the second floor!” Hera’s voice filters in. “What are you- oh come on, guys! Really?!”

“Ew, get a room!” Sabine’s joines her, sounding more amused than disgusted.

They pull apart and Kallus immediately jumps into action. He tries to hide the uncomfortable tightness of his pants as he walks, as well as the cold that washes over him. He’d much rather stay pressed against Zeb, but they have a mission. A mission Kallus stupidly forgot.

But maybe, once they’ve caught their guy, he and Zeb can continue. Somewhere more private, hopefully. And with a little less clothing.