![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Give Me Reasons to Believe
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Kallus/Zeb
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A comment by AP-5 leads Zeb to realize he's interested in Kallus, but he's not sure what to do about that except agree to a mission that ends up changing everything between them.
A/N: Written for the Kalluzeb Reverse Minibang. Title is from the song Gone Gone Gone by Phillip Phillips. Thank you to Foxen for the amazing art work, several ideas, and betaing the fic. Thank you to MapleOwl18 for the beta. Art by Foxen, which is at the end of the fic on AO3.
Give Me Reasons to Believe:
Zeb pauses in the doorway of the Intelligence office when Kallus looks up and smiles at him. The smile takes over his whole face, he practically beams at Zeb. Zeb grins back. For a moment, that’s all they do: just pause and grin at each other. Then AP-5 makes a noise of annoyance and suggests to Kallus, “You could ask why he’s here.”
Kallus blinks and briefly shifts his gaze to AP-5, before looking back at Zeb. “Did you need something Garazeb?”
His given name in Kallus’ mouth probably shouldn’t be such a distraction, but Zeb finds himself mulling it over instead of answering, then only realized he hasn’t answered when AP-5 makes a noise of exasperation.
“Do you need to go to maintenance?” Kallus asks as he turns to the droid.
“No, I don’t, but we can continue this later,” AP-5 answers
Kallus frowns at AP-5. “We’re still working.”
“It is now my downtime. You’re scheduled for downtime as well. We can continue this in the morning,” AP-5 says as he stands. “I will message you with my schedule tomorrow and you can decide when I should schedule you into my work time.”
“We have several other maps to get through,” Kallus says slowly.
“They’re in my databanks and they’ll still be in my databanks tomorrow,” AP-5 insists before he turns to exit. He pauses by Zeb. “He’s scheduled for downtime for the rest of the night. You may have to sit on him to get him to take it.”
“What?” Kallus asks.
Zeb shakes his head. “I’d squash him.”
“You would not,” Kallus defends himself.
AP-5 mutters something about not having the processing time to deal with their antics and promptly pushes past Zeb. He’s not sure if he wants to question AP-5 or turn back and protest Kallus’ words.
“Come here,” Kallus tells him.
Zeb crosses his arms.
“You’re not going to squash me,” Kallus insists.
“You want me to sit in your lap?” Zeb manages to choke out as he suddenly realizes how much he wants to see what it’s like to sit on Kallus.
“To prove a point,” Kallus tells him.
“Right,” Zeb agrees.
Kallus pushes his chair slightly away from his desk. Zeb hesitates for one more brief moment, then he makes his way over and carefully sits in Kallus’ lap. Kallus’ arms wrap around his waist and he can feel Kallus’ nose pressing against his back. Kallus shifts his head so the side of his head pressing against Zeb’s back and Zeb doesn’t want to move. He’s used to others sitting in his lap, not him relaxing on someone else. It’s pleasant. It’d be more pleasant if he wasn’t worried that they’re combined weight might break the chair. Kallus’ hands slide to his sides, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.
“Hey, relax,” Kallus reassures. “I wouldn’t risk Alliance resources, the chair will hold.”
“I might squash you though.” Zeb means for his tone to be flippant, not the rumble that comes out. He shifts and glances back.
Kallus meets his eyes, his thumbs are still rubbing. It’s soothing. Zeb doesn’t want to move.
“Well, you didn’t come here to remind AP-5 he’s got downtime or test chairs. Did you need something Garazeb?”
Zeb somehow, he’s really not sure how, manages not to tell Kallus to always use his given name. Instead he explains why he came to Kallus’ office, “Rex made dinner. We’re eating on the Ghost tonight.”
“You could’ve just commed.”
Zeb snorts. “If we’d commed you’d have asked for a few more minutes and ended up working for the rest of the night.”
Kallus makes a noise of amusement. Their eyes meet again, before Kallus says quietly, “Touché.”
Zeb makes himself get up, even though he really wants to keep Kallus’ hands on him and Kallus under him. Zeb pauses at the thought, fur bristling slightly. That makes it seem like he wants sex with Kallus. Zeb can admit that he does, but would Kallus even be interested in sex with him? They’re friends. He’s relatively sure that Kallus prefers men, but that doesn’t mean Kallus would be interested in him.
“What’s wrong Garazeb?” Kallus asks. His tone sounds relaxed, but his posture is now alert, eyes accessing.
Yeah, Zeb isn’t about to talk about his attraction to Kallus. He’s not risking their friendship. He’s got too few friends to even consider it. That’s a good reason to resist the urge to sit on Kallus again, right? “Just hungry Kal, let’s go.”
Kallus, at least, doesn’t call him on the lie, and lets him keep his privacy.
The meal is warm and pleasant. It feels like a family meal, rather than how rushed it sometimes feels to eat in the mess of the ship the Ghost is currently parked in. Zeb feels a growing satisfaction run through him as he watches Kallus relax in increments as they all listen to Rex, Rau, and Sabine talk about the pathfinders training they’ve been devising. Hera offers advice from time to time. When they're done eating both he and Kallus offer to take care of clean up. Rex pats him on the shoulder before he and Rau leave, still debating how they want to introduce their recruits to fighting staff based weaponry. The electrostaffs that the Empire is fond of aren’t bo-rifles, but Zeb is relatively sure both he and Kallus will be asked to help.
“I thought Rau was helping you with your flight school,” Kallus asks Hera.
“He’s been splitting his time between the pathfinders and the pilots since we have a large number of both here,” Hera explains.
Kallus nods.
“I’m heading back to my room,” Sabine announces. “I’ve got a few more ideas for the mural I’m planning.”
She pauses to give Hera a hug and wave to them before stepping out of the room. Hera yawns. She rubs her face. “I think I'm heading to bed. Anything else either of you want me to bring up with my father when I meet up with him?”
Kallus shakes his head. “We’ve already discussed that.”
Hera nods.
“How’s Jacen?” Zeb asks.
“With Maz,” Hera says. “She says she’s got a way to shield him until he can be taught to do so himself.”
“Are you meeting up with Maz too?” Kallus asks.
Hera smiles. “Eventually, as long as it’s safe.”
“Good,” Zeb says.
“I’ll stop on Lothal on my way back, check in with Wolffe and his team,” she informs them.
Kallus nods. “Moving the clone recovery program there seems to have been beneficial for him.”
“It has,” Hera agrees, before she stifles another yawn, wishes them a good night, then heads to her room.
Zeb glances at Kallus, who is regarding the dirty dishes.
“How about I wash and you dry?” Kallus proposes.
“Sounds good,” Zeb agrees. He’s not a fan of getting wet. He’s relatively sure Kallus knows where all the dishes go now, so it feels like Kallus is considering what he’ll be more comfortable with. It makes Zeb smile.
After they get started, find a bit of a rhythm to the washing, drying, and putting away, Zeb asks, “Am I allowed to know what you and AP-5 are working on?”
“The Alliance needs a new base after Yavin and Hera needs a new location for her flight school. AP-5 was the one to suggest Atollon, so we’re going to see if he has any other ideas,” Kallus explains.
Zeb considers this, “Anything I can help with?”
Kallus’ smile makes Zeb grateful he offered.
“I’ll have to scout some and it’d be safer not to have to do so on my own,” Kallus says.
Zeb thinks about spending time alone with Kallus, on a small shuttle and isn’t sure if he should object so he doesn’t put himself in an awkward position or if he wants them to leave immediately so he can see if flirting with Kallus would lead anywhere.
"Is that an invite?" Zeb asks, unable to help himself.
"Do you want it to be?" Kallus volleys back. This is flirting, right? This has to be flirting.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t offering my expertise,” Zeb tells him, letting his voice rumble just a bit. Their eyes meet and their hands pause. Zeb would really like to kiss Kallus, but the thought that a relationship could ruin their friendship makes him hesitate and reconsider. It would be a relationship with Kallus and he hasn’t tried for a relationship in years. He hasn’t thought he’d have the emotional energy to consider one and yet here Kallus is, standing in front of him, already his friend. Zeb wants and he hasn’t wanted more than a one-night stand with anyone in so long that he’s almost not sure how to start.
“Is there any food left?” Chopper beeps loudly. Zeb startles and Kallus catches the plate in his hands before he can drop it.
“Thanks,” Zeb tells Kallus before he rounds on Chopper. “You don’t eat.”
“Meorti does,” Chopper whirls, referring to the alliance engineer following the droid back to the Ghost, like a stray tooka. One of the few humans, who Chopper likes ever since she fixed his maneuvering leg.
“I can go to the mess,” Meorti tells Chopper.
Zeb snorts. “At this time? There won’t be much left that’s good.”
“Rex made stew,” Kallus informs her as he settles the plates back on the counter. “We can heat some up.”
“Told you!” Chopper gloats, before he rolls off. “See you tomorrow.”
“I don’t…” Meorti starts as she frowns at the departing Chopper. “You don’t…”
“There’s plenty,” Zeb reassures her. “It won’t take long to heat up.”
“Do you want something to drink?” Kallus asks, drawing her attention back to them.
As Kallus gets Meorti a drink and convinces her to sit down while they fix her dinner Zeb grabs a medium sized pot and the leftover stew. As he starts heating it up Kallus goes back to finishing the dishes.
“What have you and Chopper been working on?” Kallus asks.
“Helping Starros repair her ship,” Meorti answers.
They spend the rest of the evening getting to know Chopper’s new friend. Zeb’s learned, over time, that it's always a good idea to make friends with the engineers and mechanics that work with the Alliance, especially if Chopper likes them. Still, it means he and Kallus aren’t alone again since Kallus leaves about the same time Meorti does.
The next day when the mess is serving a sandwich that Kallus likes, Zeb figures bringing him lunch is the perfect way to reiterate that he’s interested in traveling with Kallus to help find them a new base. When he gets to Kallus’ office AP-5 is already there. For a moment he worries he’ll interrupt, but as he stops AP-5 stands and reminds Kallus that it’s his scheduled lunch break.
“You don’t have a lunch break,” Kallus frowns.
“You do,” AP-5 reminds. “Organics must intake food to continue to run efficiently. Finish sorting through the information I gave you and if you need me again we’ll correspond our schedules another time.”
Kallus sits back in his chair and sighs,”That’s fine. Thank you.”
AP-5 nods and leaves. He nods at Zeb as he passes. Zeb nods back, briefly wondering if AP-5 is leaving so he and Kallus will be alone. Chopper would mock him, but Zeb can’t tell with AP-5. He smiles slightly as he steps into Kallus’ office. Kallus is frowning at his datapad. Zeb uses his foot to knock on the doorframe. Kallus turns and a smile lights up his face. He takes in the trays. “Did you bring me lunch?”
“Are you going to stop for lunch?” Zeb teases.
“This is a coordinated effort between you and AP-5,” Kallus grumbles as he leans back in his chair. It reminds Zeb of sitting in Kallus’ lap and suddenly, desperately, he wants that again. It takes him a moment to realize his eyes have strayed to Kallus’ thighs. Kallus is watching his ears with a look of fascination on his face. Zeb isn’t sure what to say so he steps into the room and sets the trays down, grabbing the seat across from Kallus that AP-5 just vacated.
“You and AP-5 settle on a place?”
Kallus picks up his sandwich. “A few. Draay 2 and an abandoned Republic station are the closest to where we are planning to come out of hyperspace.”
“Even if the station’s no good there might be supplies there,” Zeb comments as he picks up his plate. “How are you planning to get there? Hera’s taking Chopper and the Ghost on her trip.”
“Meorti thinks I might be able to convince Starros to take us,” Kallus says.
“You mean for the right price,” Zeb comments. The Rebellion seems to keep picking up smugglers.
“She did just get free reign on Alliance supplies to fix her ship, we might be able to negotiate something,” Kallus says confidently.
Kallus looks less confident when he’s talking to Sana Starros. She crosses her arms, but lets him finish describing the mission he would like her to pilot for. Zeb isn’t sure how he got roped in for emotional support since he thought Kallus and Sana were friends. Sana makes a noise of derision when Kallus is done. Kallus raises his eyebrows.
“You’re lucky I like you Alex,” she grumbles. “Alliance better be providing the fuel and supplies. Who else is on the team besides you and Orrelios?”
“I was going to get an astromech,” Kallus tells her.
“My ship doesn’t require an astromech...but it’ll be easier to do weird hyperspace jumps, which is probably what you’ll want, with one,” Sana says. “Which droid?”
“Have you worked with Ar-Six?” Kallus asks.
“Ar-Six is good,” Sana agrees. “What about Meorti?”
“An engineer might be useful,” Zeb points out.
Kallus smirks. Sana rolls her eyes.
“Does Meorti realize you’re flirting yet?” Kallus asks.
“None of your business Alex, none of your business,” Sana says as she looks between Zeb and Kallus. Is that a pointed look? Does she think they’re flirting? Zeb’s been flirting, but he’s relatively sure he’s being subtle. As Sana walks away she says, “Let me know when we leave.”
“I could show up with Tolvan,” Kallus threatens.
Sana waves an unimpressed hand at him. “She’s avoiding me as much as I’m avoiding her. Neither of us is being sloppy about it, but good luck.”
Kallus glances at him. Zeb knows that Tolvan is a recent Imperial defector.
“I’m missing something,” Zeb admits.
“They both dated the same woman,” Kallus tells him. “They have the same ex-girlfriend.”
Sana definitely thinks he and Kallus are flirting, Zeb realizes. Does Kallus think they’re flirting? Why is this so difficult? Usually he feels more confident than this. He’s successfully had sex with Humans before! He doesn’t want just sex with Kallus though, he wants more than that, and it’s making him feel awkward. He’s suddenly grateful that this trip isn’t just him, Kallus, and a droid in the Phantom. Maybe he can convince Rex to come?
“I’m going to talk to Rex,” Zeb informs Kallus. “Let me know when we leave.”
It takes him a moment to find Rex. He’s setting up an out of the way room for sparring.
“I’m not getting stuck on a shuttle when you two realize your feelings for each other and can’t do anything about it because I’m there,” Rex tells him. “So that pleading look can...no.”
“I haven’t even asked you for anything yet!” Zeb protests. “What do you mean feelings for each other?”
“Kriffin hell,” Rex mutters. “Don’t pretend to be stupid.”
“I’m not pretending!”
Rex glares at him.
Zeb groans and stares down at his feet, pressing his toes into the mats on the floor. “He hasn’t said anything.”
“Have you?” Rex challenges.
“It’s not just us in a shuttle,” Zeb protests, changing the subject. “We’re getting Sana to take us, with Meorti and Ar-Six.”
“Ar-Six is around?” Rex asks, his eyes widening.
“Yeah,” Zeb frowns.
Rex grins. “She used to run around with the Jedi keeping them out of trouble.”
Zeb tilts his head. “There were ways to keep them out of trouble?”
Rex sighs and runs a hand over his bald head. “There were ways to get them out of trouble once they found it and ran headlong right into it?”
“That sounds more right,” Zeb agrees.
Rex snorts.
“What?” Zeb frowns.
“You’re the one walking headlong into trouble and I’m not about to help, you two deserve each other,” Rex declares.
Zeb tilts his head in the other direction. This isn’t helpful at all. Rex throws his hands up in frustration and makes Zeb help him move several more mats around.
“Why don’t you make your pathfinders do this?” Zeb complains.
“This is barely exercise to you,” Rex mocks.
Zeb shrugs, that’s true enough at least.
“You two find me a nice planet so we can punish people by making them fill sandbags, then they can build me a sparring pit.”
“Is this some Republic era training tactic that isn’t often shared?” Zeb asks.
Rex snorts, but doesn’t answer. “I’ve got training to do. Rau can’t go with you because he’s got to take over Hera’s classes while she’s gone and so I have to fill in his spots. We might be able to spare Sabine.”
“I thought she was going with Hera?”
“Probably not the best idea, letting Chopper be the only one who can man the guns in the Ghost,” Rex says. “Still, it’s up to Sabine.”
“She’ll want to see Jacen.”
“That’s true,” Rex agrees. “I miss that kid.”
“We all miss him.”
Rex nods, then runs a hand over his beard. “So why are you wasting time talking to me when you could be talking to Kallus?”
“Talk to Kallus, that’s your advice?”
Rex’s eyes narrow. “You’re older than me. How old are you?”
Zeb growls in defeat and walks away before Rex can mock him anymore. He should know better than to find Sabine and tell her about the mission. She’s clearly already packing explosives and paints to go with Hera.
“Just what do you think you’ll have to blow up?” Zeb asks cautiously.
“I can’t know that until I need them and I refuse to need them and not have them,” Sabine reasons. Then she pauses to grin at him, “Wait, are you and Kallus…”
Zeb backs away. He considers pointing out they’re both adults now, but sibling mockery is universal and isn’t controlled by age or maturity. He escapes to the cockpit hoping that maybe a conversation with Hera will help him sort where his head is at before he gets onto a ship with Kallus for an unknown length of time. Besides, he can admit more things to Hera than he can Sabine. She pauses her systems check to listen to him. As a smile spreads across her face Zeb realizes her advice is going to be the same as Rex’s.
“It looks like you already know what I’m going to say,” she comments.
“Talk to him seems to be the consensus,” Zeb admits. He runs a hand over his face and groans. He shakes his head. “It’s just difficult and I might screw everything up!”
Hera studies him silently for a moment and Zeb worries he brought up bad memories. Her smile turns melancholy as she reaches out and takes his hands, squeezing his fingers. “Will you regret not trying?”
“Yes.” The word is automatic. It sits there between them before Zeb even realizes he’s spoken. He makes himself take a calming breath, a technique Kanan taught him as he clarifies. “Second chances are rare.”
Hera watches him, face sympathetic and waiting. She’s giving him space to find his words.
“It’s difficult to accept though. I know we could go on as friends. I know he’d let me. I have doubts and I worry about...I keep stopping myself from saying anything because it might ruin our friendship, but I think part of me still doesn’t think I deserve this.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” Hera’s words are sympathetic, full of understanding. They both have their guilt. Zeb knows they’ve handled it differently, but that doesn’t mean the way they cope isn’t rooted in similar trauma. Zeb suddenly wants to apologize. He’s trying to decide his next steps forward in regards to Kallus, but he doesn’t want to bring up bad memories for Hera. He doesn’t want to hurt his friend.
“Chava would probably have already hit me with her staff,” Zeb tries.
Hera laughs, even though there are tears welling in her eyes. She wipes at them. “Why would she think you need sense smacked into you?”
Zeb snorts. That’s one way to put it. He sighs, “I’m not religious, but the universe is dark right now and we’re taught that one of the ways Ashla fills it with light is with love. I know that sounds…”
Zeb trails off, the words leaving him. He’s not sure how to describe what he’s thinking. Hera squeezes his fingers and he looks at her. “You deserve to be happy Zeb, and if Kallus is who makes you happy, then you should embrace that and you should let him know. I hope in the end that Kanan understood how much he meant to me. He knew the Rebellion was my first priority, trying to help other people always came first for both of us, but I hope he understood that I loved him, but I regret not telling him more. I regret not knowing for sure that he understood how much he meant to me.”
“He knew.”
“And I’m always going to wish I’d told him more,” she sighs. “Talk to Kallus, see if you want the same things. Don’t deny yourself happiness when it might be right in front of you.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” Zeb reiterates.
“We’re still alive and we deserve to have lives,” Hera says. Maybe it’s the conviction in her tone, but Zeb believes her. He gives her hands a gentle squeeze and leans forward. She leans in, meeting him halfway, until their foreheads rest against each other.
“I’m eternally grateful that you’re my family,” Zeb tells her.
“I feel the same way.”
“Be careful on your trip.”
“You be careful.”
He’s packed when Kallus gets a hold of him later that day. He’s still mulling over what to say and not sure when they’ll have a moment to have a serious conversation, but Zeb is determined that they’ll talk, that he’ll find a way to say the words he needs to.
“What’s the plan?” Zeb asks as he boards the Volt Cobra, a mid size freighter. Room would be a bit tight, but she had plenty of speed and one hell of an arsenal.
Kallus is already strapping himself in. Zeb stores his bag and takes the seat next to him. Kallus smiles at him. Zeb grins back.
“I spoke with Specialist Omani and was able to get a pretty clear picture of what we’ll find on Draay 2, since she’s been there a few times, so we’re going to the space station first,” Kallus explains.
“Who’s Specialist Omani?” Zeb asks.
Kallus indicates a tiny humanoid medic sitting next to Meorti. Zeb gives Kallus a questioning look.
“She and Meorti are friends,” Kallus explains. “Meorti mentioned the mission to her and it’ll be safer with a medic, so she volunteered to come with us.”
“And she happened to know about Draay 2,” Zeb nods. “That’s advantageous.”
“I thought so,” Kallus agrees as he reaches over. For a moment Zeb thinks Kallus is going to pat his knee, but then Kallus’ hand lands on his thigh. Kallus stills, his cheeks flushing. Zeb grabs his hand, keeping it there, warm against his thigh.
“Garazeb?”
“Yes Kal?”
Kallus nods, letting his hand relax against Zeb’s thigh. It’s not talking, but it feels like a start. Of course their mission is the priority now. Once the main ship drops out of hyperspace and they take their turn leaving it’s a short hyperspace jump to the space station. It’s strange having an astromech who is helpful and almost polite. Getting a map of the space station is easy. The lights that still work get turned on. They quickly find a cache of medical supplies that are still usable and start loading them onto the Volt Cobra.
Omani is practically beaming with excitement as she controls a flatbed cart Sana had on her ship for moving cargo. Both he and Kallus are following behind carrying additional crates.
“It could be a good space once we clear it out,” Kallus says, clearly thinking out loud. “Except it’s really close to a hyperspace lane, which means it might get found more easily and would give us less time for evacuation.”
“Having enough time for evacuation is important,” Zeb comments, noncommittally. The least they can do is find the supplies the Alliance can still use and take those with them. Maybe they’ll be able to reuse the space station, or maybe they’ll only be able to use parts of it, but Zeb is sure they’ll end up cannibalizing it for something.
“I found several boxes of ration bars,” Meorti informs them over the comm.
“What kind?” Omani asks, the trepidation clear in her tone.
“Those green ones,” Meorti answers.
Omani grimaces.
Kallus frowns, glancing around the box in his arms. “What does Rex usually say about the green ones?”
Zeb considers this for a moment as they enter the ship. Then he rolls his eyes as he remembers. “That only someone named Waxer liked them and then usually he devolves into swearing.”
Kallus wrinkles his nose, then grunts as he shifts the boxes in his arms onto the shelves Sana indicated would hold them. Then he suggests, “Maybe we can make a stop on the way back to the Alliance, get him some alcohol so he’ll forgive us?”
“Alcohol works better on Wolffe or Echo. Rex was saying he wanted sandbags earlier,” Zeb puts in.
“Sandbags have a practical purpose, alcohol doesn’t,” Kallus says as they start to help Omani unload the cart. “Wait, if we get a planet with sand he’s going to make the pathfinders dig their own sparring pit. I have fond memories of that.”
“That is an actual thing, that carried over from the Republic to the Imperials?” Zeb gapes.
“From the clones,” Kallus says.
Zeb shakes his head. “Yeah, we didn’t do that in the Honor Guard.”
Kallus smiles and then pauses like he’s not sure he’s allowed to smile.
“Well, we can’t all be Honor Guard,” Sana puts in. “Let’s finish unloading so we can help Meorti.”
“Maybe there’s not only green ones,” Omani encourages, a note of hope in her voice.
“That’s what I like about you Rebellion types, so ready to hope,” Sana teases lightly.
It doesn’t take them long to unload the cart or reload it once they make their way down to Meorti. They’re halfway back to the ship when Ar-Six beeps a warning that several Imperial ships just dropped out of hyperspace and are making their way to the station. She then protests that she did a thorough scan for Imperial scanning devices.
“We must have tripped some kind of alarm,” Sana says over the comms. “You’ll have to leave the supplies, get back to the ship!”
“What about your cart?” Omani worries.
“You think I won’t bill the Alliance?” Sana volleys back. “Carts can be replaced, lives can’t.”
Sana and Ar-Six try their best to keep them apprised of where the Imperials are sending stormtroopers as they make their way back to the ship. As they cross a hallway Zeb catches a movement of white out of the corner of his eyes and the flash of a blaster going off. Terrified, he shoves Kallus out of the way. He feels the bolt hit him, then another bolt hits him. The way his limbs seize up makes him realize they’re stun bolts. It doesn’t stop him from collapsing, but at least he isn’t dead. Another bolt hits him as he crumbles to the deck. Zeb tries to move, tries to get up so he can scramble out of the way, but his limbs won’t work. He feels himself twitch, but it’s futile.
He hears a scream, guttural and full of fear. Everything is starting to go dim, but Zeb struggles to stay awake. The screaming reminds him of the way Kallus yelled his name during the Liberation of Lothal. And then Kallus is standing in front of him blaster drawn, face full of terror and determination. Zeb realizes it’s Kallus who’s screaming. He wants to reassure Kallus. He wants to wrap himself around Kallus and keep them both safe. He’s going to die. They’re not going to be able to get him out of here. They’re going to have to leave him behind to save themselves. Zeb’s last thought as he fades out of consciousness is he wonders if Kallus will kill him so that he won’t be captured, so he won’t be tortured by the Imperials. He knows it’s a standard Intelligence practice, that it’s considered a mercy, but he doesn’t think Kallus will take it that way. Kallus is still standing over him, still trying to protect him, as everything goes dark.
Zeb wakes up to the harsh light of a ship’s medical deck. He winces at the brightness. There’s a weight pressing against his thigh. Someone is holding his hand. He glances down. Kallus is sitting in one of those impossibly small and uncomfortable med deck chairs near his bed. Kallus is also holding his hand, with his head pillowed on Zeb’s thigh as he sleeps. Even sleeping there’s a worried furrow to his brow. Zeb squeezes his hand, then lets himself reach over with his free hand to run his fingers through Kallus’ hair. Kallus stirs. His eyes open.
“Hey Kal,” Zeb greets.
“I thought you were going to die,” Kallus admits.
“I thought I was going to die,” Zeb agrees.
Kallus winces. “I thought you were going to die saving my life when I hadn’t told you...when….”
He closes his eyes and squeezes Zeb’s hand.
“We need to talk, don’t we Kal?”
“I...” Kallus starts. Zeb lets himself flex his fingers, strands of Kallus’ hair sliding through them. Kallus swallows. “I guess we do.”
“You two look cozy,” Omani greets as she walks over to them carrying a stool. She sets it down near the head of Zeb’s bed. She presses a few buttons above his head and the lights dim. She hands him a remote as Kallus sits up slowly. Omani shows him how to use the remote to raise or lower the head of his bed and manipulate the lights. She takes his vital signs, smiles at both of them, and then walks away.
“What happened?” Zeb asks.
“Ar-Six has a larger weapons upgrade then what she has registered?” Kallus says. “It turns out Omani is a former Jedi? Sana and Meorti are deadly with blasters?”
“You were looking pretty deadly yourself,” Zeb tells him.
“I was terrified. I thought you’d died in front of me.” Kallus' words are soft, his eyes downcast. He’s staring at his hands. He flexes his fingers.
“I’m here. It takes more than a few stun blasts to kill me,” Zeb tries to reassure.
Kallus looks up at him slowly. He looks stricken.
Zeb swallows. “I think I liked it better when you were using me as a pillow.”
Kallus laughs sadly, glancing away from him.
“Hey, no,” Zeb protests, reaching for him.
Kallus shifts his chair closer and takes his hand.
“I’m here. I’m alive. Everyone else made it out alive and we got some supplies,” Zeb reminds.
“Mostly medical supplies, one container of ration bars,” Kallus informs him.
“Everyone made it out?”
“Yes, Garazeb, everyone made it out alive.”
“Can’t ask for better than that,” Zeb encourages. “I like the way my name sounds in your mouth.”
Kallus’ eyes widen. He wets his lips.
“I think the stun bolts are finally wearing off. Let’s see if I can get discharged and we can go talk,” Zeb suggests.
“Talk,” Kallus repeats.
“I think it’s clear now that we both want the same thing,” Zeb says. “I think it’ll help us both to make sure.”
“You’re not rejecting me,” Kallus sounds stunned.
“No, I’m not. I keep getting distracted thinking about sitting in your lap,” Zeb admits.
Kallus grins slowly, eyes shining brightly. “I’ll go find a doctor.”
As Kallus stands to leave Zeb squeezes his hands, then gives him a slight tug. Smiling Kallus leans in. “I’m supposed to tell you Ar-Six got footage she’s willing to share of me being ridiculous trying to protect you.”
“I’m going to need to see that footage,” Zeb rumbles as he lets his free hand come up to cup Kallus’ cheek.
“I’m going to tell AP-5 this is all his fault and that he set us up,” Kallus warns as his lips start to brush Zeb’s.
“He’ll gloat,” Zeb laughs. Maybe AP-5 deserves a little gloating, but only a little Zeb, decides as they finally kiss. Kallus’ lips are warm and firm against his. It’s just a brush at first, exploratory, then firm. They shift from light kisses to several slow and deep kisses that quickly make Zeb grateful that when he gets discharged they can go back to Kallus’s room, somehow Kallus managed to get assigned a private room. Zeb rubs his fingers over Kallus’ cheek as they kiss, grateful that he’s alive to feel this.
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairings: Kallus/Zeb
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A comment by AP-5 leads Zeb to realize he's interested in Kallus, but he's not sure what to do about that except agree to a mission that ends up changing everything between them.
A/N: Written for the Kalluzeb Reverse Minibang. Title is from the song Gone Gone Gone by Phillip Phillips. Thank you to Foxen for the amazing art work, several ideas, and betaing the fic. Thank you to MapleOwl18 for the beta. Art by Foxen, which is at the end of the fic on AO3.
Give Me Reasons to Believe:
Zeb pauses in the doorway of the Intelligence office when Kallus looks up and smiles at him. The smile takes over his whole face, he practically beams at Zeb. Zeb grins back. For a moment, that’s all they do: just pause and grin at each other. Then AP-5 makes a noise of annoyance and suggests to Kallus, “You could ask why he’s here.”
Kallus blinks and briefly shifts his gaze to AP-5, before looking back at Zeb. “Did you need something Garazeb?”
His given name in Kallus’ mouth probably shouldn’t be such a distraction, but Zeb finds himself mulling it over instead of answering, then only realized he hasn’t answered when AP-5 makes a noise of exasperation.
“Do you need to go to maintenance?” Kallus asks as he turns to the droid.
“No, I don’t, but we can continue this later,” AP-5 answers
Kallus frowns at AP-5. “We’re still working.”
“It is now my downtime. You’re scheduled for downtime as well. We can continue this in the morning,” AP-5 says as he stands. “I will message you with my schedule tomorrow and you can decide when I should schedule you into my work time.”
“We have several other maps to get through,” Kallus says slowly.
“They’re in my databanks and they’ll still be in my databanks tomorrow,” AP-5 insists before he turns to exit. He pauses by Zeb. “He’s scheduled for downtime for the rest of the night. You may have to sit on him to get him to take it.”
“What?” Kallus asks.
Zeb shakes his head. “I’d squash him.”
“You would not,” Kallus defends himself.
AP-5 mutters something about not having the processing time to deal with their antics and promptly pushes past Zeb. He’s not sure if he wants to question AP-5 or turn back and protest Kallus’ words.
“Come here,” Kallus tells him.
Zeb crosses his arms.
“You’re not going to squash me,” Kallus insists.
“You want me to sit in your lap?” Zeb manages to choke out as he suddenly realizes how much he wants to see what it’s like to sit on Kallus.
“To prove a point,” Kallus tells him.
“Right,” Zeb agrees.
Kallus pushes his chair slightly away from his desk. Zeb hesitates for one more brief moment, then he makes his way over and carefully sits in Kallus’ lap. Kallus’ arms wrap around his waist and he can feel Kallus’ nose pressing against his back. Kallus shifts his head so the side of his head pressing against Zeb’s back and Zeb doesn’t want to move. He’s used to others sitting in his lap, not him relaxing on someone else. It’s pleasant. It’d be more pleasant if he wasn’t worried that they’re combined weight might break the chair. Kallus’ hands slide to his sides, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.
“Hey, relax,” Kallus reassures. “I wouldn’t risk Alliance resources, the chair will hold.”
“I might squash you though.” Zeb means for his tone to be flippant, not the rumble that comes out. He shifts and glances back.
Kallus meets his eyes, his thumbs are still rubbing. It’s soothing. Zeb doesn’t want to move.
“Well, you didn’t come here to remind AP-5 he’s got downtime or test chairs. Did you need something Garazeb?”
Zeb somehow, he’s really not sure how, manages not to tell Kallus to always use his given name. Instead he explains why he came to Kallus’ office, “Rex made dinner. We’re eating on the Ghost tonight.”
“You could’ve just commed.”
Zeb snorts. “If we’d commed you’d have asked for a few more minutes and ended up working for the rest of the night.”
Kallus makes a noise of amusement. Their eyes meet again, before Kallus says quietly, “Touché.”
Zeb makes himself get up, even though he really wants to keep Kallus’ hands on him and Kallus under him. Zeb pauses at the thought, fur bristling slightly. That makes it seem like he wants sex with Kallus. Zeb can admit that he does, but would Kallus even be interested in sex with him? They’re friends. He’s relatively sure that Kallus prefers men, but that doesn’t mean Kallus would be interested in him.
“What’s wrong Garazeb?” Kallus asks. His tone sounds relaxed, but his posture is now alert, eyes accessing.
Yeah, Zeb isn’t about to talk about his attraction to Kallus. He’s not risking their friendship. He’s got too few friends to even consider it. That’s a good reason to resist the urge to sit on Kallus again, right? “Just hungry Kal, let’s go.”
Kallus, at least, doesn’t call him on the lie, and lets him keep his privacy.
The meal is warm and pleasant. It feels like a family meal, rather than how rushed it sometimes feels to eat in the mess of the ship the Ghost is currently parked in. Zeb feels a growing satisfaction run through him as he watches Kallus relax in increments as they all listen to Rex, Rau, and Sabine talk about the pathfinders training they’ve been devising. Hera offers advice from time to time. When they're done eating both he and Kallus offer to take care of clean up. Rex pats him on the shoulder before he and Rau leave, still debating how they want to introduce their recruits to fighting staff based weaponry. The electrostaffs that the Empire is fond of aren’t bo-rifles, but Zeb is relatively sure both he and Kallus will be asked to help.
“I thought Rau was helping you with your flight school,” Kallus asks Hera.
“He’s been splitting his time between the pathfinders and the pilots since we have a large number of both here,” Hera explains.
Kallus nods.
“I’m heading back to my room,” Sabine announces. “I’ve got a few more ideas for the mural I’m planning.”
She pauses to give Hera a hug and wave to them before stepping out of the room. Hera yawns. She rubs her face. “I think I'm heading to bed. Anything else either of you want me to bring up with my father when I meet up with him?”
Kallus shakes his head. “We’ve already discussed that.”
Hera nods.
“How’s Jacen?” Zeb asks.
“With Maz,” Hera says. “She says she’s got a way to shield him until he can be taught to do so himself.”
“Are you meeting up with Maz too?” Kallus asks.
Hera smiles. “Eventually, as long as it’s safe.”
“Good,” Zeb says.
“I’ll stop on Lothal on my way back, check in with Wolffe and his team,” she informs them.
Kallus nods. “Moving the clone recovery program there seems to have been beneficial for him.”
“It has,” Hera agrees, before she stifles another yawn, wishes them a good night, then heads to her room.
Zeb glances at Kallus, who is regarding the dirty dishes.
“How about I wash and you dry?” Kallus proposes.
“Sounds good,” Zeb agrees. He’s not a fan of getting wet. He’s relatively sure Kallus knows where all the dishes go now, so it feels like Kallus is considering what he’ll be more comfortable with. It makes Zeb smile.
After they get started, find a bit of a rhythm to the washing, drying, and putting away, Zeb asks, “Am I allowed to know what you and AP-5 are working on?”
“The Alliance needs a new base after Yavin and Hera needs a new location for her flight school. AP-5 was the one to suggest Atollon, so we’re going to see if he has any other ideas,” Kallus explains.
Zeb considers this, “Anything I can help with?”
Kallus’ smile makes Zeb grateful he offered.
“I’ll have to scout some and it’d be safer not to have to do so on my own,” Kallus says.
Zeb thinks about spending time alone with Kallus, on a small shuttle and isn’t sure if he should object so he doesn’t put himself in an awkward position or if he wants them to leave immediately so he can see if flirting with Kallus would lead anywhere.
"Is that an invite?" Zeb asks, unable to help himself.
"Do you want it to be?" Kallus volleys back. This is flirting, right? This has to be flirting.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t offering my expertise,” Zeb tells him, letting his voice rumble just a bit. Their eyes meet and their hands pause. Zeb would really like to kiss Kallus, but the thought that a relationship could ruin their friendship makes him hesitate and reconsider. It would be a relationship with Kallus and he hasn’t tried for a relationship in years. He hasn’t thought he’d have the emotional energy to consider one and yet here Kallus is, standing in front of him, already his friend. Zeb wants and he hasn’t wanted more than a one-night stand with anyone in so long that he’s almost not sure how to start.
“Is there any food left?” Chopper beeps loudly. Zeb startles and Kallus catches the plate in his hands before he can drop it.
“Thanks,” Zeb tells Kallus before he rounds on Chopper. “You don’t eat.”
“Meorti does,” Chopper whirls, referring to the alliance engineer following the droid back to the Ghost, like a stray tooka. One of the few humans, who Chopper likes ever since she fixed his maneuvering leg.
“I can go to the mess,” Meorti tells Chopper.
Zeb snorts. “At this time? There won’t be much left that’s good.”
“Rex made stew,” Kallus informs her as he settles the plates back on the counter. “We can heat some up.”
“Told you!” Chopper gloats, before he rolls off. “See you tomorrow.”
“I don’t…” Meorti starts as she frowns at the departing Chopper. “You don’t…”
“There’s plenty,” Zeb reassures her. “It won’t take long to heat up.”
“Do you want something to drink?” Kallus asks, drawing her attention back to them.
As Kallus gets Meorti a drink and convinces her to sit down while they fix her dinner Zeb grabs a medium sized pot and the leftover stew. As he starts heating it up Kallus goes back to finishing the dishes.
“What have you and Chopper been working on?” Kallus asks.
“Helping Starros repair her ship,” Meorti answers.
They spend the rest of the evening getting to know Chopper’s new friend. Zeb’s learned, over time, that it's always a good idea to make friends with the engineers and mechanics that work with the Alliance, especially if Chopper likes them. Still, it means he and Kallus aren’t alone again since Kallus leaves about the same time Meorti does.
The next day when the mess is serving a sandwich that Kallus likes, Zeb figures bringing him lunch is the perfect way to reiterate that he’s interested in traveling with Kallus to help find them a new base. When he gets to Kallus’ office AP-5 is already there. For a moment he worries he’ll interrupt, but as he stops AP-5 stands and reminds Kallus that it’s his scheduled lunch break.
“You don’t have a lunch break,” Kallus frowns.
“You do,” AP-5 reminds. “Organics must intake food to continue to run efficiently. Finish sorting through the information I gave you and if you need me again we’ll correspond our schedules another time.”
Kallus sits back in his chair and sighs,”That’s fine. Thank you.”
AP-5 nods and leaves. He nods at Zeb as he passes. Zeb nods back, briefly wondering if AP-5 is leaving so he and Kallus will be alone. Chopper would mock him, but Zeb can’t tell with AP-5. He smiles slightly as he steps into Kallus’ office. Kallus is frowning at his datapad. Zeb uses his foot to knock on the doorframe. Kallus turns and a smile lights up his face. He takes in the trays. “Did you bring me lunch?”
“Are you going to stop for lunch?” Zeb teases.
“This is a coordinated effort between you and AP-5,” Kallus grumbles as he leans back in his chair. It reminds Zeb of sitting in Kallus’ lap and suddenly, desperately, he wants that again. It takes him a moment to realize his eyes have strayed to Kallus’ thighs. Kallus is watching his ears with a look of fascination on his face. Zeb isn’t sure what to say so he steps into the room and sets the trays down, grabbing the seat across from Kallus that AP-5 just vacated.
“You and AP-5 settle on a place?”
Kallus picks up his sandwich. “A few. Draay 2 and an abandoned Republic station are the closest to where we are planning to come out of hyperspace.”
“Even if the station’s no good there might be supplies there,” Zeb comments as he picks up his plate. “How are you planning to get there? Hera’s taking Chopper and the Ghost on her trip.”
“Meorti thinks I might be able to convince Starros to take us,” Kallus says.
“You mean for the right price,” Zeb comments. The Rebellion seems to keep picking up smugglers.
“She did just get free reign on Alliance supplies to fix her ship, we might be able to negotiate something,” Kallus says confidently.
Kallus looks less confident when he’s talking to Sana Starros. She crosses her arms, but lets him finish describing the mission he would like her to pilot for. Zeb isn’t sure how he got roped in for emotional support since he thought Kallus and Sana were friends. Sana makes a noise of derision when Kallus is done. Kallus raises his eyebrows.
“You’re lucky I like you Alex,” she grumbles. “Alliance better be providing the fuel and supplies. Who else is on the team besides you and Orrelios?”
“I was going to get an astromech,” Kallus tells her.
“My ship doesn’t require an astromech...but it’ll be easier to do weird hyperspace jumps, which is probably what you’ll want, with one,” Sana says. “Which droid?”
“Have you worked with Ar-Six?” Kallus asks.
“Ar-Six is good,” Sana agrees. “What about Meorti?”
“An engineer might be useful,” Zeb points out.
Kallus smirks. Sana rolls her eyes.
“Does Meorti realize you’re flirting yet?” Kallus asks.
“None of your business Alex, none of your business,” Sana says as she looks between Zeb and Kallus. Is that a pointed look? Does she think they’re flirting? Zeb’s been flirting, but he’s relatively sure he’s being subtle. As Sana walks away she says, “Let me know when we leave.”
“I could show up with Tolvan,” Kallus threatens.
Sana waves an unimpressed hand at him. “She’s avoiding me as much as I’m avoiding her. Neither of us is being sloppy about it, but good luck.”
Kallus glances at him. Zeb knows that Tolvan is a recent Imperial defector.
“I’m missing something,” Zeb admits.
“They both dated the same woman,” Kallus tells him. “They have the same ex-girlfriend.”
Sana definitely thinks he and Kallus are flirting, Zeb realizes. Does Kallus think they’re flirting? Why is this so difficult? Usually he feels more confident than this. He’s successfully had sex with Humans before! He doesn’t want just sex with Kallus though, he wants more than that, and it’s making him feel awkward. He’s suddenly grateful that this trip isn’t just him, Kallus, and a droid in the Phantom. Maybe he can convince Rex to come?
“I’m going to talk to Rex,” Zeb informs Kallus. “Let me know when we leave.”
It takes him a moment to find Rex. He’s setting up an out of the way room for sparring.
“I’m not getting stuck on a shuttle when you two realize your feelings for each other and can’t do anything about it because I’m there,” Rex tells him. “So that pleading look can...no.”
“I haven’t even asked you for anything yet!” Zeb protests. “What do you mean feelings for each other?”
“Kriffin hell,” Rex mutters. “Don’t pretend to be stupid.”
“I’m not pretending!”
Rex glares at him.
Zeb groans and stares down at his feet, pressing his toes into the mats on the floor. “He hasn’t said anything.”
“Have you?” Rex challenges.
“It’s not just us in a shuttle,” Zeb protests, changing the subject. “We’re getting Sana to take us, with Meorti and Ar-Six.”
“Ar-Six is around?” Rex asks, his eyes widening.
“Yeah,” Zeb frowns.
Rex grins. “She used to run around with the Jedi keeping them out of trouble.”
Zeb tilts his head. “There were ways to keep them out of trouble?”
Rex sighs and runs a hand over his bald head. “There were ways to get them out of trouble once they found it and ran headlong right into it?”
“That sounds more right,” Zeb agrees.
Rex snorts.
“What?” Zeb frowns.
“You’re the one walking headlong into trouble and I’m not about to help, you two deserve each other,” Rex declares.
Zeb tilts his head in the other direction. This isn’t helpful at all. Rex throws his hands up in frustration and makes Zeb help him move several more mats around.
“Why don’t you make your pathfinders do this?” Zeb complains.
“This is barely exercise to you,” Rex mocks.
Zeb shrugs, that’s true enough at least.
“You two find me a nice planet so we can punish people by making them fill sandbags, then they can build me a sparring pit.”
“Is this some Republic era training tactic that isn’t often shared?” Zeb asks.
Rex snorts, but doesn’t answer. “I’ve got training to do. Rau can’t go with you because he’s got to take over Hera’s classes while she’s gone and so I have to fill in his spots. We might be able to spare Sabine.”
“I thought she was going with Hera?”
“Probably not the best idea, letting Chopper be the only one who can man the guns in the Ghost,” Rex says. “Still, it’s up to Sabine.”
“She’ll want to see Jacen.”
“That’s true,” Rex agrees. “I miss that kid.”
“We all miss him.”
Rex nods, then runs a hand over his beard. “So why are you wasting time talking to me when you could be talking to Kallus?”
“Talk to Kallus, that’s your advice?”
Rex’s eyes narrow. “You’re older than me. How old are you?”
Zeb growls in defeat and walks away before Rex can mock him anymore. He should know better than to find Sabine and tell her about the mission. She’s clearly already packing explosives and paints to go with Hera.
“Just what do you think you’ll have to blow up?” Zeb asks cautiously.
“I can’t know that until I need them and I refuse to need them and not have them,” Sabine reasons. Then she pauses to grin at him, “Wait, are you and Kallus…”
Zeb backs away. He considers pointing out they’re both adults now, but sibling mockery is universal and isn’t controlled by age or maturity. He escapes to the cockpit hoping that maybe a conversation with Hera will help him sort where his head is at before he gets onto a ship with Kallus for an unknown length of time. Besides, he can admit more things to Hera than he can Sabine. She pauses her systems check to listen to him. As a smile spreads across her face Zeb realizes her advice is going to be the same as Rex’s.
“It looks like you already know what I’m going to say,” she comments.
“Talk to him seems to be the consensus,” Zeb admits. He runs a hand over his face and groans. He shakes his head. “It’s just difficult and I might screw everything up!”
Hera studies him silently for a moment and Zeb worries he brought up bad memories. Her smile turns melancholy as she reaches out and takes his hands, squeezing his fingers. “Will you regret not trying?”
“Yes.” The word is automatic. It sits there between them before Zeb even realizes he’s spoken. He makes himself take a calming breath, a technique Kanan taught him as he clarifies. “Second chances are rare.”
Hera watches him, face sympathetic and waiting. She’s giving him space to find his words.
“It’s difficult to accept though. I know we could go on as friends. I know he’d let me. I have doubts and I worry about...I keep stopping myself from saying anything because it might ruin our friendship, but I think part of me still doesn’t think I deserve this.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” Hera’s words are sympathetic, full of understanding. They both have their guilt. Zeb knows they’ve handled it differently, but that doesn’t mean the way they cope isn’t rooted in similar trauma. Zeb suddenly wants to apologize. He’s trying to decide his next steps forward in regards to Kallus, but he doesn’t want to bring up bad memories for Hera. He doesn’t want to hurt his friend.
“Chava would probably have already hit me with her staff,” Zeb tries.
Hera laughs, even though there are tears welling in her eyes. She wipes at them. “Why would she think you need sense smacked into you?”
Zeb snorts. That’s one way to put it. He sighs, “I’m not religious, but the universe is dark right now and we’re taught that one of the ways Ashla fills it with light is with love. I know that sounds…”
Zeb trails off, the words leaving him. He’s not sure how to describe what he’s thinking. Hera squeezes his fingers and he looks at her. “You deserve to be happy Zeb, and if Kallus is who makes you happy, then you should embrace that and you should let him know. I hope in the end that Kanan understood how much he meant to me. He knew the Rebellion was my first priority, trying to help other people always came first for both of us, but I hope he understood that I loved him, but I regret not telling him more. I regret not knowing for sure that he understood how much he meant to me.”
“He knew.”
“And I’m always going to wish I’d told him more,” she sighs. “Talk to Kallus, see if you want the same things. Don’t deny yourself happiness when it might be right in front of you.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” Zeb reiterates.
“We’re still alive and we deserve to have lives,” Hera says. Maybe it’s the conviction in her tone, but Zeb believes her. He gives her hands a gentle squeeze and leans forward. She leans in, meeting him halfway, until their foreheads rest against each other.
“I’m eternally grateful that you’re my family,” Zeb tells her.
“I feel the same way.”
“Be careful on your trip.”
“You be careful.”
He’s packed when Kallus gets a hold of him later that day. He’s still mulling over what to say and not sure when they’ll have a moment to have a serious conversation, but Zeb is determined that they’ll talk, that he’ll find a way to say the words he needs to.
“What’s the plan?” Zeb asks as he boards the Volt Cobra, a mid size freighter. Room would be a bit tight, but she had plenty of speed and one hell of an arsenal.
Kallus is already strapping himself in. Zeb stores his bag and takes the seat next to him. Kallus smiles at him. Zeb grins back.
“I spoke with Specialist Omani and was able to get a pretty clear picture of what we’ll find on Draay 2, since she’s been there a few times, so we’re going to the space station first,” Kallus explains.
“Who’s Specialist Omani?” Zeb asks.
Kallus indicates a tiny humanoid medic sitting next to Meorti. Zeb gives Kallus a questioning look.
“She and Meorti are friends,” Kallus explains. “Meorti mentioned the mission to her and it’ll be safer with a medic, so she volunteered to come with us.”
“And she happened to know about Draay 2,” Zeb nods. “That’s advantageous.”
“I thought so,” Kallus agrees as he reaches over. For a moment Zeb thinks Kallus is going to pat his knee, but then Kallus’ hand lands on his thigh. Kallus stills, his cheeks flushing. Zeb grabs his hand, keeping it there, warm against his thigh.
“Garazeb?”
“Yes Kal?”
Kallus nods, letting his hand relax against Zeb’s thigh. It’s not talking, but it feels like a start. Of course their mission is the priority now. Once the main ship drops out of hyperspace and they take their turn leaving it’s a short hyperspace jump to the space station. It’s strange having an astromech who is helpful and almost polite. Getting a map of the space station is easy. The lights that still work get turned on. They quickly find a cache of medical supplies that are still usable and start loading them onto the Volt Cobra.
Omani is practically beaming with excitement as she controls a flatbed cart Sana had on her ship for moving cargo. Both he and Kallus are following behind carrying additional crates.
“It could be a good space once we clear it out,” Kallus says, clearly thinking out loud. “Except it’s really close to a hyperspace lane, which means it might get found more easily and would give us less time for evacuation.”
“Having enough time for evacuation is important,” Zeb comments, noncommittally. The least they can do is find the supplies the Alliance can still use and take those with them. Maybe they’ll be able to reuse the space station, or maybe they’ll only be able to use parts of it, but Zeb is sure they’ll end up cannibalizing it for something.
“I found several boxes of ration bars,” Meorti informs them over the comm.
“What kind?” Omani asks, the trepidation clear in her tone.
“Those green ones,” Meorti answers.
Omani grimaces.
Kallus frowns, glancing around the box in his arms. “What does Rex usually say about the green ones?”
Zeb considers this for a moment as they enter the ship. Then he rolls his eyes as he remembers. “That only someone named Waxer liked them and then usually he devolves into swearing.”
Kallus wrinkles his nose, then grunts as he shifts the boxes in his arms onto the shelves Sana indicated would hold them. Then he suggests, “Maybe we can make a stop on the way back to the Alliance, get him some alcohol so he’ll forgive us?”
“Alcohol works better on Wolffe or Echo. Rex was saying he wanted sandbags earlier,” Zeb puts in.
“Sandbags have a practical purpose, alcohol doesn’t,” Kallus says as they start to help Omani unload the cart. “Wait, if we get a planet with sand he’s going to make the pathfinders dig their own sparring pit. I have fond memories of that.”
“That is an actual thing, that carried over from the Republic to the Imperials?” Zeb gapes.
“From the clones,” Kallus says.
Zeb shakes his head. “Yeah, we didn’t do that in the Honor Guard.”
Kallus smiles and then pauses like he’s not sure he’s allowed to smile.
“Well, we can’t all be Honor Guard,” Sana puts in. “Let’s finish unloading so we can help Meorti.”
“Maybe there’s not only green ones,” Omani encourages, a note of hope in her voice.
“That’s what I like about you Rebellion types, so ready to hope,” Sana teases lightly.
It doesn’t take them long to unload the cart or reload it once they make their way down to Meorti. They’re halfway back to the ship when Ar-Six beeps a warning that several Imperial ships just dropped out of hyperspace and are making their way to the station. She then protests that she did a thorough scan for Imperial scanning devices.
“We must have tripped some kind of alarm,” Sana says over the comms. “You’ll have to leave the supplies, get back to the ship!”
“What about your cart?” Omani worries.
“You think I won’t bill the Alliance?” Sana volleys back. “Carts can be replaced, lives can’t.”
Sana and Ar-Six try their best to keep them apprised of where the Imperials are sending stormtroopers as they make their way back to the ship. As they cross a hallway Zeb catches a movement of white out of the corner of his eyes and the flash of a blaster going off. Terrified, he shoves Kallus out of the way. He feels the bolt hit him, then another bolt hits him. The way his limbs seize up makes him realize they’re stun bolts. It doesn’t stop him from collapsing, but at least he isn’t dead. Another bolt hits him as he crumbles to the deck. Zeb tries to move, tries to get up so he can scramble out of the way, but his limbs won’t work. He feels himself twitch, but it’s futile.
He hears a scream, guttural and full of fear. Everything is starting to go dim, but Zeb struggles to stay awake. The screaming reminds him of the way Kallus yelled his name during the Liberation of Lothal. And then Kallus is standing in front of him blaster drawn, face full of terror and determination. Zeb realizes it’s Kallus who’s screaming. He wants to reassure Kallus. He wants to wrap himself around Kallus and keep them both safe. He’s going to die. They’re not going to be able to get him out of here. They’re going to have to leave him behind to save themselves. Zeb’s last thought as he fades out of consciousness is he wonders if Kallus will kill him so that he won’t be captured, so he won’t be tortured by the Imperials. He knows it’s a standard Intelligence practice, that it’s considered a mercy, but he doesn’t think Kallus will take it that way. Kallus is still standing over him, still trying to protect him, as everything goes dark.
Zeb wakes up to the harsh light of a ship’s medical deck. He winces at the brightness. There’s a weight pressing against his thigh. Someone is holding his hand. He glances down. Kallus is sitting in one of those impossibly small and uncomfortable med deck chairs near his bed. Kallus is also holding his hand, with his head pillowed on Zeb’s thigh as he sleeps. Even sleeping there’s a worried furrow to his brow. Zeb squeezes his hand, then lets himself reach over with his free hand to run his fingers through Kallus’ hair. Kallus stirs. His eyes open.
“Hey Kal,” Zeb greets.
“I thought you were going to die,” Kallus admits.
“I thought I was going to die,” Zeb agrees.
Kallus winces. “I thought you were going to die saving my life when I hadn’t told you...when….”
He closes his eyes and squeezes Zeb’s hand.
“We need to talk, don’t we Kal?”
“I...” Kallus starts. Zeb lets himself flex his fingers, strands of Kallus’ hair sliding through them. Kallus swallows. “I guess we do.”
“You two look cozy,” Omani greets as she walks over to them carrying a stool. She sets it down near the head of Zeb’s bed. She presses a few buttons above his head and the lights dim. She hands him a remote as Kallus sits up slowly. Omani shows him how to use the remote to raise or lower the head of his bed and manipulate the lights. She takes his vital signs, smiles at both of them, and then walks away.
“What happened?” Zeb asks.
“Ar-Six has a larger weapons upgrade then what she has registered?” Kallus says. “It turns out Omani is a former Jedi? Sana and Meorti are deadly with blasters?”
“You were looking pretty deadly yourself,” Zeb tells him.
“I was terrified. I thought you’d died in front of me.” Kallus' words are soft, his eyes downcast. He’s staring at his hands. He flexes his fingers.
“I’m here. It takes more than a few stun blasts to kill me,” Zeb tries to reassure.
Kallus looks up at him slowly. He looks stricken.
Zeb swallows. “I think I liked it better when you were using me as a pillow.”
Kallus laughs sadly, glancing away from him.
“Hey, no,” Zeb protests, reaching for him.
Kallus shifts his chair closer and takes his hand.
“I’m here. I’m alive. Everyone else made it out alive and we got some supplies,” Zeb reminds.
“Mostly medical supplies, one container of ration bars,” Kallus informs him.
“Everyone made it out?”
“Yes, Garazeb, everyone made it out alive.”
“Can’t ask for better than that,” Zeb encourages. “I like the way my name sounds in your mouth.”
Kallus’ eyes widen. He wets his lips.
“I think the stun bolts are finally wearing off. Let’s see if I can get discharged and we can go talk,” Zeb suggests.
“Talk,” Kallus repeats.
“I think it’s clear now that we both want the same thing,” Zeb says. “I think it’ll help us both to make sure.”
“You’re not rejecting me,” Kallus sounds stunned.
“No, I’m not. I keep getting distracted thinking about sitting in your lap,” Zeb admits.
Kallus grins slowly, eyes shining brightly. “I’ll go find a doctor.”
As Kallus stands to leave Zeb squeezes his hands, then gives him a slight tug. Smiling Kallus leans in. “I’m supposed to tell you Ar-Six got footage she’s willing to share of me being ridiculous trying to protect you.”
“I’m going to need to see that footage,” Zeb rumbles as he lets his free hand come up to cup Kallus’ cheek.
“I’m going to tell AP-5 this is all his fault and that he set us up,” Kallus warns as his lips start to brush Zeb’s.
“He’ll gloat,” Zeb laughs. Maybe AP-5 deserves a little gloating, but only a little Zeb, decides as they finally kiss. Kallus’ lips are warm and firm against his. It’s just a brush at first, exploratory, then firm. They shift from light kisses to several slow and deep kisses that quickly make Zeb grateful that when he gets discharged they can go back to Kallus’s room, somehow Kallus managed to get assigned a private room. Zeb rubs his fingers over Kallus’ cheek as they kiss, grateful that he’s alive to feel this.