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1. Kanan
Kallus didn’t know if he belonged here. He knew he belonged in the Rebellion, but here, a bit away from base camp, hesitating as he watched Zeb’s still form, sitting on a rock. No Chopper at his side. No rock music and cans scattered around, as he was wont to do when he had solace.
Kallus took hesitating steps toward the Lasat, but Zeb didn’t growl at him to go away, so he kept coming, quiet, but not as quiet as a Lothcat. He didn’t want to be silent and insincere.
He sat next to Zeb, brought his knees up and rested his forearms against them. Looked out over the plains.
It was lovely here, in the untouched part of Lothal. The moons were in the sky even though it was still blue with the sun. The expanse of plain was anything but plain. The tall grasses all caught the light differently, swaying and shifting in nature’s dance.
It was so unusual. Kallus was from Coruscant, the planet that was an industrial city. And then he had lived on star cruisers. Everything was harsh and artificial. Stepping into the sun here on Lothal, on Yavin too, felt like home.
“He saved me, y’know,” Zeb said after so much time had passed that Kallus was almost startled. “Kanan.”
Kallus pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to fist his hands.
“After everyone was gone, I was all that was left and I was barely alive. Didn’t wanna be, if I’m being honest.”
He had done that. Kallus swallowed. His guilt was his own. Zeb’s forgiveness or not was his choice. Kallus thought that perhaps forgiveness would never be entirely correct, but he wasn’t sure he deserved it anyway so he took the small kindness instead.
“But Kanan saw something in me. As a Jedi or a man, I dunno.” Zeb rubbed at his neck, eyes along the distant swaying horizon, dotted with conical mountains. “And he gave me something new to fight for. Something worth fighting for.”
Kallus nodded. He’d found that, too. Found that everything before was him, but a him that had been forced into a shape that didn’t feel right. He was still working out where he fit now, in the Rebellion, but at least he had an easier time sleeping.
Zeb was quiet again for a while, reminiscing, ruminating.
Kallus’s throat felt dry, but he swallowed a few times and sat back, pressing his palms to the stone behind him. “Hera is a born leader,” he said slowly. “But Kanan could rally people’s hearts without even trying.”
Zeb huffed, but his mouth twitched up in a small smile. “Y’got that right. That’s what he did. Even when he was being a damn annoyance.” He chuckled ever so lightly. “Not that it was often.”
“We all contain multitudes,” Kallus mused.
Zeb blinked, glancing over at him. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Kanan was right about you.”
Kallus’s eyebrows flicked upwards in surprise. He didn’t think Kanan could ever forgive him for the things he had done, but then again, Kallus had no idea how the Jedi worked and what sort of philosophies they had except for peace and self-sacrifice, it seemed.
“Or maybe,” Zeb continued with a shrug. “He was just seeing the bigger picture. And you’re a piece of it.”
“That sounds like something the Force would agree with.”
“Yeah. Don’t much think that everything happens for a reason, mind you.” Zeb’s gaze went momentarily hard on the horizon, then slid across to Kallus, who accepted the hardness, blame, and anger silently. But then it was gone in a blink. “I think people control their actions but maybe there is some big Force out there plucking the strings for us.”
“Maybe,” Kallus said, once again quiet. He sat up, criss-crossing his legs, resting his hands on his knees.
Zep pressed his mouth into a thin line. The next few silent minutes felt different, shifted from before. “Why’d you come out here, Kallus?”
“Dunno. It just felt…right.”
“The Force,” Zeb said flatly.
Kallus shrugged a shoulder. “Or me choosing my own actions.”
Zeb grunted.
“No one should be alone after…” After losing someone. But Zeb had lost everything before. Maybe he did want to be alone. Kallus hadn’t even thought about that before his feet had taken him here. He’d been thinking about the way Zeb had somehow, without a hint of begrudging, shuffled Kallus into the Rebellion after his rescue. Nearly dragged him into a bunk with one huge hand where Kallus had slept for an entire day and woke up to a face that looked and felt like he’d run straight into a wall. Repeatedly. For hours. Kallus had nothing to lose then—the Empire was not his, he would have died to save the Rebel fleet—and yet he hadn’t been alone. People were skeptical of him, but he proved his worth quickly.
But that didn’t change the past. He could never, ever change the past. “I’m sorry,” he said, not apologizing for losing Kanan, but for his presence. “I didn’t think to ask if you wanted to be left alone. I’ll leave…” He got to his feet.
Zeb let him get a few steps away before he let out a half-growl, half-sigh. “Just sit your ass down and be quiet,” he instructed, pointing at the now empty space beside him.
Kallus did as he was told, though he didn’t lose the tension in his shoulders and neck. “I am sorry,” he said finally, the words that were too small, too overdone, the ones no one wanted to hear anymore. “About Kanan. He was a great man.”
Zeb sniffed. “Yeah. Yeah, he was.”
And then Kallus did a thing he didn’t anticipate. So much for leaving half a second ago. He put his hand out and squeezed Zeb’s shoulder. A reassurance. Or so he hoped. It wasn’t like Kallus grew up on a lot of that. But it felt like the right thing to do.
Zeb was sturdy and very warm under his palm. He didn’t immediately shove Kallus away either. Maybe he really didn’t want to be alone. “Thanks,” he said after a beat.
And then it was a more comfortable silence, once that stretched out until Sabine’s voice cut across the plain and the Rebellion tumbled into the beginnings of a fight of a lifetime.
—
2. Drastic
The heat from the powered down reactor room and the blazing blasts made Kallus sweat like mad. The scratchy uniform collar felt like it was choking him, but he gritted his teeth and aimed, shot, repeated.
“There’s too many of ‘em,” Gregor’s voice reached his ears as he threw himself back against the column. “We’re gonna have to do something drastic!”
There wasn’t a second to think.
“All right, I’ll do it,” Zeb growled.
It took more than a moment for the words to sink into Kallus’s head. “Wait,” he said, or maybe just thought it. “Zeb,” he said, voice aloud, but quiet still. In a purple blur, Zeb ran, jumped– “Don’t!”
It was enough of a distraction, taking out that assassin and relieving those troopers of their commander. Zeb’s growls echoed throughout the room.
Kallus’s blood pounded in his ears as he and Gregor made their way down to the control panels. They had to turn on the shields but Kallus couldn’t see Zeb. He couldn’t see Zeb. He couldn’t see Zeb couldn’t see Zeb couldn’t see—
A mistake and one well-placed shot and Kallus whirled around. Gregor grunted, smoke streaming from his chest as he shoved, nearly tossed, an engineer off the side of the platform.
Kallus’s heart seized up. (Surprising it was when he found out he still had one of those. It worked overtime now, remembering how to function.)
He caught the soldier before he collapsed. He felt frozen, awash with concern. Once upon a time he’d be joyous in the takedown of a Rebel, how could he ever think that—?
“Get—that—shield up,” Greg huffed, pushing him back.
“But–”
“Go!”
Hells. Right. There was no point to all of this if they didn’t succeed in protecting the citizens of Lothal. Clenching his jaw, Kallus scrambled to the nearest unit. Zeb had been quieter, lost somewhere. Was he alive? He had to be. How many losses could they take today?
(As many as it takes, his brain told him.)
“Now or never,” Sabine’s voice came through the comm units.
“Now!” Ketsu said, moving the last lever into place.
Kallus still couldn’t see Zeb. Where was he? “Zeb?” he called out, very aware of the quiet, shallow breathing of the man lying on the platform next to him.
“Don’t wait on me!” Zeb yelled.
Kallus hesitated for a micro-second. This was it. This was one of those defining moments that could push aside all of the doubt that he didn’t belong here. Kallus pushed one of the ignition buttons.
Red light flooded the room.
Kallus knelt beside Gregor, heart pounding. “You all right?” he asked, grimacing at the placement of the blaster bolt.
“Oh,” Gregor’s voice was thin. “Might be done for this time.”
Among the crackling of the energy coils, Kallus bowed his head but heard Zeb’s voice. He couldn’t make out any words, but he heard it. A relief.
Rex climbed to the platform, rushing to Gregor’s side.
Kallus stood back, a step, two. The doors were now sealed, no more troopers were getting in. He ventured a look down to the lowest platforms. Zeb was crouched, ready to make the jump to the next.
Everyone was converging on their level. Zeb made one last vertical jump, gripping the edge of the walkway. Kallus didn’t think he’d be any help, but he knelt and offered a hand anyway. Zeb’s hand encased his forearm and he scrambled up.
“Cutting it a little close,” Kallus said, his voice sounding much calmer than he felt. He placed a hand on Zeb’s shoulder
“Finally got the bastard,” Zeb grumbled, wincing at a motion he tried to make with his shoulder. For a brief moment Kallus wondered if he was trying to shove his hand off, but then Zeb placed his own hand on Kallus’s shoulder, in a reciprocation of…what? Comfort? A bit of physical confirmation that they were both in one piece? Didn’t matter really.
Kallus’s body was too flooded with adrenaline to think too clearly about anything right now.
Zeb’s eyes caught the sight of Gregor. Rex moving to his feet beside his fallen brother.
“We gotta move!” Rex barked.
Zeb loped up, Kallus following.
“Are we…I can carry him,” Zeb said, ears drooping. “Can bring him with us.”
Rex hesitated, then his eyebrows snapped together. “No time and we gotta make our exit.” He gripped his weapon and started hauling ass.
They all followed.
—
3. Failure
After pickup, everyone squeezed into the cockpit to watch the dome. It moved slow but fast for something so massive. Kallus couldn’t watch. He walked through the automatic door to the crew room and found a change of clothes in the corner with other supplies. He stripped out of his stifling Empire uniform. He worked methodically, but he wanted to tear them to shreds.
At least that collar wasn’t going to keep choking him. He pulled on a grey shirt and brown pants and ran his hand through his hair. Took a few breaths to center himself.
Zeb walked out of the filled cockpit to the crew quarters hallway. He hovered in place and then went down on his knees, collapsed on the floor. Physically he was fine, but he couldn’t stay upright.
Kallus frowned, feeling his own mixed emotional bag. The Ghost was making autopilot rounds above Lothal. Everything was at a standstill.
Everyone was holding their breath.
He stepped out of the doorway he’d been accidentally hiding in. “Zeb,” he said softly. The Lasat didn’t even twitch.
Kallus crouched behind Zeb’s still form. He put a hand on Zeb’s left shoulder, reached around and put his hand on the other too, though closer to Zeb’s neck.
“Not another one,” Zeb said, voice quiet. “First…Kanan, and now Ezra. I was supposed to be there, protecting them and I wasn’t. I wasn’t there and now they’re both…gone.”
Kallus heaved a heavy breath of his own. He wanted to say so many things, but they all felt hollow and wrong.
Kallus didn’t know if Lasat could cry. He realized he did not stay on the planet long enough to see the outcome of his military push. Zeb didn’t appear to be crying, but every ounce of his body language suggested grief. Kallus’s grip grew firmer. He wasn’t going to let Zeb be alone.
He’d learned something in that desert, not long before now when the Ghost crew came back without Kanan. Zeb really hadn’t wanted to be alone.
“He’s just a kid,” Zeb continued, eyes staring at nothing. “He was just a kid. Do you know how many kids have died because I failed to protect them?”
Kallus shifted closer, his torso pressing against half of Zeb’s, his left hand hooking under Zeb’s arm. His other slid from Zeb’s shoulder to the lightly furred neck. His thumb brushed the furry, drooped ear and Zeb huffed a sigh, eyes closed.
“It’s not your fault,” Kallus said finally, voice low. Zeb was incredibly warm, his body still worked up from the Dome Plan.
And then Zeb did an unexpected thing: he shrugged his left shoulder just so to off balance Kallus, who shifted closer to stay upright. Zeb tilted his head to the left, meeting Kallus’s. Kallus took a short breath and leaned closer, fingertips lightly stroking the fur of Zeb’s neck and ear. Zeb’s sharp fingertips brushed and lay over Kallus’s fingers pressed against his ribs.
They both stayed that way, eyes closed, breathing falling into sync.
It was the most intimate thing Kallus had ever experienced.
Intimate in a way that Kallus couldn’t even wrap his head around to find words for.
The cockpit door slid open and they barely moved.
Zeb opened his eyes. Kallus kept his shut, chin on Zeb’s shoulder, arms around him from behind.
“Zeb!” Sabine’s voice didn’t skip a beat at the display. Kallus cracked his eyes open to the reality around them. She had barely glanced at them before she was turning back to where everyone else was gathered. “Ezra left us a message.”
The words took a moment to settle. “What?” Zeb asked, ears twitching.
Kallus moved along with Zeb, instinctively taking possession of his arms back as Zeb gripped the wall and got to his feet. His free hand flexed and Kallus was surprised when it clamped onto his lower arm.
Zeb said nothing, but walked toward the others. Kallus had no choice but to follow, dragged along by him.
After squeezing into the space, Zeb sat, Chopper center in the space, and then…a blink and a flicker and Ezra was there in holoform.
The message did not sound like it was from someone who intended to die. There was hope.
Behind Zeb, Kallus reached forward and squeezed his shoulder.
“You didn’t fail,” Kallus murmured.
Zeb’s ears twitched in recognition. He sat back in the chair as Ezra’s words replayed on a loop. His head cleared the top of the seat and nearly pressed into Kallus’s chest.
They didn’t even have time to fully process the words before Rex mentioned that the dome had moved far enough from the city.
Kallus felt that stone grow in his stomach that had forced him away from this view point in the first place. He took his hand back from Zeb and stepped back, sliding down into the cargo hold just to get away.
He and Zeb did not find each other alone for some time after that.
—
4. Together
They stayed on Lothal to keep out an eye for Imperial ships, but they never came. A few days later, Zeb sought out Kallus, which was a surprise to, perhaps, both of them.
Kallus was stripped to a single layer, grease on his hands and shirt, having been working on a speeder for most of the morning. A few Lothal civilians were sitting around, taking a break from working on equipment to share a meal, their conversations filled with hope for the first time in years.
“There you are,” Zeb said, spotting Kallus.
Kallus had just sat up on a roller board. He got to his feet, reaching for a rag to clean his hands. “You were looking for me?” he asked, eyebrows raised. With the take-back of Lothal, they hadn’t had a single chance to see each other except briefly during meetings.
The burning intimacy lived in the back of Kallus’s brain though. The memory of their moment in the Ghost rattled in his mind, overtaking his thoughts whenever things were cool and quiet.
“Obviously,” Zeb replied, eyes flickering over Kallus’s less-than-put-together appearance. “I uh…” His eyes then moved to the others around and he scratched the back of his neck.
Sensing that Zeb wanted to…talk? somewhere without others, Kallus motioned for him to follow and moved toward the short structure nearby. The shell of an old house. The windows were blown out and the front door was permanently open, but there were walls at least.
It got them out of the sun and out of the direct prying eye of anyone else.
“Something wrong?” Kallus asked once they were inside.
Zeb glanced around the space, like he didn’t want to look at Kallus. “Right, I uh…listen, about before.”
Kallus blinked. “Before,” he repeated.
Zeb’s ears twitched and he finally let his gaze fall on Kallus’s face. “On the Ghost. After we got outta the dome.”
“Ah.” So he wasn’t the only one still thinking about that. He tried his hardest to keep his cool, even if his heart began hammering in his chest. He decided to at least speak a truth, even as he tried to keep his voice even. “I couldn’t let you sit alone.”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Kallus said, placing his hands on his hips.
Zeb frowned a little. Kallus was getting very good at reading the Lasat’s expressions.
“Did you want to talk about it more or—”
Zeb shook his head, giving a little growl of frustration. He took a step toward Kallus, bathed in the light from the wide window. “I’m not really sure what to do here,” he confessed, though there was a confidence in his voice despite the words he used.
“About what?” Kallus asked, his breathing sharp.
Zeb’s brilliant green eyes narrowed to a focus. “Y’know, you’re just about as hairy as a Lasat,” he commented, dragging his claws across Kallus’s facial hair.
Unexpectedly, Kallus laughed. Where was this going exactly? “And either I’m getting used to it or you’re not as smelly as you used to be,” Kallus joked, his body flushing with shivers from the touch.
Zeb cracked a grin, holding Kallus’s chin in between his thumb and forefinger and tilting the human man’s face up. “Hmm…”
Kallus, nearly pulled to his toes, lifted a hand and placed it on Zeb’s wrist. “You trying to take my head off, Zeb?”
“Nah, just trying to see what makes you so damn enticing.”
Kallus’s heart leapt at the blunt words even as Zeb’s hand dropped. His fingers caught on Zeb’s larger ones briefly before he shoved his hands into his pants pockets, resisting mirroring the way Zeb often scratched his neck when he was nervous. “It must be my roguish charm.”
Zeb chuckled and patted Kallus’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “Hera wants someone to head back to Yavin base,” Zeb told him. “You should come with me.”
Kallus didn’t need Zeb to spell out what was happening here. Zeb was offering an allusion to a shifted relationship, time alone spent together, maybe to sort things out. At least to spend more time together as they kept fighting with the Rebels to take down the rest of the Empire.
And Zeb was saying they do it together. Perhaps they’d both make an effort to stay close, if they could. Kallus wouldn’t mind.
“Okay,” he agreed, with a smile and a nod.
Zeb nodded, a flicker of emotion through his eyes, accentuated by his ears perking up a little bit. “Really?”
“You sound so surprised.”
Zeb grumbled and waved a hand, rolling his eyes to hide his feelings. “Come on, the ship should be ready by now.”
Kallus, head and heart reeling, started out of the husk of a home. Zeb followed and the two of them walked through the streets, side by side, Kallus’s shoulder brushing Zeb’s arm, the sounds of light conversation between the two of them following as they walked toward an uncertain, but hopeful, future.