Part Seven

Two weeks later Syndulla returned from Lothal, a flight recorder in her arms and a serious look on her face. Kallus and Cassian were part of the debriefing - Kallus because he already had tertiary knowledge of the TIE Defender and Cassian for his dirth of contacts.

Mothma was beside herself to realize how fast the ship was, how far it could travel and the output readings of its shields as well as its offensive capabilities: proton torpedoes, six laser cannons. Dodonna was grim faced and Organna worried his hands systems away in hologram form. "If these ships manage to be mass produced we will have no hope of fighting."

"That was why I came back, Senator," Syndulla said. "To ask you to okay an assault on Lothal, to destroy the production factories and maybe free that planet from the Empire's control."

"What choice do we have?" Dodonna said, running a hand through his thick beard. "We don't have the frigates for a siege, it will have to be a small, calculated strike team. Teams, actually, one on the ground has to handle ground support while the strike team figures out how to get past that blockade. How many star destroyers are there?"

"With all due respect, General, the number's don't matter," Syndulla said, lekku swaying with her head. "If you give me pilots, I can get them through that blockade. Ezra and Kanan will handle the ground forces with Azadi's rebels and we can coordinate as necessary."

"You are granted permission," Mothma said. "We'll post the mission and see how many fighters we can assemble."

In less than forty-eight hours twenty-four people volunteered - enough for a squad of X-wings to protect a squad of Y-wing bombers. Small - for a planetary blockade it was utterly tiny, but that would make them hard to target if they could burst passed the star destroyers before the TIE fighters were launched. Kallus liaised with Syndulla, letting her know protocols and offering suggestions on what Thrawn might do once he saw the attack. Plans were made, submitted, and approved, and Kallus worked the comm station personally as Syndulla tried to contact the crew of the Ghost.

It took the better part of a day to punch through and connect with the Jedi - Lady Wren answered first and Syndulla visibly sighed in relief.

"Happy to hear from you guys," she said, smiling. "And good timing, rebel command has authorized the attack. Fighters are being fueled and bombers loaded."

Bridger: "The attack? It's happening?"

"We're launching our assault on the next rotation," Syndulla explained. "I told Mon Mothma you'll coordinate the ground assault."

"You can count on us!"

"Good, we don't have a lot of time. This is what I need you to do…"

Everyone waited for word. They tracked the fighters up through hyperspace, knew they exited hyperspace, and just… waited. They had thirty-six hours on the outside to fulfill the mission. Thirty-six hours to account for contingencies, unexpected snags, Thrawn. Thirty-six hours to report the mission a success.

Forty-eight hours came and went.

Seventy-two hours came and went.

Eighty hours later Captain Hera Syndulla arrived.

"The mission was a success," she said. Gone was the calm, collected confidence; gone was the level, self-assured voice. "The fuel depot was… was destroyed and the resulting… explosion… did significant damage to the factories and the surrounding areas. Power has been cut off and production is now at a standstill. It will be another five years before the factories are rebuilt and production can begin again."

"Wonderful news!" Dodonna said, slapping the lip of the command table.

Cassian and Kallus shared a look, knowing there was significantly more to the story given Syndulla's shaken up frame.

Mothma knew it, too. She reached out, touched Syndulla's elbow. "What else?" she asked gently.

Syndulla blinked, face tired and drawn, pale to the point of yellow. "We… there were casualties. Over half the squad was shot down and we lost all the X- and Y-wings. We also lost…" Her entire face changed, screwing up into an intense look of pain, and Kallus realized it a split second before she actually said it. "We lost Kanan Jarrus."

Silence swept over command.

Oh Hera…

Captain Rex rapidly had to sit down, as did others, and Kallus could only stare, blinking rapidly as a hundred different memories of the Jedi flit across his mind - the Kessel Spice Mines, smuggler dens, the Grand Inquisitor's interrogation, the report of the escape, seeing his blindness for the first time, watching him walk without sight, the color of his lightsaber, that one overwhelming act of kindness on the Ghost after Atollon… His stomach twisted and he quickly closed his mouth against his bodily reaction.

Mothma closed her eyes while Dodonna lowered his head.

And then, out of the shadows, Senator Organna – not the hologram, the actual Senator, came out and gave Hera a soft, comforting embrace. Hera almost leaned into it, Kallus could see her eyes, but she held herself straight and did not react.

"A pyre," Dodonna said. "We need to make a pyre. I remember Jedi cremated themselves."

Hera lost what little color she had, swayed on her feet but somehow managed to stay standing. Organna kept a hand at her back.

"We can create a suitable send off later," Mothma said. "The factories have been destroyed, we need to get word out to our surrounding forces, a bit of good news as they arrive here for our first Alliance meeting."

"Ma'am," General Draven started to say, but the redhead stopped him with a look.

"With all due respect," Hera said, voice low, almost monotone, exhausted. "Our mission on Lothal isn't over yet. The Empire still occupies the system."

"I understand, General Syndulla," Mothma said, "But the immediate threat has been removed, and as you well know, there are several other immediate threats that require our attention."

The council moved almost immediately to other topics, but Kallus was watching Hera, saw he eyes at the dismissal, saw her slowly turn out of Organna's supporting hand and leave the command center.

He followed immediately, Cassian as his heels.

"Hera!" he called, but she didn't answer, moved with wobbly steps to the lift. Kallus almost didn't make it, had to cram his way through the doors to get in. Cassian squeezed in behind him. "Hera," he said again, "I'm so sorry."

She looked up at him, and her composed face was broken almost beyond repair, she opened her mouth to say something but instead bent over in half and started retching. Stars above! Kallus grabbed the Twi'lek, groping for her lekku to keep them behind her head and clean. Her entire body shuddered in his arms, and he looked up to see Cassian on his comm, demanding a medical droid to their lift. There was a blur of bodies and orders, someone brought in an old, man-powered stretcher, and Kallus helped carry the woman who had risked her ship and her crew to rescue him to the medical level.

An hour later he was allowed back into the medical wing, Hera was sitting up in her cot and putting on a boot.

"Is that wise?" he asked, his rich baritone carrying across the space.

"I'm fine," Hera said, but her face was still a haggard yellow. "I still have a lot to do."

Kallus was standing in front of her now, silently blocking her way. "Hera," he said, daring to use her first name, "You are allowed to take time to grieve."

Her eyes were fierce, her mouth turned down into an intense frown. "The mission isn't finished," she said.

"What?"

"The mission isn't finished. The factories are destroyed but the Empire is still on the planet. Ezra is still fighting and I'm going to help him. The Alliance isn't going to help, this isn't an Alliance mission: this is personal. For Ezra. For Kanan. Now get out of my way."

Kallus stared at her, seeing her fire and determination, seeing her weakness and loss.

Honestly, the decision was made back when he made his first transmission.

"Let me help you," he said softly, reaching out an touching an elbow.

"We'll both help you," said a new voice, and the pair turned to see Rex, out of his clone armor.

Hera stared, Kallus willing her to see his own conviction, and she smiled.

The only person he told was Cassian, who actually nodded and gripped his shoulder, wishing him good luck. "I'm on my way, too," he said. "I have a contact who is going to meet me on the Ring of Kafrene. From one Fulcrum to another: try not to die."

"From one Fulcrum to another, don't be afraid to let someone in."

Kallus, former communications officer, sent out a series of coded transmissions on several trajectories. Hera watched, hand touching her shoulder as Rex primed and readied the Ghost. They waited one rotation, and then flew to Seelo. Kallus saw the old AT-AT he and the Empire had been forced to abandon had replaced the even older AT-TE the clones had been using to traverse the planet. Inside was a motley collection of beings – he turned his nose to see Hondo Onaka and raised an eyebrow to see a mercenary human with purple eyes until he saw Wren's singular work on a shoulder pad.

Three clones, a mercenary, a pirate and a pig. It wasn't much.

They took off anyway.

Hera was too sick to fly. Kanan's quarters were sacrosanct, no one slept there; but Kallus at night could hear crying when he walked by Hera's quarters, and everyone could hear her sickness in the morning. Rex and Kallus flew the Ghost, and instead of a privilege it was terrible duty. Hera should have been flying this ship, and it was a testament to everyone that she couldn't. Rex tried to talk to her, but she rebuffed all attempts, said only that their primary objective was liberating Lothal. She alternated from holding her rebellious stomach to putting a hand on her shoulder, a forlorn look of expecting a hand that would never be there again.

Two hours before they exited hyperspace Hera stepped into the cockpit, color slightly better, and Rex wordlessly relinquished the helm.

"I want a status update on all systems," she ordered, "Prepare to flush the ion filters right before we exit so we can power down quickly and I want all nonessential functions off. We should be in communication range – Kanan I want you to contact Ezra and-"

She stopped dead, eyes wide as she turned to Kallus in the copilot seat. There were a number of ways to react to the slip, but Kallus chose to be nonchalant. "Sending a signal now," he replied, avoiding eye contact before risking a peripheral glance.

Hera shook herself out of it and turned to the console. "Rex, I want you to monitor for a reply, Kallus, you're in charge of secondary function shut down."

Poor woman, Kallus couldn't imagine what she was going through.

The tension started to build – not the usual pre-op butterflies or the slight flutter of doing something new. There was a weight to the anxiety, the side glances to Hera and the dawning reality of what they were about to do. Kallus curled his toes in his boot, an old trick he learned from Colonel Yularen of all people, to hide nervous energy. He took a deep breath, getting ready for the assault.

Then, Rex, on the comm from deep in the ship: "I just received a transmission from Chopper. They're under attack."

Hera was all business. "Coming up on Lothal. Get ready to power down." Kallus had his hands on the console, and the second Hera exited hyperspace he shut down all systems while Hera powered down engines. Kallus checked the readouts, monitored transmissions... Good.

"I don't think we were detected," he said.

Hera turned behind her. "Hondo, time to join the Rebellion."

"Very good," the Weequay replied. "Move us to these coordinates."

Hera's look said everything. "That's a hyperspace lane, Hondo."

"Technically it is just outside a hyperspace lane," Hondo corrected. "We shall wait there for a cargo ship to arrive."

… What?

… What?

"Are you mad?" Kallus demanded. "It'll crash into us!"

The Weequay's answer grin was superciliously smug. "This is the risk you take when you are a pirate. You do want to get through the blockade, yes? You want to help Ezra, yes? Then you must listen to Hondo. I have done this many times and have only been struck..." Hondo paused to count, Kallus saw how many fingers were being used, heard the pause draw out... was he serious? "I have done this many times!" Onaka insisted, giving up counting as he moved back to the cabins.

"We're going to die," he whispered.

"Don't worry," Hera said, "He might have crashed but I won't. You're in charge of aft and stern thrusters. We need to be precise. You can do that, right?"

"Yes," Kallus answered. "I most certainly don't want to crash."

"Rex, any more word from Chopper?"

"No."

"Then get up here. We're gonna need all hands on this."

Kallus relinquished his seat for the old clone, Hera divvying up who was in charge of what and waiting for transmissions from Chopper to update. All they knew was that Ezra's group was under attack – that could mean anything from scouting party ground assault to the entire planetary defense sector. Kallus closed his eyes, tried to picture what Pryce would do without Thrawn there. She would overcompensate to be sure, but she underestimated rebels consistently.

Rex was just as impatient as he: "Listen, we can't just sit here. Who knows how long Ezra can hold out down there?"

"Patience, patience, my friends," the old Weequay said. "The Empire runs shipments all the time." As if on cue, one of Hera's monitor's beeped. "Here comes one now."

The Ghost shuddered as a cargo vessel exited hyperspace only two thousand miles from their position. "You see?" Onaka said with a superior air. "What did I tell you?"

Everyone moved to position – Kallus taking the copilot chair and whistling through the thruster controls as he perceived Rex slide down the ladder to the nose gun and out to the cargo bay. Kallus didn't dare look out the viewport, kept his eyes on the screens and the sensors so he didn't lose his mind over what they were doing. Onaka was talking but Kallus tuned him out, nudging the steering yoke and bursting thrusters at second and half-second intervals.

"Rex, stand by on the magnetic clamp."

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Now!"

There was a soft thud of magnetizing to the cargo bins, and Hera quickly powered up the comms.

"Cargo freighter EF-75, stand by for code authentication."

This was it... now or never... were they detected...?

"Freighter EF-75, you are cleared to proceed."

Kallus let go of the breath he had been holding, ignoring Onaka as the Weequay complimented himself and strode out the cabin. Eugh.

"As soon as we enter the atmosphere, I'll give Ezra the signal," Hera said, and they watched through the view portal, Rex standing by to turn off the mag-clamps and get the Ghost flying. Once they launched, Hera plotted a course to the Rebel camp. "All hands," she said to an open channel. "We're flying into a firefight so we need all hands. Rex, Kallus, Wolfe, Gregor, you have the most ground experience, we'll clear a path and you get to Ezra, he'll give you orders from there. Ketsu, I need you in the co-pilot seat and watching the fuel levels for the stabilizers – we used a lot getting onto that freighter. Hondo, you and Melch take the guns – I assume you both know how to shoot?"

"You doubt me after getting you here?"

"I'll take that is a yes – get in position people! We're almost there!"

Kallus took one last look at the readouts: three patrol transports. That gave him an idea of numbers, and he saw the camp was on a cliff-side cave system – serviceable. He could work with that, and Bridger, Ezra, obviously could as a native to the planet. He pulled out his blaster and moved to the cargo bay. Rex and the clones were already there, adjusting their grips on their blasters and assault rifles.

"Into the fire again, boys!" Rex said.

"It'll be great to fight with a Jedi again!" Gregor said, high pitched voice cracking as he jumped on the balls of his feet.

The battle engaged, Kallus taking a slow deep breath as he heard the guns firing. Comm channels were open, the Ugnaught was squealing over the sound of an explosion and there were tremors on the ship as the deflector shields did their work. Then the bay door opened and it was a firefight. Kallus and the clones moved in, eyes taking in the sight – the rebels were pinned against a stack of crates, the stormtroopers had their backs to the caves and were trying to push the rebels off the cliffs. Well, that wouldn't do. Kallus saw Zeb on one side of crates so Kallus moved to the other side, knowing Zeb would hold one flank and settling for holding the other. Gregor took position beside him and it was a flurry of fire, holding off the stormtroopers as Hera drew off the patrol transports.

"Chopper!" Kallus recognized Wren's voice. "Jam their transmissions!"

The audio feedback scrambled all the troopers, clutching their helmets as the comms short circuited. Kallus took out two troopers with the momentary breather, but the next volley of fire sent him ducking behind his crate.

"We're still outnumbered!"

"Not for long! Fall back to the cave!"

Zeb gave cover fire and Kallus kept his blaster hot himself, running and shooting as their measly dozen fighters darted to the cave Ezra pointed to. Ezra covered their rear, green lightsaber ignited and blocking fire and then there was darkness, the total shadows of the cave overwhelming Kallus' contracted pupils. He stumbled twice, a large meaty hand – Zeb – catching him and helping him along.

"Is there an exit here?" he asked. "Is that why we're here?"

"No exit," Zeb replied, "Leastwise none I can explain. Ezra's thinking something else."

"What?"

"Sh!" Ezra hissed, lightsaber off and moving quickly through the darkness. "Everybody, quiet. Breath. Just breathe..."

Kallus could see nothing, did not understand what was going on. Zeb patted his shoulder, and everyone huddled along the walls. Silence fell quickly, but did not last long as Kallus' eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and his ears slowly became hypersensitive to noise. He thought he heard padding, the clicks of claws on stone. What was happening? Heavy panting... an animal... no several animals. What...? What...?

The stormtroopers filed in, lead by a silhouette Kallus didn't immediately recognize, though it moved like a leader. Kallus could just make out Ezra, and the creature asked, "Where is your army now?"

And Ezra ignited his lightsaber.

And there were wolves.

Three enormous, white, wolves.

Kallus had been on Lothal long enough to have heard the legend of Loth-Wolves, ancient guardians of the planet revered as spirit guides, long thought extinct.

The wolves ran forward, ramming through the stormtroopers and outside. There were screams, blaster fire, the liquid sounds of biting, and Kallus turned to Zeb. "What in the Seven Correllian Hells is going on?"

And damn him, Zeb smiled. "You should know by now that when things get weird it's a good sign."

"Those are Loth-Wolves!"

"Yeah. Wanna ride one later?"

"What?!"

More Loth-Wolves appeared from nowhere, dark grey, happy to join the carnage outside, and Ezra ran after them. "Come on! We gotta help them!"

Kallus shook his head, wondering how in space he was going to accept this, but ran out anyway. He saw the Ghost fly by with the two patrol transports on its tail – Hera was clearly buying time before taking the ships down, and the wolves were wreaking havoc on the Imperial forces. Kallus took aim, covering the animals and hoped they understood he was no longer an Imperial.

Kallus moved in, sticking close to Zeb and defending the mouth of the cave in case more wolves came. It was unnecessary, the fight was over in less than a minute.

"I'd drop your weapons if I were you," Zeb offered the stormtroopers, patently smug.

Everyone did.

Ezra moved in, a Loth-Wolf behind him carrying a struggling Governor Pryce.

"No. Don't let it eat me! Please!"

The woman was near hysterical, panting and grunting, quivering as the Loth-Wolf dropped her to the ground. This woman had been arrogant, imperious, abrupt, snide, and petty; to see her cowering now, after everything she had done, after everything Kallus had witnessed her do, filled him with an absurd amount of unearned pride. He looked at Zeb and the two shared a grin, both knowing that comeuppance was something to be savored.

"Why don't you do the honors," Ezra said, offering a pair of binders to Azadi, "governor-to-governor?"

"Ezra, it would be my pleasure."

It took the rest of the day to regroup. Several of the Lothal fighters were injured and needed medical treatment, the Ghost had to land with a stray patrol transport. More crates for supplies, this time ammo after the firefight to reload and furiously clean weapons, as well as a curious moment when Ezra stood with one of the white Loth-Wolves, reaching out and touching its nose, a surreal weight of... something... in the air.

The sun started to set, and the reality of what they had accomplished started to set in.

"You did it," Hera said, color in her face. "Somehow, against all the odds, you actually did it."

Ezra smiled, a soft shy thing. "I couldn't have without you," he said, eyes sweeping over the dozen odd fighters assembled. "All of you."

"So true, my young friend," Onaka said. Kallus immediately tuned him out, eyes darting over to the captured Pryce, wondering what was next.

"I wish it was over, but it's not." Kallus looked back to Ezra. "Not until we chase the Empire from Lothal and show the galaxy that for all their power, they can be defeated."

The boy... was no longer a boy now. Kallus saw for the first time how tall he was, how deep his voice had become. There was a clarity in his eyes and a weight to his words. This was not the wary little loth-rat he had captured and used as bait, this was not the skinny little pickpocket thief who made life difficult for him. This was a man, a weapon cured in battle and loss, who held maturity to his chest and vision to his eyes. He was a leader. At a scant nineteen.

Ezra looked to Kallus. "What is the quickest and easiest way to get all the stormtroopers inside the Dome?"

Kallus blinked, processing the question and mentally running through all the scenarios. He made his suggestions, and the plan started to come together. They would need uniforms – there were plenty of stormtrooper sets to use but the key would be Kallus' – not a grey ISB uniform, he would be recognized, but black. They could get into the dome with Pryce but Kallus had to sell the gambit. Everything hinged on getting to the command center, and it all had to happen before Thrawn returned from Coruscant.

That night Hera cried again, and Ezra wordlessly went into her cabin to comfort her. Zeb and Sabine guarded their privacy, and Kallus happily stayed up in the turret.

He wondered how Cassian was doing on the Ring of Kafrene. In the last few months he was off planet more than he was on base, on some mission for Draven that Kallus wasn't allowed to know about. He knew – suspected – tangentially that it had to do with Saw Garrera, that Cassian had taken special interest in the extremist when he had learned about what happened on Onderon. They could have used a man like him on this mission, and Cassian could have used a mission like this – just covert enough to think he could lend a hand, just inspired enough that Cassian could look up from the darkness and see a real result of his struggle. Maybe that would help his friend. Chase away the flashbacks, the "dreams."

He sighed, looking up at the stars, and hoped Kay-Tu would be enough until he got back to base.

Assuming Thrawn didn't show up.

Assuming he could sell the protocol.

Assuming they could get on the dome...

Kallus shook his head and climbed down out of the turret. Doubt was the last thing he needed. The honor guard was gone, Kallus saw the door to Kanan's quarters were open, saw Ezra meditating on the ottoman, and quickly moved to the cockpit to give the boy, man, commander, space.

The clones were there, sharing old war stories and patting each other on the backs. Kallus climbed down to the nose gun to see Sabine and Ketsu talking quietly. Right, he moved down the hall to the cargo bay, saw Onaka and the Ugnaught Melch, arguing over something. Stars above, he climbed the ladder back to the living quarters, into the common room. Zeb was stretched out on an ancient wooden chair, feet crossed at the ankles as he listened to some kind of music on the holo.

"Missed this station," Zeb said. "Always had the best music – local stations always do. It's not a Lasat step-concert, but it's good."

Kallus listened to the music, distorted slightly from traveling through weather and mountains. He wondered if the distortion was a signal.

"This was how I disguised my transmissions," he said, fingering the holotable. Zeb shifted his massive frame, gave room to Kallus to sit next to him.

"You think this will work?" Zeb asked.

"The concept is sound," Kallus said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "It depends on if I can sell the protocol."

"Heh, you could sell anything."

"I could," Kallus agreed, "But I worked on Lothal for years. They might remember my voice."

Zeb shrugged as if it was nothing. "Pull rank," he said. "ISB is covert isn't it? Don't exactly scream transparent, do they? Make'm think your a superior officer or something."

Superior... Yularen. Azadi. His voice was deep enough, the right pitch... could he do a Core accent? He would have to ask...

"Relax, Kallus," Zeb said, large hand grabbing a shoulder and forcing him to lean back, into Zeb's side. "Enjoy the quiet while it lasts."

The hand stayed on his shoulder, effectively trapping Kallus in a heavily scented cocoon of warmth. A Lasat's body temperature was half a degree warmer than humans, just enough to be noticed, and Kallus flushed to the intimacy of the proximity. He wondered if Zeb knew of his preferences for lovers, but didn't ask for fear of ruining the moment. His muscles loosened, he started to relax.

… "Do you have regrets?" he asked softly.

"Can't be on this ship if you don't have regrets," Zeb answered, squeezing Kallus' shoulder.

"I wonder if the past can be undone... If you can correct the mistakes you've made and ever achieve compensation for the things you've done." Space, why was he saying this? Out loud? To Zeb?

"You can't change the past," Zeb said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Kallus' side. "Old Chava would say it all happened for a reason, but I never liked all that Ashla preaching, even when it was from Kanan." Kallus looked up so see ears droop, remembering a fallen friend. "But I do think I got something out of what happened. I would never have met the crew if I was still on Lasan, and I would never have met you."

Kallus looked out across the common room, not really seeing it. Instead he saw Lasan, the campaign, evisceration of an entire planet's population, mass genocide. He saw Lyste, Kanan on the torture table, and so many other things he had done over the years. "Will it be enough?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"It'll only be enough when you feel it's enough."

"... and if it's never enough?"

"Then you have us to lean on."

Us.

There it was again, the acceptance, the warmth, the camaraderie. Kallus leaned into Zeb, taking comfort in what the Lasat offered, and closed his eyes and let himself think... of when things were better, maybe not great but better than this... except it not was better. There was still danger, still the Empire, still fights to engage in, but here, in this moment, was better than anything Kallus had ever experienced. He held it for as long as he dared.

Kallus found Azadi first thing in the morning and asked about accents and impressions, explained why he needed the Lothal man's help, and Azadi readily agreed. In less than twenty minutes practice Azadi could pass muster, and they moved to collect the governor.

Pryce had all night to think, but she was still spiteful as Kallus pulled her to her feet. They moved up the hill and all she could do was glare. "You disgust me, traitor."

"The day I betrayed your Empire, Governor," Kallus answered, "was the day I finally stopped betraying myself."

"You've given up years of service," Pryce said, "a promising career, prestige, for what? To join a band of failures who don't stand a chance."

"I think we do," Ezra said, cutting off one of Kallus' many retorts. "Especially with your help."

Pryce was indignant. "I will never help you."

"Uh," Ezra said, tone light and confident, "yes, you will. It will be your last act as Governor of Lothal. You're finally gonna do the right thing and help free your home world."

"I will do no such thing."

"Okay," Ezra said casually. "If that's your choice."

He whistled, and a Loth-Wolf appeared from kriffing nowhere to growl at the Governor. Kallus and Azadi backed up quickly, letting Ezra teach his lesson.

Pryce capitulated quickly after that.

It was a flurry of activity, Wren and Ezra and Kallus changing, getting binders to set the stage, loading Pryce onto one of the patrol transports. Liftoff went smoothly and Kallus closed his eyes and focused on the mission. Ezra and Wren were talking quietly amongst themselves, Kallus catching a word or two – Bridger was worried about something – but locked himself in his mind, visualizing the plan, remembering every corner of the Dome, every lift, every route, running through a checklist of things he needed to do until Hera signaled their arrival.

Pryce was agog at their destination, but Kallus made sure she transmitted the correct landing codes. Kallus put on his helmet and pulled out his blaster, Pryce was the wild card in this and Kallus was determined to have this go smoothly. He held it to her back and made sure she took the lead as they exited the transport. This was stage one, getting inside. "Nice and easy, Governor," he said softly, pressing the blaster to her back.

It was smooth as silk. Ezra interacted with the troopers in disguise as Zeb discreetly pulled off his binders. He gave a low growl as he launched himself over the soldiers, making a run for the blast door. Blaster fire erupted everywhere and it was a mad dash for cover. Kallus kept his fist locked on Pryce as he followed Ezra to cover, lightsaber deflecting bolts with the grace of his lost master. Pryce tried to get free but he broke no refusal, held her down until the last of the stormtroopers were down.

"Go, go, go!" Hera shouted, and everyone ran into the dome.

Zeb, Onaka, and Melch held back, and Azadi regrouped with Kallus to keep the Governor under wraps. They made it to the command center, Kallus and Azadi staying back and waiting for the signal. In less than thirty seconds there was a flurry of blaster fire, the scent of smoke and carbon scoring, but then silence. Azadi and Kallus shared a nod, and the former ISB agent powered into the command center, moving from one console to the next to transmit the all clear and intruders dead codes to the responding sectors. He powered up communications one by one, making it look like a power surge or a broken relay, sent a small signal for comm stations to report in and ask for errors, all standard procedure.

They would need a good five minutes for all comm stations to report before they could begin the drill. The wait was short but breathtaking as all stations checked in and gave all clear codes. He left Wren to receive the messages and moved to another communication console, priming the PA system and getting ready. He took a breath.

"Ezra," Wren said, "we're ready."

"Kallus, you're up."

This was it. "Attention, all personnel," he said, hearing his voice echo across the Dome, across the city. "Protocol Thirteen is now in effect. Report to your action stations immediately. Repeat. Protocol Thirteen is in effect."

"Hangar Two-Seven to command. Please confirm lockdown order."

"Command center to all units. The order is confirmed."

"This is highly irregular. Please repeat sector authorization." Kallus turned and looked to Azadi, giving a faint nod.

"This is ISB Colonel Yularen. I am executing override code Base Gamma Zero."

"Imperial security? I was unaware ISB was involved."

Kallus held his breath. The override code was valid but now Azadi had to make the sell.

"That is the point of this exercise," the Lothal man said easily.

"Then... this is a drill?"

And, in a fit of brilliance, Azadi turned it around. "Is it? And do you always question the orders of a superior officer?"

"... Proceeding with Protocol Thirteen immediately."

Kallus watched the troops as they reported in. Some had to fly in from quite a distance, it took a while for all the TIE and patrol transports to log in, and more than a few people crowded around his station to watch the numbers swell before Hera shooed them back to their posts. It took the better part of twenty minutes – substandard if this were a real assessment, but it worked. He turned to Ezra. "All units have returned to their duty stations, and the dome is now secure."

"Hera, start the launch cycle. Sabine, set the self-destruct."

Kallus focused on his console, maintaining the protocol signal and giving small, secondary assignments to troopers who reported in: lock down all fighters and turn in all weaponry for inspection. Stand at ready to submit for debriefing. He heard Onaka talking but ignored him in favor of keeping the troopers busy. Hera explained their exit strategy: fly the Dome up and away from the city for self-destruct, get on the Ghost and fly away before final code entry.

Then a shadow fell over their viewport, and Kallus looked up to see a star destroyer.

"You're too late," Pryce said, voice smug.

Kallus recognized the decorative painting on the underside of the ship. His entire body stiffened. "It's Thrawn," he said.

Hera was quick to act. "Shutting down the launch cycle."

"No! We can't just sit here."

Hera turned to the mercenary. "Thrawn is holding position directly overhead. If we launch the dome, we'll crash into his ship and destroy the entire city."

"Karabast," Zeb cursed, "We're trapped."

"Chopper, put me through." The C-1 droid obeyed Ezra's order and a hologram of the Chiss admiral appeared. Kallus felt sweat on his brow, knew from his time on Yavin that he was having a stress response as his eyes locked on Thrawn.

"Governor Pryce is our prisoner," Ezra said, "and we have complete control of the Imperial Dome, with every trooper, pilot, and officer trapped inside. You failed, Thrawn. Leave Lothal, and we might let your troops out before we blow the dome to pieces."

"Are you quite finished?" Thrawn asked. His measured tone and even words sent chills down Kallus' spine. "If you truly wish to save Lothal, Commander Bridger, the only term I'll accept is your immediate and unconditional surrender."

"Why would I surrender when I hold your entire army prisoner?" Ezra demanded.

"No, you've simply moved my assets to a safe position so that I can bombard the civilians of your home without incurring Imperial casualties."

…

Oh, stars.

"Rex, raise the planetary shields!"

"The generators just went offline!"

"Someone's engaged the manual override at the power terminals!"

"Your shield generator is under my control," Thrawn calmly explained. "Just so that you understand that my intentions are genuine, I shall demonstrate my power. Open fire."

Twenty seconds was all it took.

Twenty seconds of firing, watching an entire burrow of the capitol city be leveled by aerial bombardment, smoke and fireballs and crumbling buildings and loss of life incalculable how could it have gone so terribly-

"Enough! I surrender!" Ezra was desperate, his voice cracked in horror.

The shelling stopped.

"I await your arrival. And make no mistake, come alone. If you attempt any heroics, I will resume the bombardment and destroy your city and then your friends."

The transmission ended, and for a split second nobody moved.

Except Ezra. He turned immediately, handing his lightsaber over to the C-1 droid Chopper, and Kallus saw Hera's lekku shudder, a sign of something he didn't understand. "Ezra... I understand that you think you need to do this, but-"

"This is what I was meant to do," the young man said. Kallus moved down the stairs, uncertain what he was going to do but knowing he needed to do... something.

"There's another way. There's always another way," Hera said, and after so many days of listening to her in her cabin, hearing the sickness and the pain, Kallus could hear the desperation, could see a woman clinging to the only family she had left, clinging to the living legacy of Kanan Jarrus. "I won't let you go."

Kallus held his breath, Zeb right next to him.

"... All right," Ezra said, slowly, resigned, "if this isn't the way, then what is?"

"Let's see what we have to work with," Hera said.

Everyone moved to the command table, calling up a holo of their situation. Zeb wanted to blow the ship out of the sky, but that would leave the star destroyer to crash into the city. The only option was to get the shields up and running, and in order to do that they needed to ascertain how to get there. Wren suggested using the primary schematic and they moved over there, Kallus' eyes scanning and absorbing everything he could. The executive turbo lifts were the best way to avoid the stormtroopers – whoever had the shield generator did not have the entire base, if they could work quickly then there would be minimal fighting. With the shields up Thrawn couldn't attack the city, nor could he attack the dome as it launched. Escape was still a question, but at least there was a plan to prevent Bridger from sacrificing himself.

"So, we got a plan to get the shield up," Hera concluded. "The trick is to pull it off before Thrawn loses patience. We need to stall him somehow. Ezra?"

A lone patrol transport passed the viewport. What-!

"We have to stop him," Rex said.

"Ezra," Hera shouted into her comm. "Don't do this!"

And, of all people, Wren - no, Sabine - touched Hera's shoulder.

"Hera," she said gently, "we have to trust him. The best way we can help is to get that shield up, so when Ezra makes his move, we're ready. We have to assume the generator room will be well-guarded, so we'll need two teams to hit it from different sides if we're gonna capture both power terminals. That is, if you agree, Hera."

Kallus watched her face, saw the raw pain, saw the slow smile. "It's a good plan," she said, voice shaky. "The best chance we've got."

Stormtroopers were of course trying to enter through the blast door, Pryce might have said something but it was irrelevant. Onaka once again showed he was more than just a sell-out idiot, and Kallus wondered if he would actually have to listen to the Weequay the next time he talked. The Ugnaught Melch provided the distraction and Zeb cleared the door.

"Rex, Hondo, and Ketsu," Sabine ordered, "you take the north tower. Zeb, Kallus, Gregor, you take the south. I'll talk you through it from here."

Zeb rolled his shoulders. "Let's go, Rebels," he said.

Kallus would never get tired of being called a Rebel. He followed the Lasat through the now empty hallways.

Getting to the generators was an unqualified mess. As Zeb aptly grunted: "You know that plan we had to trap all these stormtroopers in the dome? It just occurred to me, we're trapped with all these stormtroopers in this dome!"

It was wave after wave of stormtroopers, blasting, detonators, sealed blast doors until they arrived at the south end of the terminal. Kallus used half his ammunition just getting there, and when he saw the firefight he actually worried if he would run out. Technicians on their level were firing down, pinning Team A before he, Zeb, and Gregor started to draw fire. Other troopers with the creature from the caves were here as well – once again they were outnumbered and Kallus wished just once he had the firepower like the old days. Now he had to be creative.

"Rex, we need those towers back online now!"

"I can't get to the control panel!"

"You've got to extend the bridges!"

Kallus knew there was more talking but he was too busy aiming. Team A had the better position to turn on the generators, but his team had the height and absolutely had to keep the Imperials pinned. He had enough cover to pick them off save the fact that these troopers had cover just as good as theirs and more kept coming. He saw the bridge extend to the control panel but it was a long way with no cover – demonstrated almost immediately by the Ugnaught who was shot on his way across, sending Onaka into a tizzy and giving the A team one less member to fire – useless Weequay!

"Even with that bridge extended," Gregor observed, "there's just too many of them! We're gonna have to do something drastic."

"... All right, I'll do it!"

Kallus whirled around. What...? "Zeb, don't!"

But the Lasat took a mighty leap, form perfect as he gained impressive height, leaping down one level and tucking into a tight roll before exiting to another jump – this one more predatory as he dove for the cave creature and into the generator towers. That fool Lasat!

Beside him Gregor gasped. "He's crazy!"

"Well, it was your idea!" Kallus retorted, unable to allow himself more reaction as he ran and fired on the still shocked technicians. They fell quickly, not as trained as stormtroopers, and once they were down he moved to a console to start anything to reverse the kriffing karabast poodoo-storm that this fight had turned into. He started inputting override codes, the relative quiet settling in before he heard one more blaster fire. He turned to see the crazy Gregor struggling with one of the technicians before throwing him over the edge.

Kallus leaned over to watch the fall, but there was no miracle landing. He turned and saw the blaster wound, saw Gregor stagger and Kallus was suddenly helping him to the ground, cushioning his fall. The clone was indignant. "Get that shield up!" he ordered, shoving Kallus away.

He moved back to the console, overriding the Protocol Thirteen orders and setting up the ignition command. All he needed was word below.

"Now!" shouted the mercenary.

"Zeb?" Kallus called down. He was not going to fry that damned Lasat before he killed him for his recklessness.

"Don't wait on me!" his friend called up from below.

That was all he needed. Kallus turned on the shield and let the power towers light up, red electricity slowly jumping from one cone to the next. His eyes scanned furiously for Zeb, found him on the far side of ignition and watched the Lasat make another impressive leap, gripping a support column and climbing up with ease and oh, what a relief it was.

"Shields up!" Then, "It worked! The shield is holding! The city is safe."

Kallus sagged against the console, adrenaline spent, shocked that they had made it. The groan behind him reminded him that it wasn't truly over, yet, he turned and saw Gregor sagging as well, and the former ISB agent quickly helped lay him down before Rex arrived. Kallus backed away, giving them privacy for something as solemn as last words, and soon the two teams were making their way back to the command center.

When they came back, Hera and Sabine were gazing outside, utterly transfixed, and stars above, were those purrgil? What were they doing here?

"... They're about to jump into hyperspace!" Sabine was shouting.

"Ezra! Ezra, get out of there right now! That's an order!"

Kallus moved forward, trying to get a better look at the purrgil, and the utterly decimated star destroyer.

"... Hera, I have to see this through to the end."

Kallus stiffened, turned to see Hera staring at her comm. Sabine was equally horrified: "Ezra, please! Get out of there!"

"... I can't do that. It's up to all of you now. And remember, the Force will be with you, always."

And, just like that, the purrgil disappeared, jumped into hyperspace from the stratosphere of a planet.

…

…

Ezra… His voice was so calm. How could he have been so calm? How did he know the purrgil were coming? How... Ezra... why... how...

"Um, was that the plan? Because we're all clear up here. There are no Imperial ships left."

Sabine: "This is our chance! You heard Ezra! Let's finish this! Chopper, prime the thrusters for launch! We're gonna blow this place."

Everyone shook out of the marvel, somehow, and Kallus moved to the self destruct protocols, okaying every warning and final warning and rerouting the final command to Sabine's wrist comm. Troopers blasted through the door but the firefight was brief. Sabine broke through the viewport with Ezra's lightsaber and they climbed to the roof of the center, seeing the Ghost and scrambling aboard as Zeb and Rex lay down cover fire, Kallus taking charge of the bay door and shouting at them to get on board. They flew up and away from the dome, out of range of fire and pulled around, Kallus just entering the cockpit as Sabine held up her wrist comm.

"For Kanan and Ezra," she muttered, and ignited the dome.

There were concerns of course. Ezra had left one last heart-wrenching message that Kallus watched before realizing it was not his place to see. They considered how to defend the planet, saw the crowds, the cheers, the jubilation. They reintroduced Ryder Azadi to his people, gave them ideas on how to rebuild their broken government, but in the end, they were Rebels.

Sabine and Zeb volunteered to stay behind as guard, Onaka and his Ugnaught disappeared as soon as it was obvious he was not going to get paid, Rex escorted Wolfe back to Seelo, Ketsu Onyo moved on to the next mission.

And Hera, Chopper, and Kallus returned to Yavin.

"Attention. Attention. Would all planet-side Alliance Cabinet members report to the command center. Would all planet-side Alliance Cabinet members report to the command center."

Kallus ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. Senator Organa had called this meeting, and Kallus understood that also meant all Fulcrums. Compartmentalized as the Rebel spy network was, big meetings like this needed all hands on deck. He'd seen General Syndulla earlier, rubbing her abdomen after getting out of a meeting with someone, her maniacal C-1 droid wheeling over to her and saying something in binary. Their debriefings had happened separately, and he wanted to see how she was doing.

The crowds filed into the command center, the shift technicians quietly moving aside to make room. At the center was Senator Mothma, red hair a beacon in the sea of whites and browns and grays, the earth tones of the Rebellion versus the monochrome of the Empire, Kallus supposed. She was talking to another girl, brunette, a face Kallus didn't immediately recognize. A new recruit?

Off to the side was a certain reprogrammed security droid. Kallus moved closer.

"Kay-Tu," Kallus greeted.

K-2SO turned to see a fellow spy, hunching forward. "You are still alive," the KX droid said. "I told Cassian you would most likely die, I gave him the odds but he told me to shut up."

Kallus smiled. "I see you're still alive, too," he offered.

"That was almost a false statement," K-2SO replied, "The captain nearly had us killed. Again."

"And we are all thankful for your continued survival," Kallus answered lightly.

"I don't see why."

"Why, for your endearing wit, I'm sure," Kallus said. He found a spot, behind the planet leaders, in front of the technicians, behind K-2SO and nearly invisible. His eyes took in the crowd, and saw Cassian, the droid's partner, leaning against a display, face not closed off but dour. That was new. Kallus followed his gaze back to the central table of the command center, to Senator Mothma and the girl. Who was she? He asked K-2SO.

"Jyn Erso," the droid replied.

Kallus blinked. "Saw Garrera's ward?" She had fallen off the grid two years ago, hadn't she?

"She is a handful," Kay-Tu continued, "She was the one who nearly got us killed."

"... I thought Cassian did?"

"They both did. In equal portions."

Kallus let the statement settle between them, watching as the meeting was called to order and Senator Mothma began her debrief. Mild interest turned into intense fascination as the revelations began to unravel: Jyn Erso was the daughter of Galen Erso, held hostage by the Empire to build a terrible weapon, a Death Star. Construction had been going on for years, Jedha was annihilated as a test, the planet killer was nearly complete, etc. Kallus' mind reeled at what a radical game changer this was – far more dangerous than the Grand Admiral's TIE Defender project on Lothal. Was this why Thrawn had been called to Coruscant when the Lothal Rebels had planned their coup? No wonder Moff Tarkin had been throwing his weight around, he'd been backing Thrawn and now with the Grand Admiral gone the... the Death Star was the only game in town. The man had probably already taken over the station – Krennic by all reports didn't have much vision and ooooh, there were so many ways this could play out and all of it was bad.

One of the Cabinet members put it best:

"If the Empire has this kind of power what chance to we have?"

And, in retaliation,

"What chance do we have? The question is what choice?"

Kallus looked over to the tiny girl: brown hair, brown eyes – small proportions, round face, wide eyes... and a fire he had seen once before...

"Run? Hide? Plead for mercy? Scatter your forces? You give way to an enemy this evil with this much power and you condemn the galaxy to an eternity of submission. The time to fight is now. Every moment you waist is another step closer to the ashes of Jedha!"

"It won't be easy, there'll be... loss and sacrifice... but we can't back down just because we're afraid. That's when we need to stand the tallest."

The words were different, the time and place were different, the speaker was nothing like Ezra Bridger, but the feeling was still the same: someone standing up to the fear, trying to get the Alliance to see the same thing. Here was a boy raised on the streets, learning to love others and willing to sacrifice himself for his home. Here was a girl, wandering the galaxy for years, learning about her father and willing to fight to save him. Here was a boy who inspired the likes of pirates to mercenaries to rebels to liberate a planet. Here was a girl looking to inspire a rebellion to commit to an attack on Scarif.

Wide eyes. Both of them had wide, expressive eyes, filled with determination and passion, the spark of rebellion that would lead to fire across the galaxy. Ezra had died for his planet, the wound too raw to even comprehend - Kallus hadn't even had time to react, let alone mourn. He had died as Kanan had reportedly died, saving Lothal and everyone close to them. This girl, Jyn Erso, would willingly die the same way - honoring her father's memory and recovering the Death Star plans to find the weakness so meticulously built into the mobile space station.

Ezra did not abandon his homeworld, fought for it even when the Alliance could not.

Erso would be the same - she was going to get those plans alone if she had to.

Mothma would see it. Organa would see it, but the Alliance was still so fragile, still so small – even with Lothal free there was only so much that could be done with their numbers, and a kriffing planet killer... The memory of Lasan, the massacre… to be done at the push of a button... it touched a corner of Kallus' brain that made him shudder, and his eyes drifted over to Cassian, his mentor, remembering the closed off look of-

Oh.

Oh dear.

Kallus stood straight as he looked at Cassian, realized the man only had eyes for Erso, saw the working of the jaw and the pursed lips.

It had happened. He had done it.

When Kallus wasn't looking, when Cassian was away on a mission, he had found someone, he had found acceptance, understanding, warmth. He found a personification of the cause, found a way to make all of his dark deeds mean something, to make him mean something. Just has Kallus had... He had at last found solace...

Kallus quickly pulled out a datapad. Being in charge of personnel while he debriefed the Lothal venture and Senator Mothma decided where he would be best suited had made him the most knowledgeable man on the base of everyone there. He needed names, before the inevitable happened. Him, him, definitely him, possibly her...

Jyn Erso was cut of the same cloth as Ezra Bridger, and that meant, like him, she would go off and do something rash. Unlike Ezra, Erso didn't have a fallen Jedi to keep her nose out of trouble, she would need as much back up as she could get. Him, him, her, them... Yes, and him, too. All of Draven's pets, all the spies and assassins, the ones who needed this kind of mission the most. A mission the demanded hope…

"Rebellions are built on hope!"

The meeting adjourned in chaos, the Death Star was too big to absorb, too big to process, and only Cassian and Erso had had any fraction of time to do so. It would fall to them, and Kallus knew what Erso would do, and he knew what an inspired Cassian Andor was capable of. List complete, he messaged everyone on it and then started making his way through the crowds, following Kay-Tu as he acted as a natural parting of the sea of humanity.

"Captain," the droid said when he managed to catch up to Cassian. "I suspect you're about to do something stupid."

"Then don't think about it," Cassian said, voice tight.

"Cassian," Kallus said, drawing attention. His mentor stared at him, jaw working, waiting for a reprimand or a rebuttal; Kallus instead held out the 'pad. "It won't be so stupid if you have some back up."

Cassian blinked, hooded eyelids moving slowly, disbelievingly. His gaze flicked down to the list, looking through the names, and he looked up.

He was speechless.

Kallus could not find words himself. He pursed his lips, hands clasped behind his back and fingers knotting in and out of each other.

"From one Fulcrum to another," he said, "Follow your hope. Find your place. Accept the friendship."

And Cassian smiled.

End

Author's Notes: Ah, what to say. Most of this is the series finale of course, from Kallus' very objective focused point of view, and it's a little late in the game but it becomes patently obvious that certain things are outside his admittedly wide capacity to handle. Anything remotely Force-center being the top of that list. But, then, Ezra can bring it out of him :P

And while there wasn't really room for it we did sneak in a small ounce of KalluZeb - for the longest time we didn't ship it, thought it was just a bromance, but then the epilogue of the show happened and we both said, "Okay, we get it! Fine!"

And then there's Cassian. Dave Filoni in an interview... somewhere... said that New Hope happened right after the series finale, so that Palpatine didn't have time to go make Lothal pay. Because of that it makes sense that Cassisan goes off to start Rogue One and isn't there for the finale - although wouldn't it have been cool if he was? Having said that htough, all of Kallus' work has paid off - he's put in a lot of effort to show Cassian what healthy relationships are like and why they're important, and with all those thoughts in Cassian's head he can see what happens to Jyn and see... well, see himself, and see why Kallus did what he did. Kallus and Cassian my be too much alike for Cassian to let in, but Jyn is just different enough that he CAN.

And of course Kallus is going to everything he can to help Cassian be successful, not realizing that the success would come at a very high price.

And thus ends the fic. Hope everyone enjoyed!

p.s. keep an eye out for a fic that takes a throw away line from here and and turns it into its own thing...