Chapter Text
Kallus sighed as his attempt to sneak out of bed was foiled, Zeb's strong arm reeling him back in against his chest. “S'too early,” Zeb mumbled into the bunk. “You can stay here a bit longer.”
“You know I wanted to make an early start,” he replied. “I have to finish that report today, and I don't know if I will be asked to help with the new intake of recruits. I want to have it finished before they arrive, just in case.”
“Ugh. I forgot about that. A few more minutes won't hurt tho’.”
Zeb nuzzled against Kallus’ neck, and started licking his ear, causing him to shiver. “I thought it was too early?” he said. He twisted around to face Zeb, and started to softly stroke the base of his ears. “I'll leave as soon as I finish the report, as long as I'm not needed for the recruits,” he promised. “You should be done early too, correct? You're just taking care of some minor repairs on the Ghost?”
“Huh. Hopefully.You know what the Ghost is like.”
“Then we have all evening.” He ran his nails down Zeb's spine, making him groan, and said “The sooner I go, the sooner I will be done.”
Zeb growled in frustration. ”Then why are you doing that? You know how good it feels.”
“You started it,” he said, smiling at his pout. “Now let me go.” He gently pushed against Zeb's chest, and this time Zeb released him.
“Better get on with it then,” he grumbled, and rolled over to face the wall. “I'm going back to sleep for a bit. If I can, now.”
“Like I said, you started it,” he said, still amused. But he felt his smile fade as he left the room; as usual, as soon as he left Zeb's presence, feelings of guilt crept back in.
—--
Kallus leant back in his chair, satisfied the report was up to his usual standards. He took a sip of caf, and grimaced at the stale taste of the cold liquid, realising it must be later than he thought. He picked up the mug, and decided to wander over to the mess for his refill, where his favourite caf machine was located.
He wove his way through the desks in the Intelligence office, already distracted by the thought of what he should work on next, to put in some time, as it was still too early to leave yet. He opened the door to the office, not noticing the noise outside until it was too late. The new recruits filled the hallway, no doubt moving from the large briefing room to the mess, for a break. The door squeaked, and several heads turned in his direction.
He froze for a second as his gaze was caught by a pair of familiar blue eyes, their owner seeming to be just as shocked as him by their encounter. Lyste moved first, his face fearful as he hurried to catch up to the Intelligence officer escorting the recruits around the base. Kallus stepped back quickly, closing the door as he moved. He returned to his desk, his face expressionless, but his heart beating wildly in his chest. He needed to think.
Lyste was one of the few people in the Empire who knew that he had faked his defection, and had in fact continued working for the Empire while acting as Fulcrum, hoping for a chance to infiltrate the Rebellion, and taking the opportunity to do so during the Battle of Atollon. But he couldn't know that once he had been on Yavin IV for a few weeks he had had a real change of heart, and defected in truth.
The fear on Lyste's face suggested that he was not here on behalf of the Empire, and was expecting Kallus to want to act swiftly to silence him, before he could expose Kallus as an Imperial spy. He certainly had first hand experience of how ruthless Kallus could be, when performing his duty. He was likely already informing the officer of Kallus’ Imperial allegiance in order to make it impossible for Kallus to move against him undetected, thereby ensuring his own safety.
It was possible he would just about have enough time to steal a vessel and escape before the alarm was raised, if he left now. He would have nowhere to go, but he could probably manage to survive, somehow. But it was just as likely that he would be shot out of the air, wasting valuable resources, if he even got that far. And then all his work would be suspect, and would likely be scrapped. If he stayed, perhaps it would show that he truly was a rebel now, and that his work could be trusted. Both choices seemed likely to result in his death, but at least if he stayed, maybe everything he'd done here wouldn't be for nothing.
He desperately wanted to see Zeb one last time, to bury his face in his neck and breathe him in. He shifted in his chair, ready to make his way to the Ghost immediately, but managed to restrain himself. He couldn't bear to see Zeb’s face if he explained the situation to him; see the shock and disbelief turn to hatred, for that to be his last memory of him. But if he said nothing, Zeb would sense his distress, and he would have to lie to him yet again. Better for both of them if he stayed here, and let their last memory be a pleasant one.
He picked up his personal datapad to write something for Zeb instead, and hesitated. He didn't even know how to start, feeling he had no right to use any endearments now. He sighed, and started to write anyway.
Zeb,
I am sure you have now been told about my treachery, how I joined the Rebellion under false pretences intending to take it down from the inside.
I am sorry. I never asked questions, after Bahryn. I was so sure it wasn't necessary. That it was impossible that I had dedicated my life to the wrong cause. It took being on the side of the Rebellion, false though it may have been, initially, to see things as they truly were. I want you to know, that although my intentions towards the Rebellion were false, I did not fake my feelings of friendship, and later, love, towards you. That was all real, as hard as it may be to believe. I hated myself for using you, but I put my duty first, as always. I know no words can
Kallus stopped. There were no words that could make this better, or justify him entering a relationship with Zeb after betraying him that way. Perhaps it would be better to say nothing at all. Impatiently, he deleted the file.
He looked up at the sound of Draven's office door opening. Their eyes met, and the General gestured for him to come over. “Kallus,” he said, “Come in.” He closed the door behind them, and said, “Place your blaster on my desk, please. There have been allegations made against you, and unfortunately I need to investigate them. Given your history, and understandable unpopularity, I intend to do so discreetly. So I suggest you give me your full cooperation.”
“Understood,” said Kallus, as he complied with the order. Behind him the door opened again, and Lyste and Skell, the Intelligence officer Lyste had run after earlier, entered and moved to stand to the side.
“Skell, please search Kallus for hidden weapons,” said Draven.
Skell began to pat Kallus down, ignoring him and continuing her methodical search when Kallus said, “Vibroknife. Right boot.”
“Just the knife, sir,” she said, placing it on the desk next to his blaster.
“Good,” said Draven. “Kallus, this defector has accused you of being an Imperial spy. I find it hard to believe given the quality of your work, and the fact we have not been attacked after the amount of time you have been here. But nonetheless, we will be going through your files, and comm logs, and if there is something there we will find it.”
“There's nothing to find.”
“So you deny the accusation?”
Before Kallus could answer, Lyste interrupted, a little desperately. “It's true, I swear. He's still working for the ISB. He's just been waiting for you to trust him, and then he'll send the location of your base back to the Empire.”
“He's had plenty of opportunities to do so already,” said Draven, doubtfully. “It seems just as likely that you are working for the Empire, and made a move before Kallus could expose you. You will both have to be confined until this has been sorted out.”
Kallus started to wonder if it was possible for him to keep getting away with his deception. Lyste was already starting to panic, and he had always been easy to manipulate. It probably wouldn't be too hard to persuade Draven that he was a spy; a pawn that the Empire would be willing to lose for a chance to find a rebel base. And it was true, there was nothing to find. As Lyste had said, he had needed the Rebellion to trust him before he could contact the Empire, and he had chosen to defect before he had felt it was safe to do so.
If only Lyste had been patient, he could have explained to him that he really was a rebel now. Instead, he had accidentally manufactured a situation where only one of them was likely to survive. Kallus knew he was more valuable to the Rebellion than Lyste, with his experience and skillset. And he had been willing to sacrifice Lyste before, for the Empire, although it had turned out not to be necessary. It seemed wrong to do less for the Rebellion.
But he thought of Zeb, and what he would think of Kallus if he found out one day that he had engineered Lyste's death to save his own life, letting Lyste be punished for the crime that he himself had committed. And any time they spent together from this date would be tainted even further, having been bought with an innocent man's life. He felt sick at the thought.
Before he had fully realised what he was doing, he said, “There is nothing to find because I have done nothing to betray the Rebellion since I arrived here, and have no intention of doing so in the future. But Lyste is telling the truth. I was still working for the Empire when I first arrived on Yavin.” The intense relief he felt at finally confessing the truth was short-lived, almost immediately replaced by regret, and a strong feeling of dread coiling through his stomach.
Chapter Text
His words hung heavy in the air. The growing fear on Lyste's face had turned to shock as Kallus spoke. Skell looked furious, but Draven just looked disappointed. Kallus wondered if he had suspected something before now, or if his own lack of surprise at the accusation had given him away. The long silence was eventually broken by Draven.
“This must just stay between the four of us for the moment. Skell, take the defector and find out what he knows about this infiltration scheme. I will question Kallus.”
“Sir, you can't be intending to question him like this,” exclaimed Skell. “He hasn't even been cuffed.”
Draven sighed, and tossed Kallus a pair of stuncuffs. “Put these on.” Once Kallus had secured himself, he said to Skell, “Satisfied?” Skell did not look satisfied, but she nodded, and steered Lyste out of the office. Draven looked at Kallus, his exhaustion showing now that they were alone. “Since you have confessed, I assume you are planning to cooperate?”
“I am.”
“Then you can begin by telling me your actions since arriving on Yavin. I need to know if the base is safe.”
“It is safe from me. As I implied earlier, my orders were to do nothing until I was trusted, just do anything asked of me by the Rebellion. I did, however, find out from any rebel that was willing to talk to me, the reason for their defiance against the Empire, in order to have a better understanding for when I returned to the ISB. I admit, this did raise some doubts in my mind, but I managed to suppress them. That was no longer possible after the mission to Ibaar, as I'm sure you can understand. I decided to defect that night. All the work I have done since then has been done to the best of my abilities. I have not falsified any reports, or leaked any information to the Empire, since I arrived.”
“So we will find no evidence to support Lyste's accusation?”
“No, I don't see how there could be.”
“Then why admit to it?” said Draven, exasperatedly. “When it was just his word against yours. Surely you could have just gone on as you were? I have no choice but to take this further now.”
Kallus hesitated. “I don't entirely know, anymore. It seemed like the best thing to do, at the time.” He didn't want to admit that his feelings of guilt about his past, and about Zeb, had muddied his thinking. He had spoken impulsively, and was no longer sure he should have. This was the Rebellion not the Empire. Perhaps it would have been possible to keep his secret without sacrificing Lyste. He should have taken longer to consider his options. As Draven looked at him with his penetrating gaze, Kallus was sure he could sense what he was thinking. He felt his body heat up in embarrassment.
“I feel that you are focusing on the wrong thing to be angry about, however,” Kallus continued, attempting to change the subject. “Are you forgetting that I have just admitted to working for the Empire for my entire tenure as Fulcrum? I am responsible for the destruction of both the fleet and base at Atollon.”
“I can assure you, I have not forgotten that. We will get to Atollon,” he said, colder now. “First, I want to know if anyone else on this base knows about what you have told me? Garezeb Orrelios, for example.”
Kallus flushed from a mixture of shame and anger. “No. No-one knows. Especially not Zeb.”
“Good. We should be able to keep this contained.” He paused, briefly, then said, “Now, I need you to tell me how you managed to infiltrate the Rebellion, and become a Fulcrum agent. I want to know who in the Empire was involved in the plan, your intentions, and a detailed accounting of your actions as Fulcrum.”
Kallus swallowed. This was going to be painful, recounting the events he was so ashamed of now. “The idea presented itself to me when my attempts to trap the crew of the Ghost went awry, and I ended up stranded on a deserted moon with Garazeb Orrelios,” he began.
—--
“One thing I don't understand,” said Draven, “is how you managed to fool Kanan Jarrus. He was present during your initial interview, and he vouched for your sincerity. We have been using the Jedi to test defectors since they arrived back from Mandalore, but if they can be fooled… Who knows how many more spies have entered our ranks. Can everyone in the Empire do this?”
“No,” Kallus replied. “The technique is part of an advanced training for ISB agents. It is a well kept secret, and only taught to agents likely to need it.”
“In case you discover any Jedi? Don't you have the Inquisitor's for that?”
“It is actually taught to agents working closely with the Inquisitors. I'm sure you can imagine the necessity.”
“Hmm. Can you tell me how it works?”
“Most Force users can only sense emotions, not hear thoughts, at least not without actively forcing themselves into someone's mind, which is a painful process and would be detected, and is not a technique the Jedi use. I merely allowed myself to feel more strongly, those emotions that would be expected in someone joining the Rebellion from the Empire. It also helps to avoid lying outright, but instead using ambiguous phrases that can mean one thing to the person speaking, but another to the interrogator.”
Kallus remembered with discomfort how he had been able to reply to Jarrus thanking him for the second time, by replying sincerely that he only wanted to do the right thing. He wondered now, how he had ever fooled himself into thinking working for the Empire was the right thing to do.
“I can see how that would work against the Jedi, but what would stop an Inquisitor from forcing himself into your mind, as you put it?” asked Draven.
“Nothing really, but they tend not to use the process on Imperials, unless they have a good reason.”
“I see. And the emotions you used to fool Jarrus. I remember he mentioned guilt, relief, gratitude..”
Kallus looked away, and said reluctantly, “Relief that I had survived being blasted by a stray shot, gratitude that they had taken me aboard the Ghost before that could happen, guilt about deceiving Zeb after he had saved my life.” Guilt that had only grown with time, and now threatened to consume him, if he somehow survived the Rebellion's justice.
—--
Kallus sat in his makeshift cell, exhausted. The initial interrogation with Draven had been surprisingly brief, Draven seeming to trust that Kallus would tell him everything he needed to know, but once it was finished he had been handed over to Skell for further questioning. His initial debrief during his false defection had been thorough, and he had answered many of their questions about Imperial protocols honestly, but he had held a lot of intel back, and lied when necessary or when he thought he could get away with it. Once he had truly defected, he had been unable to think of a way to give the Rebellion this information without exposing himself, so in a way the long hours he had just spent going over his original testimony to correct the lies and fill in the blanks had been a relief. But Skell had been untrusting and hostile, repeating the same questions over and over to try and uncover new deceptions, and now he was so tired he could barely think. It was well past the time he should have met up with Zeb. He wearily wondered what he thought he was doing right now.
—--
Zeb frowned as he thought about the message he had received from Kal earlier, letting him know he had had to leave on a last-minute mission, and should be back tomorrow. He'd been looking forward to having the extra time with him that evening, as they didn't spend as much time together as he would like, mostly just the nights, as Kal seemed to want to spend all of his time working. But it wasn't enough for Zeb, he craved Kal's presence when they were apart, feeling listless and empty. It was getting harder and harder to resist telling him he loved him, but he didn't want to scare him off. He sighed heavily, and hoped they could try again tomorrow, after Kal got back. Maybe he could plan a surprise picnic in the jungle, near the lake he had found. He smiled, and started to work out what food he should take.
—--
Kallus woke abruptly when the door to his cell opened with a creak, and Draven entered. The General had been meeting with Rebel Command to inform them of Kallus’ treachery, and to decide what to do with him once he had finished giving them all the information he could. Kallus looked at him expectantly, assuming a decision had been made.
“I was able to persuade them to give you another chance,” said Draven.
“I know I am genuinely on your side now. But are you so desperate that you would forgive that level of treachery, and what happened at Atollon?”, said Kallus, incredulously.
“You know as well as anyone that we are indeed that desperate. Nobody has forgotten Atollon, and several beings argued for your death, for your part in that. But punishment is not a luxury we can afford right now. We can't afford to not use you, if you are willing to fight.”
“But how can you trust me after I have spent so long deceiving you?”
“I believe you can be trusted. The work you have done until now would be proof of that by itself, and I have reviewed the new intel you gave us today. It is extensive. Although perhaps unhelpful, your willingness to confess also stands in your favour.”
“So what happens now?”
“You go back to your normal routine, and speak to no-one about any of this. You will stay here tonight; we have already spread the story you left on a last minute mission, so you will need to remain here long enough for that to be believable. Can Lyste be trusted with this secret, once he is informed of your allegiance to the Rebellion?”
“I assume so. He managed to keep it while in the Empire.”
“Good. Then I will see you in the morning. It's been a long day.”
“Wait. Can I tell Zeb?”
Draven looked at him as if he were insane. “Of course not. Nobody else can know,” he replied.
“I can't continue lying to him now that others here know the truth,” he said, a little desperately.
“You haven't had a problem lying to him so far. And he is hardly going to take the news well. It is extremely unlikely we could keep this mess a secret if you told him. It is out of the question.” When Kallus stayed silent, Draven continued. “Kallus. Keeping silent is non-negotiable. Rebel Command was clear on that. The only alternative is execution.”
“I won't lie to him anymore,” Kallus said, quietly. He had no intention of humiliating Zeb any further. It was bad enough that all of Rebel Command now knew how Kallus had fooled him in the past; using him to gain the Rebellion's trust, and making him complicit in the massacre at Atollon. But he had fooled everybody at that point. He couldn't bear the idea of anyone looking at him and Zeb together, and knowing the truth, while Zeb was blissfully unaware.
“I can't,” he said.
Draven sighed. “You have until morning to think about it. Please try and make the right decision, this time.”
Chapter 3
Notes:
Hopefully this all makes sense.
Chapter Text
The past
Bahryn
Kallus stared along the barrel of Orrelios’ rifle at the lasat, who had paused in his attempt to haul himself out of the ice cave. He knew he had no choice. He had to shoot him; it was his duty to stop all rebels, and there was no way he could beat him in a fair fight, with his leg in this condition. Not to do so would be treason. But he hesitated, unable to pull the trigger, and kill the being who had just put so much effort into saving his life. Orrelios had been nothing like he expected based on their initial encounters, nothing like the lasat mercenary whom he had originally seemed to resemble.
He sensed movement, and instinctively shifted his aim and fired, sending the horrific lizard-like beast back to the ground. He saw the relief on Orrelios’ face, and realised he was in a unique position. Their shared ordeal had forged a bond between them, however unwillingly on both their parts, and his latest action had just gained the rebel’s trust. This could be an opportunity for him to infiltrate the rebels, in order to provide them with false intel, or even find the rebel base, if he played it well enough. And this way, he could let him live. At least for now, anyway.
He reached out a hand to help the lasat to the surface, ready to put his new plan into action. Their earlier conversation had paved the way for a ‘crisis of conscience’ that could lead to a later ‘defection’. Perhaps he would attempt some sort of apology for Lasan, once they found shelter from the storm. It would even be sincere; he still occasionally had nightmares about the horrors that had occurred during that disastrous campaign.
It was unfortunate that this plan would involve misleading Orrelios, as the rebel had earned his respect. Although he rarely had sympathy for those in opposition to the Empire, in his case it was understandable, after what had happened to his planet. He felt, without their past, and with a different present, they could have been friends. But his duty to the Empire had to come before his personal feelings. And he couldn't let this opportunity pass by.
—--
Skystrike Academy
Kallus watched Sabine Wren and the defecting cadets run off down the corridor, presumably to safety, if Governor Pryce could delay Skerris from following them for long enough. His plan had gone almost exactly as he had hoped when he had sent the Fulcrum message to the Rebellion. Hopefully his words to Orrelios would help build some trust, for when he later revealed himself to be Fulcrum. Perhaps the more intelligent among them may even work it out now.
Colonel Yularen had been quick to see the possibilities in his half-formed idea, when he had suggested it after his return from Bahryn, feeling that it was his duty to do so. The Colonel was concerned about a more pervasive and wider spread rebellion, and had decided it would be a waste of the opportunity to use Kallus only as a channel for disinformation. They may have been able to score a few easy victories by luring the rebels into a trap, but Yularen decided they should leak genuine low-level intel to gain their trust, and wait and see what opportunity might emerge later. It was no great loss to the Empire to lose a few disloyal cadets; better now, than later when they might be able to do some damage.
It was a pity that Pryce had chosen to kill one of the cadets. It seemed unnecessary. But she had been adamant, insisting that the rebels, and the remaining cadets, needed to be shown that it was not so easy to defect from the Empire. Kallus would have preferred to work without Pryce's interference. But once Grand Admiral Thrawn had arrived in the sector, and Pryce had returned, Yularen had brought them both in on the plan. They had both been unimpressed, Thrawn preferring to use his own methods to discover the larger rebel fleet he also believed existed.
Kallus hoped they would not interfere too much; now some time had passed since Bahryn, he found he was less reluctant to pursue his plan. He was enjoying the intellectual challenge in deciding what could or could not be shared with the rebels, and he was eager to finally see the end of the Ghost crew. The brief snatches of guilt he had felt initially had become easier to suppress with time.
—--
Imperial Star Destroyer
Kallus lay on his bunk, thinking about what his next move as Fulcrum should be. Thrawn continued to appear uninterested in the scheme, and his cautiousness meant he had allowed Kallus to send far fewer messages than he had originally intended. He had had to argue hard to be able to warn the rebels about the blockade around Mykapo, as Pryce was unwilling to let any agitators escape the Empire's grasp, as always. But he had managed to persuade Thrawn that letting the local rebels escape would allow better Imperial control of the remaining population, and to convince Pryce that the escapees would be destroyed soon anyway, once they had found the main base or fleet.
He sighed, too tired to continue planning, especially as he had such little say in it now. And perhaps it was for the best. He had begun dreaming of the events on Bahryn, and the guilt he had felt there had returned strongly, as he woke up each morning with Garazeb's smiling face still in his mind.
—--
Lothal
“The rebels trusted me enough to let me help them escape. A few more pieces of useful intel, and I may be in a position to attempt infiltration,” reported Kallus.
“The rebels are more naive than I expected, given your history with them. Your idea may have more merit than I initially believed.” replied Thrawn. “But don't forget, Agent Kallus, it is unlikely that it will be necessary to follow your plan through to the end. I still believe we will find the rebel fleet without resorting to such measures.”
“I still don't understand why you allowed the rebels to escape with the blueprints for the new TIE,” complained Pryce. “Now we have lost the element of surprise - the rebels would have had no chance in their first encounter with a shielded fighter.”
“Indeed,” said Thrawn. “But the rebels are careful to spread their assets thinly, never committing too many ships to any one mission. I intend for these blueprints to act as bait. The factory on Lothal could prove to be a threat the rebels can not ignore, forcing them out into the open.”
“And if that doesn't work?” replied Pryce, “We can't allow this insurrection to carry on much longer.”
“Don't worry about that, Governor. I have another way to find the rebel base.”
—--
Imperial Star Destroyer
Kallus watched the exploding ship, appalled by the loss of life, and the waste of resources. Anger flared in his chest, at the thought of the arrogant Chiss responsible. Although ensuring he always had several contingency plans in place, he had still underestimated the rebels.
Kallus had been relieved when he had heard about the plan to use Infiltrator droids to search for the rebel base. He had thought it would be a solution to his problem; a way to find the rebels without using his Fulcrum identity, leaving him free of guilt. But Thrawn had instructed him to inform the rebels about the droids, reasoning that the outcome would still be in his favour. Due to the limited number of droids available, it was unlikely a droid would be sent to the correct planet, so it was a low risk way to increase the rebel’s trust in Agent Kallus. And if a droid had found the base, Thrawn had believed that any forewarning would not have helped them, as even if they had disabled it, the loss of contact would still have revealed the base's location. Obviously, he had been wrong.
His gut twisted as he realised this failure had made it more likely Thrawn would want to use Fulcrum as a way to get to the rebels, as there had also been no indication that they were planning an attack on Lothal. His anger rose again, as he understood how much he had been relying on the Infiltrator droids. He needed the rebels dealt with; he needed this to be over. His dreams of Orrelios had become more disturbing lately; now ending with passionate kisses and roving hands.
He knew he couldn't possibly be attracted to the lasat. It must just be the feelings of guilt producing the unwelcome images in his subconscious mind. Those feelings had grown stronger after his encounter with Jarrus and Bridger. Unbidden thoughts of how Orrelios would have reacted to discovering the identity of Fulcrum had plagued him, as much as he had tried to ignore them. He knew he was doing the right thing, doing his duty, but still, the idea of Garazeb proudly believing he had helped recruit a highly-placed Fulcrum agent made his heart ache.
—--
Imperial Star Destroyer
“Well done, Agent Kallus,” said Governor Pryce. “Now we have the location of the rebel base, we will be able to crush the resistance in this area.”
“Patience, Governor,” said Thrawn, smoothly. “Both Colonel Yularen and I agree that the rebels operating out of this base are not the only ones causing problems in our sector. New intel indicates that the rebels have taken the bait, and are preparing for a combined attack on the TIE fighter factory. We will wait, and so be able to take out the whole rebel fleet at once.”
“I still believe the problem may be even more widespread,” said the Colonel. “Kallus, you will continue to act as Fulcrum. It may be possible that you will still have an opportunity for infiltration in the future. Dismissed.”
Kallus left with relief, finding the satisfaction of the others at the events of the day to be at odds with his feelings of guilt, and self-loathing. Almost everything he had done had felt wrong, but he had persisted, knowing it was necessary.
Thrawn had become impatient after the incident with the Infiltrator droids, and had begun monitoring his Fulcrum transmissions, knowing it would be detected by the rebels. He had suspected that these rebels in particular would not just stand by, knowing he was in danger. Kallas had been horrified when Thrawn had turned out to be correct, and Bridger had come to extract him. Between Bridger and the droids, they had come up with an impressive plan to both escape and keep the location of their base safe, if only he had not been deceiving them. Once he had seen the planet in question, he knew he couldn't leave with Bridger as he had originally been planning, but instead had to stay and report the location. Thankfully, he had already switched his code cylinder with Lyste's in order to continue to fool Bridger, so it had been easy to frame Lyste, then stay behind because ‘he could do more good here’.
Colonel Yularen had been present due to Thrawn deciding to let it be known that he suspected there was a mole in the ranks. Kallus didn't know if it was in response to Pryce’s constant complaints that his Fulcrum messages were making the Empire look bad, or if he had another, less obvious, reason. He had been concerned at first, but it had turned out to be useful when he was able to make it look like Lyste was the spy. He had felt bad about doing it, but that had been relatively easy to solve. He had persuaded Yularen that Lyste was too loyal and dedicated an officer to be wasted, and Yularen had taken him into his custody, promising he would be given a new identity and placed elsewhere.
The guilt he felt for obtaining the location of the rebel base by leveraging the bond he had forged with Garazeb was not so easily dealt with. When Bridger had let slip how worried Garazeb had been when they found out he had been compromised, he had felt sick, but he had pushed it down, not wanting to alert the Jedi that something was wrong. But now he was alone, and no longer able to focus on the task in hand, he felt the guilt rising back up, and restricting his breathing. He couldn't help but think, that Garazeb would have preferred to have been shot on that moon, rather than having been tricked into betraying his friends in this way. He wished he had had the strength to do it at the time, sparing them both from the horror to come.
As he entered his room, he stripped off his gloves and allowed himself to tense, his hands closing into fists. He could feel his nails digging into his palms, and concentrated on the pain, and on his breathing. His eyes burned, but he never cried, and certainly would not allow himself to do so for a rebel. Garazeb would be dead soon, along with the rest of his crew, and Kallus would be able to move on to his next task, burying the memories deep, along with those of Lasan.
Chapter Text
The past
The Ghost
“Are you satisfied that Agent Kallus can be trusted?” Syndulla asked Jarrus. “We have just dropped out of hyperspace, and I don't want to linger here too long. Ezra and Sabine have prepped the Phantom - it's ready to go. They are just waiting for you, now.”
“He seems to check out,” said Jarrus, “But I'd keep an eye on him, anyway.”
“General Dodonna, will you join me on the bridge?” said Syndulla. Dodonna nodded, and stood to leave. “Zeb, will you see to Kallus’ injuries?” she continued.
“Sure,” he replied, moving away from the wall he had been leaning on, and quickly retrieving the medkit from a discreet compartment. Kallus had avoided looking at him until now, instead concentrating on Jarrus and Dodonna as they interrogated him, but he found his eyes drawn to the contained strength in his movements.
Garazeb knelt in front of him, and gently took hold of his chin, angling his head to take a better look at his injuries. “Take it they weren't too pleased to find out you were the spy,” he said. Kallus just shook his head slightly, unable to speak past the guilt closing his throat. “Don't worry, you're safe now. Get you patched up in no time.” Kallus closed his eyes, the sincere concern evident on Garazeb's face too much for him to take.
It had been torturous, watching the battle over Atollon from the bridge of the Chimaera, as the rebel ships were destroyed, one by one. Knowing that it all sprung from an act of mercy by Garazeb, and possibly the beginnings of a friendship, that he had taken a terrible advantage of. Garazeb could be held responsible for every death at Atollon, because of him. What should have been one of his greatest triumphs as an ISB agent, was instead a hollow victory, tainted by the methods he had used, and the weakness in himself that had been brought to the surface.
He couldn't help reliving the past hours: the Fulcrum message he had sent on Thrawn's order, so that the Imperial fleet could destroy the rebel base and fleet at the same time, rather than do battle over Lothal and risk damage to the Imperial factory; the beating he had willingly submitted to, for the sake of credibility; the humiliation of being paraded as a traitor, even if he knew it was not true; the fear he had felt, defenseless in an escape pod in the middle of a battle.
Even though Thrawn had been sure that he would achieve total victory over the rebels, Colonel Yularen had wanted to keep Kallus as Fulcrum in reserve, just in case something went wrong. They had decided to make it public that he was a traitor, in hope that the news would eventually reach the rebels, and back up his claim of being a defector. Once Pryce had been unable to prevent the second Interdictor from being destroyed, he had used the code phrase they had agreed upon, and she had sent him away from the bridge, so that he could ‘escape’ and try to join the rebels. His orders were to find out where the survivors would run to, whether another base or another cell, and to attempt to find out the extent of the Rebellion. He intended to do so as quickly as possible. Perhaps the next time he was offered a promotion to a desk job he would take it, as it appeared he no longer had the stomach for field work.
“Kallus, are you ok?” he heard Garazeb say. “You can't blame yourself for what happened, you did your best to warn us.”
“I don't want to talk about it,” he managed to choke out, forcing his eyes open again.
“Yeah, I get it,” he said, understandingly. “You don't have to. But you need to take off your uniform, so I can see what else they did to you.”
Kallus tried to comply, but found his arms and ribs too stiff to remove his upper uniform; hanging from a pipe while the death troopers took turns bludgeoning him with batons would do that, he supposed. Thrawn had given them exact instructions on how badly they should hurt him; badly enough to ensure the troopers did not become suspicious of his true allegiance, but not enough for him to be incapacitated in case he had to act later.
Garezeb frowned, and started to help, easing his sleeves from his shoulders. He managed to remove his undershirt and grimaced when he saw what was underneath. Kallus glanced down at his torso and saw what he had expected - ugly bruises already starting to show, the mottling covering most of his chest and stomach. Garazeb began to apply the bacta, obviously trying to be as gentle as possible.
Kallus found himself tensing, not from the pain, but because he found himself comparing his touch to that of his imagination. His fur was softer than in his dreams, softer than he would have thought possible, on the hand that Garazeb was using to hold him steady. The other, slick with bacta, was tracing the contours of his muscles, much slower than the passionate caresses he had dreamt, but somehow far more erotic. He felt his breathing grow shallower, and knew from experience that his pupils had become dilated. He heard Garazeb inhale deeply, and felt his fingers slow further, then stop for a heartbeat, before continuing on as before.
Garazeb moved his attention to the injuries on his face, and their eyes met. Kallus stopped breathing. He could tell from the look on Garazeb's face that he knew just how aroused he was. He tried to look away, but couldn't, and only exhaled when the lasat broke eye contact.
He almost stopped breathing again when Garazeb said, “Guess we need to get those trousers off. Saw you limping, earlier.”
“If you must,” he managed. Once they had awkwardly succeeded in doing so, he leant back and closed his eyes as Zeb carefully began to apply bacta to his leg. He didn't think he'd ever felt this disgusted with himself, lusting after the being he had wronged most in the Galaxy. He tried not to think about how Garazeb would soon be dead, along with the rest of the Spectres who had welcomed him onto their ship, when he reported the location of the base they were about to reveal to him. He knew that during the weeks he would have to spend there, waiting until he was truly trusted before he made his move, he would have to avoid Garazeb Orrelios as much as possible, for both their sakes.
—--
Yavin
Kallus smiled at Zeb as they both stood facing each other, breathing heavily after another long sparring session. He tried to ignore how impressive the lasat looked, his muscles even more well defined than usual, his fur slick and shining from the sudden and intense rain shower they had been caught in. Part of his mind was trying to point out to him what other activities could cause Zeb’s chest to heave in that way, but he resolutely ignored it.
“Thank you,” he said. “That was a good workout, I needed that.”
Zeb smiled playfully, and said, “How about we try a different kind of workout?”
Kallus felt his smile freeze, and tried to think of an appropriate reply. Zeb had been flirting with him ever since Atollon, but never so explicitly, and before now he had always been able to deflect him gracefully. He had been spending far more time with him than he had planned, not able to think of a way to avoid him without seeming suspicious, although he probably could have tried harder to work something out.
Kallus hadn't been able to stop his body responding when Zeb was close, especially when relaxing together in the makeshift tapcaf in the evenings, or during their spars. Unfortunately, the other Spectres hadn't returned from Mandalore yet, and for some reason Zeb always sought out his company before any other rebels. And as they had spent more time together, he had realised his attraction wasn't only physical. His mind was fascinating, thinking of angles to things that Kallus hadn't even considered.
Kallus realised he had spent too long without replying when Zeb tossed his sparring staff to one side and moved in close. As usual, he felt his heart rate increase from the proximity. Zeb leant in and inhaled, his nose just grazing his neck, and Kallus felt himself begin to harden. He couldn't help but imagine how it would feel if Zeb used his tongue to taste his sweat, his mouth already so close. But he steeled himself, and stepped back.
“What's wrong?” said Zeb. “I know you want this too. I spent enough time around Kanan and Hera to know what a human male smells like when he's interested.”
“Zeb. We can't. It would be wrong.”
“What. Why?” he asked, frowning.
“Lasan. Everything else I did as an Imperial..” Especially the things I did as Fulcrum, and am still doing now, he thought, but couldn't say, now almost numb to the constant guilt he felt, lurking in the background.
“Kal. I told you already, I've forgiven you for all that. Like you said to Kanan, you thought you were doing the right thing. And once you found out you were wrong, you changed sides. Not everyone would do that.”
“Still..”
“Kal,” Zeb murmured.
Their eyes locked, and Kallus felt himself weaken. “I can't,” he blurted out. “Not yet.”
Zeb smiled again, and said brightly, “That's alright. I know you'll be worth the wait. Come on, we better hit the ‘freshers before the rush starts.”
Kallus just nodded, and followed Zeb back to the base from the clearing they liked to use for their spars. His instinctive response had bought him some time, and he didn't need much. He had decided to slip away from the Rebellion on his next mission, and report back to the Empire with the location of the base.
After meeting so many rebels outside of an interrogation room, he realised he had been judging them too harshly. Most were just misguided, or had been radicalised. They thought they were doing the right thing, not realising their actions just caused disruption, making things worse for the beings they thought they were helping. He no longer wished to destroy them, instead longing for a chance to show them the error of their ways. But he knew that was not possible, the Empire could not afford to show mercy with new enemies rising all the time. Although he had no desire to do so, he would do his duty, and help eliminate this threat to stability. He looked at the floor as he walked, refusing to look at Zeb, or think about soon how he was about to betray him one final time.
—--
Yavin
Kallus was lost in thought as he returned to the base, images from the mission to Ibaar still replaying in his mind. They had been sent to provide more supplies to the planet, which was still suffering under the Imperial blockade Kallus had helped set up, over a year ago. The situation had been dire, the supplies they brought not enough for the starving population. Although their presence should have been known only to the underground network, who planned to distribute the food to where it was most needed, somehow the news had been leaked, and a large crowd had gathered at the delivery site after they had arrived.
Seeing the emaciated bodies and desperate faces crowding towards them had been extremely troubling, but watching the Imperial troops mow down the crowd indiscriminately, as part of their no-tolerance policy towards civil unrest on the planet, had broken something in him. They had only just managed to escape, and as soon as they had returned to Yavin, he had fled into the jungle, needing time alone to think. He had realised Zeb had been right, he had been too afraid to ask questions, in case the answers had not been what he needed them to be. In fact, he had been too much of a coward to even admit that there were questions to be asked.
He had never thought that he would betray the Empire, had dedicated his career to finding and bringing to justice those who had. But that mission had forced open his mind, compelling him to reassess his and the Empire's past actions, and the new realisations of what he had been a part of had horrified him. He had spent hours thinking through the implications of what he had done, all the people he personally had hurt. His self hatred had been almost too much to bear. He had had to bury his feelings, pushing everything down deep, and instead concentrating on the future. Thankfully, he had not done anything on Yavin that would reveal he was still an Imperial, and so it should be safe for him to stay as he was, and begin to fight against the Empire in truth.
Kallus startled as Zeb spoke, appearing as if from nowhere. “Where’ve you been?” he said. “Been worried about you. You disappeared as soon as you got back.”
“I'm fine,” he said, tersely.
“You don't look fine.”
“Well, I am.”
"Then why can I smell blood? Let me see your hands."
"No," he said, curling his hands closed defensively, to hide the imprints and shallow cuts from where he had clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood. "There's no point. We both know what you will see."
“Kal, you know you don't have to deal with everything by yourself anymore, right?” said Zeb, reaching out to touch his arm, and looking concerned. “You know it's not your fault. You're not an Imperial anymore.”
Kallus felt sick. “Actually it is. I helped set up the blockade, remember.”
Zeb looked downcast. “I know you never wanted it to end up like that.”
Kallus had to look away. He was just thankful that the mission had been to Ibaar, where his actions had occurred pre-Bahryn, and not Mykapo. He had heard that the situation there was similar, from Mykapan refugees who had decided to join the Rebellion, but he had dismissed their words, assuming they must have been exaggerating wildly. Now he had seen what the Empire truly was, he realised how arrogant he had been, to trust his own beliefs, over eyewitness accounts. He didn't think he would have been able to stomach it, if Zeb had tried to comfort him about the circumstances there, thinking he had tried his best to prevent it as a defector, when the reality was he had helped set up the whole situation.
Zeb was still looking at him, Kallus realised. He tried to pull away, but Zeb's grip was too strong. “I just want to take care of you,” he said, in a low rumble, the sound igniting a familiar heat in Kallus. Zeb's ears perked up, and Kallus knew he could smell his sudden arousal.
Zeb's hand cupped his cheek, and Kallus shivered, his eyes drawn back to Zeb's against his will. He felt like he could drown in those beautiful yellow-green orbs, the subtle golden irises sparkling in the artificial light, like an outward representation of his inner self. He exhaled, shakily, and Zeb appeared to take that as permission, gently moving his fingers through his hair. Kallus stiffened, and Zeb said in a low growl, “Why are you still fighting this? It's what we both want.”
“I can't,” he managed to choke out, unconvincingly. Zeb moved his hand to lightly brush his fingers down his neck. Kallus inhaled sharply, feeling his resistance weaken. Before it could crumble completely, he shoved Zeb back, begging, “Zeb, don't.”
Zeb's ears drooped, and his whole body slumped, as he said, dejectedly. “I'm sorry. I won't push you anymore.”
Kallus couldn't bear it. The expression on Zeb's face hurt too much to look at, and knowing he was the cause just made it worse. Zeb turned to go, and Kallus grabbed his arm. “Wait,” he said. Maybe it didn't matter if he gave in, and took what he so desperately wanted, now that he was truly a rebel, and no longer actively deceiving him. There was no reason anyone would find out what he had done, so few people knew about the subterfuge. Almost everyone in the Empire already thought he was a traitor, now he was about to make it true.
He reached up to stroke Zeb’s face, revelling in the soft fur of his cheekbone under his fingers, and drew him down to meet his mouth. Zeb didn't hesitate, diving in to capture Kallus’ lips with his own. Eventually they both had to pull back, breathless. Zeb looked at him and frowned, saying, “Wait. You're not just doing this because you feel sorry for me, are you?”
“Of course not,” said Kallus, firmly. “I would have thought that kiss would have made that clear.” He wasn't about to try and explain how his refusal had just been hurting them both. He didn't know how to phrase it without it sounding like he did just pity Zeb. “Let me make it even clearer.” He pulled Zeb back in for another kiss, and Zeb let him. Once he felt he had made his point, he let himself become lost in the sensation of Zeb, his scent, his strength, the touch of his hands and lips, until he could barely feel his guilt and self loathing anymore.
Chapter Text
Now
Draven entered his cell and said, “What is your decision? Have you come to your senses? Will you keep quiet so you can keep fighting?”
“No,” replied Kallus. “I..”
“You can't throw your life away so uselessly,” Draven interrupted, angrily. “Not for such a ridiculous reason. You owe us more than that.”
Kallus took a breath, fighting to keep calm. “I agree,” he said, levelly. “Which is why I have a third option to propose, if you are willing to trust me.”
After a few seconds, Draven said, “Ah. The mission to Lothal.”
“Indeed. I believe l can take down the factory with no rebel casualties other than myself. At least then my death will have achieved something.”
Draven looked thoughtful, and Kallus did his best to keep his face neutral, not wanting the General to know how important the answer was to him.
“I will see what I can do,” he said eventually, and turned to go.
“Wait,” said Kallus. “I am only willing to do this if the Spectres are told the truth about me.”
Draven looked irritated. “Of course. That is why we are wasting our time here, and not working to bring down the Empire, as we should be. But the rest of Command will not like it. They don’t want it to be widely known that we have been deceived by an Imperial agent for so long.”
“Tell them that is my price. It is not much, in exchange for the destruction of Thrawn's TIE factory. The Spectres can be trusted with this.”
“Very well. I will be back as soon as a decision is reached.”
“Thank you. Oh, and one more thing. I want to tell them myself. But just Captain Syndulla. She can decide how to pass on the information.”
Draven just nodded as he left, his expression a strange mixture of pity and contempt, which left Kallus with an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.
—--
Kallus waited for Draven to return in nervous anticipation, too wired to sleep, although he was exhausted after staying awake all night in thought. He had spent far too much time wallowing in guilt, replaying all the bad decisions he had made. He knew the most unforgivable thing he had done was giving in to his desires, and allowing Zeb to become too attached to him. After that first night together, they had spent all their free time with each other, with Zeb practically moving in with him the next day. He had been unable to slow things down, as he had found it impossible to say no to Zeb, or even to think as clearly as he would have liked, when they were together.
After several hours of wallowing, he had managed to concentrate on what to do next. He had no intention of dying, of throwing his life away as Draven had put it. It hadn't taken him long to think of a plan. The offer of taking on the mission to Lothal should be tempting enough to Rebel Command. They knew the extent of the threat of the new TIE fighters, but so far had been unwilling to move against the factory. A plan for its destruction had been made, but as none of the rebels undergoing the mission were expected to survive, the decision on whether or not to go ahead had stalled in endless debate. He knew it was risky, but he thought this was his best chance at survival.
—--
Hera entered the cell, looking confused and concerned. “General Draven told me to tell you that they agree to your proposal, and he will be along later to talk about the details. But Kallus, what is going on?” she said. “You told Zeb you were on a mission. Why are you locked up? Why did I have to leave my blaster outside?”
Kallus hesitated. Draven had obviously told her nothing, which he supposed is what he had asked for. He hastily gathered his thoughts, and said, “I have something to tell you. But I need you to let me speak, without interrupting. This is going to be hard for me to say. You can tell the rest of your crew, in fact, you should tell them, but you can't let anyone else know.”
“Ok..,” she said, doubtfully.
“I..,” he stalled, and had to try again. “I only truly defected a few months ago. And I swear, I am a loyal Rebel now. But before that, I was still working for the Empire. I was sent here to discover the location of your new base, after I successfully found the location of Atollon by posing as Fulcrum. But my deception was discovered, which is why I am here, in this cell, I mean.”
Hera didn't reply immediately, eyes searching his face as if looking for the truth. He assumed she had found it when her hand twitched, and she said coldly, “Are you done?” He nodded. “I understand why they took my blaster now,” she said. “Why am I here?”
“I need you to tell Zeb what's happened. I want..”
“Are you serious?” she interrupted, fiercely. “You can't ask me to do that.”
“You have to. Now that Rebel Command knows the truth about me, he needs to know too. And I am about to go on a mission I won't return from. I don't want him to mourn my death. It will be better if he hates me, like he should."
“You're an idiot. He loves you. Don't you think he is going to mourn you whether he knows the truth, or not?”
Kallus felt like he had been punched, and had all the air driven from his chest. “I didn't realise he loved me,” he said, stiffly, trying not to let Hera see how badly her words had affected him. He had thought he had reached the limit of how guilty he could feel, but he had been wrong. His chest felt tight, like the guilt was becoming physical, and trying to crush the life from him. He should have realised that telling any of the Spectres in person about his betrayal was a mistake, that it would be too painful for him to even talk about Zeb with any of them.
“Like I said. You're an idiot,” she said, dismissively.
“Hera, I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted.”
“Don't you dare call me Hera. How many people died at Atollon because of you? And then you let us befriend you, let Zeb fall in love with you, while you were planning to betray us again. I can't believe I ever trusted you, ever started to think you weren't so bad.”
“I didn't let anything happen with Zeb until I had really left the Empire. You need to tell him that,” he said, urgently.
Hera looked disgusted. “That doesn't make it ok. You still lied to him, used him. And I don't understand why you are telling me, and not Zeb, if you care so much about him knowing the truth. You're many things, but I didn't think you were a coward.”
“Neither did I. But it turns out we are both wrong.” Hera said nothing, and he cracked under the intensity of her gaze. “Hera, please..I can't see him again. I know I don't have the strength to do it. And I think it would be best for him if it came from someone else. He shouldn't have to hear me say how much I betrayed him.”
Hera frowned. “Maybe you're right. But I will never forgive you for making me do this. Or for anything else you have done.”
“You don't have to. I'll be dead soon enough. I'm being sent to destroy the Imperial factory on Lothal. You know what that means.”
“I can't believe General Draven is willing to trust you to leave the base, after everything.”
“I assume he will have the base on high evacuation alert, until the factory is gone, and I have proven I could be trusted.”
Hera looked skeptical. “Well, it is not my decision.” She sighed. “Is there anything else you want me to say to Zeb for you?”
Kallus thought carefully. He knew that he loved Zeb too, but he didn't think that telling him now would help the lasat deal with his coming pain. He couldn't think of anything to say that would make it easier for Zeb, it was one of the reasons he didn't want to speak to him himself. “Just tell him I'm sorry,” he said, finally. “And I was just doing my duty.”
Hera looked disgusted again. “Is that all? After everything you've done?”
“It is.”
“Fine. Good luck with the mission. I look forward to hearing about its successful completion.”
Kallus could almost hear the ‘and your death’ that she had left unspoken.
—--
Zeb was worried. He had been living with a constant feeling of low level dread since Kal hadn't returned from his mission on time, and now Hera had made sure they were alone so she could talk to him privately. He could barely breathe while he waited for her to speak, fearing the worst, her solemn expression not reassuring him.
“Zeb. I need to tell you something. But before I do, you can't talk to anyone except the other Spectres about this. I mean it, no one else can know what I'm about to tell you.”
He nodded impatiently, and said, “Is it about Kal? He was meant to be back days ago, but I haven't heard from him. No one will tell me what's going on.”
“It is. I'm so sorry Zeb, but he betrayed us all. He was never a real Fulcrum, it was all a lie. He was working for the Empire the entire time.”
Zeb almost laughed, it was so ridiculous. But Hera was looking at him with such concern on her face. He felt a trickle of fear run down his spine. “No. I don't believe you,” he said.
“Zeb, I'm sorry. But it's true.”
He felt the dread solidify in his gut. “No. Not Kal. It must be a mistake,” he said, desperately. “Kanan said he was ok, that he was one of us. How could he be wrong?”
“I don't know. I didn't ask. But it's not a mistake. I talked to Kallus myself and he admitted it.”
“Hera. Please…You didn't see him after Ibaar. There's no way he's still an Imperial.”
“According to Draven that's when he defected. Kallus said he only began things with you once he had stopped working for the Empire.”
Zeb could feel himself start to detach. He was still struggling to believe that what Hera was saying could be true, but he knew she wouldn't lie to him. Although, he had thought the same about Kal.
“He defected?” he asked, trying to understand.
“Yes, eventually. Not when it mattered,” she said bitterly.
Zeb thought about it. The timing made sense. He still didn't think Kallus could have faked his reaction after the mission to Ibaar. And it was getting harder to deny what he was being told in the face of Hera's calm insistence. He could feel fury gathering behind the shock, as the extent of the betrayal became clear. Grief too, for what he had lost, although it had never been real.
“Zeb..,” said Hera, sympathetically, jolting him from his thoughts.
“I believe you,” he said, abruptly. “But I need to hear it from him. Where is he?”
“I'm sorry, it's too late. He's already gone. He volunteered for the mission to Lothal. They will be announcing it later, the TIE factory is destroyed.”
“He's dead?”
Hera nodded. “He told me to tell you he's sorry, and he was just doing his duty.”
Zeb growled. He had never been able to decide if he admired, or hated, Kallus’ devotion to his duty. He hated it now. “Wait,” he said, suddenly. “How long have you known about this?”
“A few days,” she admitted, unhappily. “I wasn't allowed to tell you until now.”
“Karabast.” He felt twice betrayed. He glowered at her, before hurriedly turning away, needing urgently to get off the Ghost, get away.
“Zeb. Where are you going?”
“Dunno. Jungle, I ‘spose. Need to be alone.”
“Are you sure that's a good idea?”
“Yeah. Trust me. It's better if no one is around me right now. I'll be fine, I promise. Just might take awhile. Don't come looking for me, I'll be back when I'm back.”
“I understand. Just know, we're here if you need us.”
“I know,” he said, as he left. But it didn't help him right now. He had felt this way before, after Lasan. He knew that once the shock faded, no one else would be able to help with the storm of emotions ready to descend upon him. He would have to ride them out by himself. He knew his anger was likely to be destructive, and he didn't want to accidentally hurt anyone. And he really didn't want any witneses while he grieved the man who had betrayed him so terribly. When Hera had told him he was dead, the pain had almost pierced through the protective shield of his shock. He could feel the knowledge of it clawing at his mind, demanding his full attention. Instead, he concentrated on his footing as he made his way deeper into the jungle, looking for the perfect spot to hole up in.
Chapter Text
Several months later
Zeb felt the fur on the back of his neck prickle, and start to lift. “Something's wrong,” he said, scanning the area to identify the cause of his unease. The abandoned factory seemed to swallow the light, the dark spaces impenetrable even to his superior eyesight.
“So a normal mission, then?” said Sabine.
“Are you sure?” said Hera. “It doesn't seem like there's anything here. Maybe the intel was wrong”
“I dunno. But something seems off.” His ears swivelled, and he turned to face the direction from which he could suddenly hear a faint rhythmic noise, which soon resolved into footsteps. “Someone's coming. That way.”
“What do you want to do, Hera? Evade, or capture and question?” asked Sabine.
“I don't think anything is here. It's probably just someone looking for shelter, before that storm hits. We don't need to make their day any harder. Let's get back to the Ghost.”
“Sounds good,” said Zeb, smoothly replacing his bo-rifle on his back as they started retracing their steps. Zeb tried to keep track of the extra footsteps, but it became impossible when they returned to the part of the factory lined with durasteel, their own footsteps echoing loudly around them.
Zeb rounded the corner, and walked straight into a being backing towards him, too busy shooting at some Imperials to have seen him. Zeb stepped back, but before he could grab his bo-rifle, both Imperials had been taken care of. Before the being had fully turned to face him, Zeb could feel himself tense. The way they moved, the scent now registering in his mind. He was both unsurprised, and totally stunned, when he saw Kallus standing before him.
—--
Kallus' heart hurt when he saw the fleeting expression of joy on Zeb's face being quickly replaced by anger, but he tried to ignore it. “Zeb,” he said. “We need to..” He scowled as he had to block a punch, and quickly stepped back. “Stop it. We don't have time for this,” he said, irritatedly. Zeb growled at him, and unslung his bo-rifle, aiming it at Kallus.
Kallus sighed in relief as Hera and Sabine appeared around the corner. “We need to go. Now. This building is set to blow in a few minutes.”
“What the..,” exclaimed Sabine. “How..?”
“Later. Follow me. We don't have time to get completely clear, but I know a safe place.”
“Hera?” said Sabine.
“Do it,” she replied. “We can sort this out afterwards.”
—--
As Kallus had hoped, the spot he had chosen was well built, and had easily sheltered them from any falling debris. He had placed the explosives strategically, intending to leave this area undamaged, in order to have a place to retreat to, in case he was delayed unexpectedly while leaving the secret research lab.
Once the last shocks had subsided, Hera turned to Kallus. “I'm ready for your explanation now,” she said.
“Not here. It won't take long for a patrol to be dispatched, to investigate the explosion.”
“Good point. You better come with us back to the Ghost.”
“As you wish.”
As Kallus followed Hera and Sabine, he wondered if he had any chance of slipping away. He had no intention of being taken back to Yavin IV if he could help it. Unfortunately, with Zeb watching his every move, bo-rifle still out, and his blaster confiscated, it seemed unlikely.
No opportunity presented itself, and soon he was walking up the Ghost's ramp, trying to keep his frustration from showing on his face. The familiar surroundings didn't help his mood, reminding him of the brief time after he had defected when he had almost been happy.
“Rex,” said Hera on her comm. “I need you and Zeb in the turrets. I'll take us out of here. We may have attracted some Imperial attention. We ran into a small complication.”
“Anything serious?” he replied.
Hera looked at Kallus with a frown as she said, “I hope not.” As she started climbing the ladder she said to Sabine, “Can you handle things here till we hit lightspeed?”
“Of course,” she said, unholstering a blaster.
“Zeb. Come on,” said Hera.
“But Hera..” He waved his bo-rifle at Kallus.
“Now,” she said, still climbing. Zeb growled, and muttered something under his breath, but put away his rifle and followed Hera up the ladder.
“So, you're not dead then?” Sabine said to Kallus once they were alone.
“Evidently.” He scowled. “But I don't know how much longer that will last, now I'm here.”
—--
It didn't take long for the rest of the crew to return to the hold.
“We are safely on our way to Yavin,” said Hera. “I believe you owe us an explanation.”
“What do you want to know?” asked Kallus.
“You can start with how you survived on Lothal. The rebels there reported your death.”
Kallus nodded. “As you know, the local rebels acted as support only. I entered the factory complex alone, to plant the explosives. I discovered General Draven had implanted a tracker in my arm before I left Yavin, so I was able to remove it and leave it in the building before I escaped. The tracker would have shown my location as buried deep in the rubble. It would have been impossible to make a visual confirmation of my death, especially with all the Imperial activity.”
“But how did you get out? There wasn't meant to be time to set the explosives and get away without the explosives being discovered and deactivated.”
Kallus winced. “That information was based on my initial debrief, while I was still an Imperial. I held the information back during my later interrogation, hoping l could think of a way to use it.”
“So you lied,” said Zeb with disgust. “Again.”
“What would you have done if General Draven hadn't let you take the mission?” said Hera. “The factory could still be standing now. When it should have been destroyed months before it was.”
“I would have told the General the truth, before they killed me,” he said, offended. He decided to let the rest of the accusation go unanswered, not wanting to get into how he had justified to himself not revealing the true timings of the patrols in the factory earlier, when he knew how important its destruction was to the Rebellion.
Hera looked unimpressed. “What have you been doing since you faked your death?” she asked. “Why were you at that abandoned factory?”
“I have continued to fight the Empire, where I can. That factory was hiding a secret research laboratory, although I couldn't confirm the exact nature of the research. I was able to gather it was of some importance, so I chose to remove it. How did you hear of it?”
“Why should we tell you?” Zeb said, belligerently.
“I have also been acting as a Fulcrum agent again, sending information on to the Rebellion when I can't make use of it myself. I didn't send this intel, as I was dealing with the situation personally. I find it concerning that it got to you anyway.”
“Can't be a less trustworthy source than you,” Zeb muttered.
“Maybe we should let Zeb and Kallus talk alone, before we get to Yavin and it gets complicated,” suggested Sabine, looking at Hera pointedly.
“Ain't got anything to say to him,” said Zeb.
“Zeb, please. If I could explain..” said Kallus, before he could stop himself.
“Don't need to hear anything you got to say, either. I read your letter.” Zeb glared at Kallus, as Kallus’ felt his stomach drop. He had never meant for Zeb to see that, had deleted it unfinished.
“Don't even need to be here,” Zeb grumbled, as he moved past the others to leave the hold.
Hera glared at Kallus too. “I think that will do for now. Sabine and Rex can look after you, 'till we get to Yavin,” she said, before following Zeb out of the hold.
Kallus gritted his teeth, hoping to hide his distress from the others, but knowing he was failing.
“It's good to see you again, Captain,” said Rex. “Impressive work on Lothal. Really messed with the Imps there.”
“I doubt anyone else will be pleased to see me again. And I think they stripped me of my rank, when I left,” replied Kallus.
“You never know,” said Rex.
“He's right,” Sabine added. “The destruction of the TIE factory had a big impact. They sent Thrawn and his fleet into the Unknown Regions as punishment. It was a nice touch, taking credit for it over the Empire's holo transmission, making Thrawn look like a fool for his part in leaking the intel to the Rebellion, and your defection.”
“And it can't have helped, that he failed to completely destroy us at Atollon,” said Rex.
Kallus winced, hating to be reminded about Atollon. He looked at them suspiciously. “Why are you being nice to me? You should hate me for what I did to Zeb.”
“I know what it's like to keep on doing my duty when it feels like it's the wrong thing to do. Remember what I told you about the Umbara campaign?” Rex replied.
“Ah. Yes, I do.”
“I know I should hate you,” said Sabine, “but I can't. I've also done terrible things for the Empire, things I regret. I know what that feels like. But I hate what you did to Zeb. If you hurt him again, I will make you regret it.”
“I intend to keep as far away from Zeb as I can,” said Kallus. When he had left Lothal, he had planned on never seeing him again. He had ached for him, the pain physical, but he knew that it was better for Zeb to think he was dead. Seeing him again had been as bad as he imagined, the guilt about what he had done twisting his insides. He couldn't bear to see the hurt hiding beneath Zeb's anger, knowing he was the cause.
—--
Zeb lay curled on his bunk, back to the door. Hera had tried to talk to him, but he had brushed her off, needing to be alone. He felt sick, remembering that rush of joy and relief he had felt, when he first saw Kallus again. He felt pathetic, that he had spent so long mourning the man who had betrayed him over and over again. He couldn't believe he had ever trusted him, considering their past. He retched, thinking of how proud he had been when he had found out that Kallus was Fulcrum: of himself, for managing to persuade a fanatical Imperial that he was on the wrong side; and of Kallus, that he had faced his mistakes head on, and decided to change. But it had all been a lie. The man he had fallen in love with hadn't existed. He didn't know how he would cope, having to see him back on Yavin, if that is what Rebel Command chose to do with him. He didn't even let himself think about how much worse it would be, if he had to experience his death for a second time. Knowing he didn't want Kallus to die just made him hate himself even more.
Notes:
Kallus and Sabine spent quite a bit of time together, before Kallus was found out, with Sabine showing Kallus her favourite ways to use explosives. He found that very useful, once he was on his own.
Chapter Text
Kallus wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had not missed Yavin's humid climate. He wished for some water, his throat dry from his long debrief with Draven, in which he had been asked to recount his activities since escaping Lothal. Thankfully, acting as Fulcrum again had meant that he had proof that he had continued working against the Empire. Lyste was also in the meeting, as one of the few people on Yavin that knew the truth, checking as they went along that his memory of the Fulcrum messages he had sent agreed with their records, and that his other claims could be verified.
“I have been authorised to decide what to do with you, without needing to report back to Command,” said Draven. “As Lyste has been unable to find any discrepancies in your testimony, I would like to offer you your original position, working for me in Intelligence. You can obviously be trusted, as no Imperials have come to destroy the base. And what you have achieved alone is impressive. Since the Spectres know about your past, and have shown they can keep the secret, there is nothing stopping you from coming back.”
“And if I would prefer not to?”
Draven frowned, then sighed. “You want to fight the Empire. You can do that best from here. Kallus, please make the sensible decision, this time.”
Kallus was unsure if there was a threat hidden in his words, but he was correct, nonetheless. “Thank you. I accept. But I would appreciate it if you can keep me away from Captain Orrelios.” He noticed Lyste looked unhappy, but the General looked pleased.
“Good to have you back. The official story is that you have been working undercover, and faked your death during the Lothal mission to avoid any complications,” said Draven, making his way out of the room. “I will see you tomorrow, first shift.”
“Understood,” said Kallus, turning his attention to Lyste once Draven had left. Kallus saw Lyste flinch as he noticed Kallus looking at him.
“Lyste. I would like to talk to you,” he said.
“Why?” he asked, a little fearfully.
“I want to reassure you that I bear you no ill will for reporting me. It was the right thing to do, since you were under the impression I was still working for the Empire. You would have been derelict in your duty if you had not done so. You do not need to fear any repercussions from me. In fact, I wanted to apologize to you for my actions aboard the Chimaera.”
Lyste had slowly relaxed as he spoke, but he tensed again at his last words. “I trusted you,” he spat, “and you let me think I was going to die.”
“My apologies. I argued on your behalf, and was led to believe you'd be safe and that it would be explained to you why what I did was necessary.”
“Hah,” he said, bitterly. “Eventually. I wasn't told anything on the way to Coruscant, and then there were days of interrogation to prove my loyalty before I was told what had actually happened. And how my contribution was appreciated, how important the work you were doing was, how you were going to bring down the Rebellion from the inside. Guess that didn't happen.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't realize.”
“You should have. You were ISB too. It just made it worse when I was assigned to assist Colonel Yularen because he needed somebody working for him who knew about your assignment. I was stuck there, with them.”
“May I ask, is that the reason for your defection?”
Lyste scoffed. “Of course. If they had asked, I would have done anything for the Empire but they treated me like a traitor and told me I could never contact my family again, and then they expected me to be grateful for my promotion. I couldn't see things the same way after that. I asked to be transferred after you supposedly died the first time, as I wasn’t needed anymore, and eventually I managed to find a way into the Rebellion.” As he talked, Lyste appeared to deflate, his anger losing its fire.
“I'm sorry,” Kallus said again.
“You know what the worst thing is? You destroyed my life for the Empire and then you just walked away from it yourself. Twice I've been told you died and each time I was happy. I hope it sticks next time,” Lyste said, trembling.
Lyste walked away, and Kallus let him. He could think of nothing to say to that. He wondered how many other lives he had ruined in the name of the Empire. Although at least Lyste was safe from being corrupted or discarded, even if he was separated from his family. A better outcome than most people whom he had interacted with had obtained.
—--
Kallus sat nursing a Corellian ale in the tapcaf, exhausted, but reasonably content. He had easily settled back into his old routine in Intelligence, the main difference being a friendlier attitude towards him from his colleagues. It seemed the mission to Lothal had changed people's opinions of him, presumably due to the positive side effects. Not only had Thrawn left the sector, but Pryce had been demoted back to Planetary Governor, with the Sector Governorship moving to Garel, a nepotistic appointment which had resulted in a far less effective leadership in the area.
Lothal itself had also seen positive effects. What remained of what had been Konstantine’s fleet after the Battle of Atollon had relocated to Garel, effectively lifting the blockade. With the Imperial factory complex destroyed, the Imperial presence planetside had decreased, and the exploitation of the planet's resources had also declined. Bridger had been enthusiastic about the improvements when he returned from a secret mission to the planet with Jarrus, not long after he had returned to Yavin himself.
He sighed as he saw a pilot he knew, through a colleague in Intelligence, approaching with two drinks. His new popularity had some significant downsides. Almost every night he had ventured out for a quiet drink, which was becoming less often, he had had to fend off unwanted advances.
“Handsome guy like you shouldn't be sitting alone,” slurred the pilot.
“I prefer it that way,” he replied, wishing the other man was sober. It usually made it easier to turn them down.
“C’mon,” said the pilot, attempting for seductive. “I know how to show you a good time.”
“I'm not available,” snapped Kallus.
“Oh? Thought you and Zeb were over?”
“Yes. But he dumped me.”
“So? Not sure why that's a problem?”
“It's a problem because I'm not interested in anyone else,” he said without thinking, blushing a little once his brain caught up with his mouth. He stood up in a rush, jostling the pilot and spilling his drinks as he strode past him, wishing he hadn't had a second ale after pulling an all-nighter, and hoping the man was drunk enough to forget their interaction.
—--
Kallus saw Zeb coming towards him, and diverted away from the main thoroughfare through the temple, taking a barely used route that took him to an entrance on the side of the building, and into the deserted area between the temple and the jungle. He was surprised when he heard footsteps, and Zeb emerged from the portal behind him. So far, they had managed to avoid each other completely, and it had seemed that Zeb was just as interested in doing so as himself.
“What have you been saying about us?” said Zeb, belligerently, moving towards him.
“What do you mean?” asked Kallus in confusion.
“Been hearing about the base, people wondering why I dumped a catch like you.” He sneered. “I'd told people it was mutual. So what've you been saying?”
“Oh. I'm sorry. I suppose I did say something to that effect. I just wanted to be left alone.”
“Great. Well maybe leave me out of it next time.” He turned to go.
“Zeb, I'm sorry. For everything,” Kallus said to his back.
Zeb turned back with a growl. “Sure. But that doesn't change anything. You still lied to me. Used me. You said you loved me, but how could you have, when you lied for so long.”
Kallus could see the pain in Zeb's eyes, that he couldn't hide behind the anger, and felt his heart clench. “I could hardly tell you the truth,” he said. “I didn't want to hurt you. And I didn't want to lose the chance to make up for my past. If only a little.”
“Ain't what I meant. You let me fall in love with someone who wasn't real. I didn't even know you.”
“You did. Everything I told you about myself was true. The things we talked about, I had never told anyone else.”
“Nah. I fell in love with a man brave enough to admit he was wrong and do something about it.”
“But I did, in the end. And as I told Hera, I waited until I had defected before we started anything. You were never dating an Imperial.”
“Didn't stop you from tricking me into sending that message to the ISB, to fool them into thinking you were dead.”
“Zeb, I..”
Zeb snarled. “Don't. When you were Fulcrum, I thought you were risking your life every day. Atollon was my fault. I persuaded the others that you needed to be extracted. I was an idiot. How could you kiss me, knowing you made me responsible for so many deaths? You couldn't have really loved me, and done that.”
“I was weak. I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone would find out.” Kallus stepped back at the look of fury on Zeb's face, knowing there was no point trying to persuade him that his feelings had been real, and knowing he wouldn't want to hear that that he loved him still.
“What, were you going to lie to me for the rest of our lives?” Zeb said bitterly. Kallus couldn't reply to that, overcome by the idea that Zeb had been thinking of them that way.
Zeb looked disgusted. “It makes me sick, remembering how happy I was to see your signal, knowing you had survived. But really, you were the one that had set the whole thing up and I was just welcoming a sandviper onto the ship.”
Kallus tried to pull himself together, and take control of the conversation. “Stop,” he said. “You overestimate my importance, and yours. Your chances were slim as soon as Thrawn arrived in the sector. He did not take direction from me. As soon as the Infiltrator droid found your base, it was only a matter of time. Atollon would have happened, with or without me. I was only ever the back-up plan. In fact, without my Fulcrum warning about that droid, your base would have been discovered much earlier.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? ‘Cause nothing can. I should've killed you on Bahryn.”
“Most of the intel I gave you as Fulcrum was real; it needed to be, for you to trust me” said Kallus, trying to comfort Zeb's conscience, at least a little. “If you had killed me on Bahryn, Wedge and Hobbie wouldn't be here, and plenty of others would still be suffering.”
Zeb's face distorted in rage, and he grabbed Kallus’ jacket and shirt in his fist, picking him up and slamming him against the temple wall. “Stop. Talking,” he bit out, punctuating each word by smashing him into the wall again. “You have any idea how much it takes, not to hurt you? Seeing you act all friendly with the other rebels, fooling them like you fooled me.”
“I'm sorry, Zeb,” he managed to get out. “I never planned to come back. It was better that you thought I was dead.”
“Nah. I'm glad I know you're alive. Means I can hate you now.” Zeb released Kallus, and he half fell to the ground. Zeb looked down at him with disgust again, shaking his head once, before leaving quickly, muttering to himself.
Kallus stayed on the ground and slumped against the wall. He took his gloves off hurriedly, and clenched his fists, needing the sting to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He clenched his jaw, and concentrated on the pain, not letting himself think about Zeb and how much he had hurt him.
“Are you ok?” said Sabine, appearing to have materialised out of thin air.
“I'm fine,” said Kallus, trying to collect himself, appalled that he hadn't noticed her arrive.
“Sure,” she said, sarcastically, “I hope I never see what ‘not fine’ looks like.”
“What do you want?” he said, his tone harsh, just wanting to be left alone.
“Me and Rex saw you and Zeb come out here. We wanted to check you were both ok.”
“And you got me?”
“Yeah, Rex is taking Zeb drinking. He's the only one with a chance of keeping up with him.”
“While I appreciate the sentiment, it has come to my attention that Zeb would prefer it if I didn't spend time with other rebels,” he said, stiffly.
“Are you saying he told you you couldn't have friends?” said Sabine, incredulously.
“Of course not. But if there is anything I can do to make things easier for him then I will do it.” He levered himself up off the ground awkwardly, brushing off bits of crumbled stone from his trousers. “I'll be fine,” he said, moving past Sabine to return to his quarters, where he could have some privacy.
“Just take care of yourself, ok,” she said, sounding concerned.
“I will,” he replied, wondering why she cared. He picked up his pace, needing to be alone to process what had just happened, and what exactly Zeb had meant by saying he could hate him now.
Notes:
Kallus had prearranged with Colonel Yularen that he would arrange a coded message to be sent back to the ISB if he died while still undercover, by asking a rebel if he would send a message to 'his family' notifying them in the event of his death. Kallus hadn't actually organised this by the time he defected, so he asked Zeb to send the message for him while on a mission, by pretending he wanted to let 'his family' know he was safe. He thought it would be safer for him to defect, if the ISB thought he was dead. Kallus had told Draven about this after he had been found out, and Draven had taken Zeb to task about it afterwards.
Yularen wasn't impressed by Lyste, only letting him work for him because it was convenient as he knew the truth about Kallus, and to keep him close. Lyste only worked on the Fulcrum assignment for him. Once Yularen received the message and thought Kallus was dead, he was happy to be rid of him, and let him transfer to a different department. But as Lyste had been officially convicted of treason, he had been given a new identity and his family were told he was dead, so he joined the Rebellion, hoping that if the Empire could be brought down, he would be able to see them again. He didn't dare try and see them otherwise, as he knew the ISB were watching them, making sure he didn't get in contact with them.
Chapter Text
Kallus was surprised to hear a knock on his door. Even before he had stopped interacting with the other rebels for anything other than work, no one had visited him in his room. He was even more surprised to find Zeb on the other side. “Zeb? What are you doing here?” he said.
“Uh. Can I come in?” Zeb muttered. Kallus gestured him inside, and closed the door behind them. “ ‘M leaving with the Ghost for a while, not sure when we'll be back.” Zeb trailed off, and Kallus raised an eyebrow, encouragingly. Zeb looked at the floor, and rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable. “Just wanted to say, I don't hate you anymore. Thought you should know, in case, well, you know..” Kallus was too confused to reply. Zeb grunted in annoyance, and said, “Look, I'm saying I've forgiven yer.”
“How can you possibly have forgiven me for doing what I did to you, for Atollon? Especially as you had had to forgive so much already,” Kallus said, not understanding.
“‘Cause I know you thought you were doing the right thing. Still hurts, how you used me, but it's not really any different from before. If I forgave you for Lasan, I can forgive you for this. And you were probably right, Thrawn would've found us, sooner or later.”
“Thank you for telling me,” said Kallus, awkwardly, not sure how else to respond.
“Guess, maybe, you were who I thought you were before you defected, just not as smart as I imagined,” said Zeb.
Kallus felt a flicker of hope flare up in his chest. Zeb must have seen something in his expression, as he hurriedly added, “Not saying I want to get back together, or anything. I ain't forgiven you everything. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for starting something with me, when I was still in the dark. And I don't know if I could trust you, now.”
“I understand,” Kallus said, sadly. “I'm sorry. I wish I had been stronger.” Zeb nodded, and turned to go. “Zeb..” Zeb paused, and Kallus said to his back, “I don't think we can be friends. It will be too hard.”
Zeb's shoulders hunched, and he said, “Yeah. I know.”
As he left, Kallus called after him, “Good luck for the mission,” hoping the pain he was feeling wasn't too evident in his voice. A sense of finality settled on him like a heavy weight as he was left alone in the room. He was glad that he had been forgiven for Zeb's sake, as he knew how corrosive hate and anger could be. Zeb had seemed almost at peace with the situation now, almost back to his old self. But he felt an overwhelming sense of dread. It had seemed like goodbye; like it was the last time they would see each other, or if they met again, as if it would be purely professional.
Kallus could feel tears forming, and for once, he let them fall. If only he hadn't been so weak, and had resisted Zeb's advances, maybe they could have had a chance in the future, once the fallout from Lyste's arrival had been resolved. But he had ruined everything with his impatience. He let the tears run unchecked as his heart broke. He knew it was just what he deserved, but he hated himself for stealing Zeb's chance at happiness. He had seen in Zeb's eyes that he still loved him. He started sobbing as he imagined what their future could have been, if he had just asked questions earlier, and been exactly the person Zeb thought he was, right from the start.
It was like a dam had broken; now he had started crying he couldn't stop. His chest heaved, and he struggled to breathe, as he wept for all the beings he had hurt in the past. For Atollon, for Lasan, for Ibaar, for so many others. For the idealistic youth he had been, before he had allowed the Empire to reshape him into their tool. But for Zeb, most of all. He collapsed onto his bed, weighed down by his regrets, and mourning everything he had lost.
—--
Zeb sighed. He had thought talking to Kallus before they left would make him feel better, help him move on, but seeing him up close had just made him understand how much he still loved him. At least he didn't have to feel so bad about that anymore. Seeing how hard Kallus had worked for the Rebellion once he was back, hearing how he had risked his life to save one of his fellow rebels on a mission, had made him realise he had known the real him the whole time. Once Kallus had finally seen the truth, he had been brave enough to face it, and do something about it, completely abandoning his previous life in the process, just like Zeb had thought he had originally.
He couldn't help but miss him. He had got used to seeing him from a distance, and knowing he was near. It had been weeks since the Ghost had left Yavin, and each day it got harder, not easier. It didn't help that their mission seemed to be going nowhere; Kanan and Ezra no closer to finding Ahsoka than when they had started. Zeb didn't understand how they expected to, since they had nothing to guide them but visions from the Force, and that never seemed to work out well.
The whole thing didn't make sense to him. Ezra's story about another reality inside the Jedi Temple on Lothal, saving Ahsoka from Vader in the past, and barely escaping the Emperor himself had sounded like banthashit, but Kanan had backed him up, and they both seemed convinced that they would be able to find her. But Zeb wished they would realise it was pointless, so they could go back to Yavin, and real missions, where he could smash some bucketheads, and stop having so much free time to think about Kallus. He knew he still couldn't forgive him, knew getting back together would be a mistake, but he still wanted to anyway. He needed a proper distraction, not this aimless wandering.
—--
“Can't we go any faster?” Zeb grumbled.
“Zeb, you know we are going as fast as I can manage,” Hera replied, exasperatedly. “Please stop asking.”
“S'just..”
“I know. We'll be there soon, don't worry.”
Zeb grimaced, finding it impossible not to worry. His claws dug into his seat, as he sat tensely behind Hera and Rex in the cockpit, desperate to get back to Yavin. He had barely been able to breathe, his chest tight and painful, ever since the Ghost had received the general order to stay away from Yavin, closely following an appeal for any ship that was near enough to go to Scarif, to support the Rebel fleet there. They had been too far away to make it to Scarif in time, only hearing about the Rebel losses there later, along with the news that the Death Star had been destroyed. Events had moved too fast for the Rebels to account for all of those missing or killed in action, and no one had been able to tell them if Kallus was still alive, only that he had left Yavin to take part in the battle over Scarif.
Zeb felt dread clawing at his insides. He was sure Kallus had gone where the danger was greatest, not paying attention to his own safety. He couldn't get the image of his face the last time they had spoken out of his mind; the depth of the pain in his eyes, the hopelessness. He was terrified that Kallus had taken that with him into battle, like a sentence of death.
—--
Kallus saw a flash of purple out of the corner of his eye, and turned to look, as he always did. He was shocked to discover it actually was Zeb, towering over the crowd of rebels who were busy packing up the base for evacuation. He saw Zeb was scanning the crowd, appearing frantic even from this distance, but he froze when his eyes met Kallus’, slumping in what Kallus dared to believe was relief. Zeb gestured to a secluded corner, and Kallus made his way over, suddenly on edge.
Before he could say anything, ask what was going on, Zeb pulled him in tight, nuzzling his neck and breathing him in. Kallus surrendered into the embrace, ignoring his uncertainty, instead allowing himself to sink into the feeling of safety he always felt in Zeb’s arms. He felt like he could stay there forever, but unfortunately, the circumstances of an evacuation couldn't allow that.
“Captain Kallus,” a voice said, hesitantly.
Kallus reluctantly pulled away from Zeb, and said, “Yes?”
“You have been allocated a space on the Basilisk. It leaves in half an hour,” said the rebel, a human male whom Kallus was sure was called Ven.
“Thank you,” he replied.
“Nah,” Zeb said, “He's coming on the Ghost with me.”
Kallus turned to stare at Zeb in disbelief, as Ven said, looking at his datapad, “The Ghost? I don't have that on my list of available ships.”
“Yeah, we just arrived,” said Zeb
“What is its capacity?” Zeb looked blank. “How many beings can your ship take? We are struggling to get everyone off the moon safely.”
“Oh. Better talk to Hera about that.”
“Captain Syndulla,” Kallus added, helpfully.
“Right,” Ven said. “I'll put you down as leaving on the Ghost shall I, Captain?”
Kallus just nodded, and turned back to stare at Zeb as Ven left. “ What's going on, Zeb? Why do you want me on the Ghost?”
“After what happened to Alderaan..I dunno, just seems wrong to waste a chance to be happy, when so many people have lost theirs.”
Kallus’ heart skipped a beat. “Do you mean you want to get back together?” he asked, hope warring with disbelief. “I thought there were things you couldn't forgive me for.”
“Guess I have no choice. I love you too much, not too.”
“Are you sure? I never want to hurt you like that again.”
“Yeah, I know.” Zeb looked at him fiercely. “I trust you.”
Kallus hated himself, but he didn't want to lie to Zeb anymore. “Maybe you shouldn't,” he said, “as you know, what I did as Fulcrum was not the worst thing I have done in the name of duty. I can't promise I wouldn't do something similar in the future, or that I would choose you over the Rebellion. Maybe you would be better off without me.”
“Won't be the worst risk I take, fighting the Empire. Anyway, that's why I want you on the Ghost, as one of us, so I can keep an eye on you.”
“I don't think..”
“Kal,” Zeb interrupted with a growl. “Stop it. I know who you are. And I love you for it.”
“Zeb..” Kallus felt a tear drop, his emotions spilling over, and felt his heart swell when Zeb used his thumb to wipe it away.
“Thought you didn't cry?”
“Indeed. However, I appear to have picked up the habit,” he said, trying to control himself..
“C'mon. Let's get back to the Ghost before Hera gives my bunk away.”
“How are we all going to fit if I join your crew?” asked Kallus, as they started walking in the direction of the Ghost's usual spot, thankful for the change in topic. “As far as I am aware, all the rooms are taken.”
“Heh. Turns out Kanan and Hera are having a kit together, so they decided to stop pretending, and move into one room. Rex and Ezra can share Kanan's old room, and you can bunk with me.”
“Isn't that a bit fast? We don't know if we can make this work yet.”
“I guess you could share with Rex, but there ain't much privacy on the Ghost. Gonna make certain things pretty difficult, if you know what I mean.”
Kallus smirked as Zeb nudged him, the lasat hardly being subtle. “Good point,” he said. “Let's try your first option initially, and see what happens.”
Zeb leered, then mumbled, “Pretty sure we both know what's gonna happen,” and Kallus smiled, elbowing him in the side.
“Wait. Hera's pregnant?” he said, suddenly realising what he had heard. “Are you sure I'm going to be welcome? It was already unlikely, without that.”
“I wouldn't say welcome,” Zeb admitted, “But they all agreed to it. Kanan won't mind, I think. He's been acting weird since he got back from Lothal. You know, that mission him and Ezra were on when we brought you back to Yavin? Heard him say to Hera that he shouldn't be here, that he saw a different future, somehow, and he thinks you're the reason he's still alive.”
“I don't understand.”
“Yeah. That makes two of us.”
Kallus hesitated as they reached the Ghost, still concerned about his reception.
“C'mon,” said Zeb. “Better to get it over with.”
Kallus nodded, and followed him up the ramp.
—--
Zeb smiled happily against the back of Kallus’ neck, as he held him tightly in his bunk. The relief he had felt on finding Kallus alive was still bubbling in his chest, keeping him awake while the others slept. He knew trying again would be hard, once the relief wore off, with how much Kallus had hurt him in the past. But he was already halfway to forgiving him for starting their relationship on false pretences, after experiencing for himself how hard it had been to keep away from him. He didn't think he would have been able to resist either, if their positions had been reversed.
What he had found the hardest to deal with, and hadn't even been able to admit to anyone, was how he hadn't been able to trust himself anymore after finding out the truth about Kal. Knowing he had been fooled for so long, by someone he had trusted so much, had shattered any confidence he had managed to regain since his failure on Lasan. But realising that he had only been wrong about Kallus’ allegiance and actions, and not about the man he really was, had made him realise his instincts hadn't been so bad. It would still be hard to forgive him for the way he had made him feel, but he was determined to try.
Kal stirred, and Zeb realised he had been gripping too tightly. “Are you alright?” Kal asked, sleepily.
“Yeah,” Zeb whispered, aware of Ezra on the top bunk, the Ghost still too crowded after the evacuation of Yavin for privacy. “Go back to sleep.”
Kal yawned, and rolled over, snuggling into Zeb's chest. Zeb gathered him in close, his heart full. He was sure he could trust him now, after seeing everything he had done in the past months. He still couldn't believe that he had stopped socialising with the other rebels completely, just because he had said he hadn't liked it. He had almost thought he had stopped out of fear, but Sabine had told him what Kal had said to her, that he had done it to make things easier for him. It was impossible not to love him more for that, when he knew Kal couldn't have expected anything in return.
He knew he was risking his heart again, but he knew he would regret not trying again more than he would regret failing. But he didn't think they would fail, when both of them wanted to succeed so much. They were both too stubborn for that.
Notes:
To clarify, Ezra and Kanan went to stop the Emperor removing the Jedi Temple on Lothal, due to a vision of Ezra's. They both entered the Temple, and saved Ahsoka. (Lothal was easier to travel to, due to the blockade being lifted.) Rex joined their crew full-time, to help search for Ahsoka. Hera was never made a General, because most of Season 4 never happened.
Let me know if you have any other questions about this AU in the comments, or on tumblr (I have the same username.) I have tried to fit a lot in, in a relatively short story. Thank you for reading.
built_on_hope_1977 on Chapter 1 Tue 21 Oct 2025 07:53PM UTC
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leftcolornacho on Chapter 1 Wed 29 Oct 2025 10:41AM UTC
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leftcolornacho on Chapter 3 Wed 29 Oct 2025 12:07PM UTC
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Andeantorrentduck on Chapter 3 Wed 29 Oct 2025 12:42PM UTC
Last Edited Wed 29 Oct 2025 12:43PM UTC
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