Ties That Bind

Stormtroopers march in single file down the street, helmets pointed directly forward and pointedly ignoring the gasps, hurried movements to pull children to safety, and outright glares that some level in their direction.

One figure, a human male, steps quickly back into a shadowed doorway, using one hand to tug his hood further over his face to conceal his features as the other hand shifts to more securely hold the bundle in his arms.

Once, he would have been inspired, even proud of the display. Now, he curses their efficiency.

His name is Kallus. Once he was an officer of the ISB; more recently, a ranking member of the Rebel Alliance.

Today, he is a fugitive.

The bo-rifle seems strangely foreign in his hands, despite the fact he once owned and wielded one himself. It is not his, and he'll never know the original owner. It was handed to him by a faceless member of the Rebel Alliance with the remark that they'd heard he knew how to use it - had almost begged him to use it, as more traditional weapons were running low. Aware of tradition and background and remembering an old friend, he had agreed.

That was two days before the rescue mission had gone wrong, the Empire too quick for any attempt to be successful. Or so his team believes. They are unaware of the real reason for his sudden request for leave.

He glances toward the makeshift basket beside him, and at the sleeping human child inside. She sighs, baby face crinkling slightly, before curling up more tightly in slumber.

Kallus stares out the cockpit window at the death trap in front of them, and for a moment he frowns. If he were alone, the collapsed star cluster would be a challenge. Try or fail, it would be only his life at risk.

If he were alone, he wouldn't be trying this in the first place.

The bo-rifle is reassembled in several deft twists, revealing its ancient form, and Kallus takes a deep breath before activating it and ramming it into the console.

The ship moves forward.

Lira San is calm and peaceful, at odds with the fiery maelstrom they have just survived. The bolts of electricity had sent the child into terrified screams, going on seemingly forever as Kallus held the bo-rifle firm. Now she whimpers, interspaced with the occasional sob, and Kallus weakly rights himself and reaches out to comfort her.

"Shh," he whispers, gently removing her from her bed, and the whimpers turn to sniffles as she grabs onto his shirt. He wryly considers her for a moment - good thing he picked her up with his left arm, as she shows no sign of letting go - before reaching out and activating the comm. controls.

"Specter Four, this is Specter Seven. Do you read me?"

There is a high chance no one is getting his message. He doesn't know the level of technology on this planet, or even if there is one - though the technology in the bo-rifle now laying on the floor, forgotten, gives him hope. He doesn't know how Zeb fared upon his return, whether he's still alive...

Intent on derailing that train of thought, he leans toward the console again. "Specter Four, come in!"

No response, and Kallus tiredly lets his head rest on the console. It's too much - no response after all this time, all the risks spent coming here...

"...ter Seven, come in! Specter Seven!"

Kallus awakens with a jolt, immediately steadying the sleeping child in his arms before touching the comm. activation switch. "Specter Seven to Specter Four. Specter Four, is that you?"

A hearty laugh almost breaks the comm. "Yeah, it's me! Never thought I'd hear your voice again." Zeb's tone gains a note of curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

"It's... complicated," Kallus says, shifting in his seat. "Is there a place I could land safely? I need to speak with you in person." 'Safe' being a relative term, he reflects - he doesn't know how welcome he is on a Lasat planet after his actions on Lasan, or how well known those events are here.

"Yeah," comes the reply after a brief pause, "I'll send you coordinates and meet you there."

"What is that?" Predictably, Zeb's first words are blunt and to the point, the Lasat staring at the bundle in Kallus's arms.

"A child," Kallus replies dryly, "surely you haven't forgotten the concept."

Zeb rolls his eyes. "Of course I know it's a baby, I have a few of my own now. I just - well, I haven't seen a human one in a long time. Why did you bring it here?"

"Because," Kallus replies, "it was the safest place I could think of to hide a Force-sensitive."

Zeb stares at him for a moment, then reaches out a huge purple hand to pull back the blanket a bit, staring at the baby almost reverently. "You're sure?" he asks quietly.

Kallus nods. "She has a habit of levitating objects she wants to put in her mouth," he replies with amused irony.

Neither of them remark on their former crewmates, Specters One and Six. It remains unsaid that if possible, Kallus would have gone to them first.

Zeb sighs and shifts on his feet, gesturing for Kallus to follow as he starts across the small patch of grassland. In the distance Kallus can see mountains, glowing rosy pink as the sun sets.

It is a strange sensation not having immediate care of the child who has been his focus all this time, but Zeb's wife - a slight, gentle Lasat, and Kallus realizes he has never met a female Lasat in person before - had firmly insisted she knew how to care for a child, and Kallus had reluctantly accepted. Now he and Zeb sit in matching large wooden chairs outside the home, watching Zeb's oldest two children play with a large ball and occasionally dart curious glances at the strange creature who has come to visit their father.

The last hour has been spent in idle chatter - how the other had been, Hera's new position, the state of Mandalor, life on Lira San. It has been an idle but thoroughly enjoyable evening, and Kallus regrets that it will soon have to end.

"So. No others then." Zeb's voice is calm, but sad. Kallus can see places in his purple beard where the fur has darkened, though whether it is due to simple maturity or an overly-long life he can't say, not knowing the species' lifespan.

Kallus heaves a sigh. "No others. There are rumors now and then, but..." He shakes his head. There had been persistent rumors about a member of Rogue Squadron, a Skywalker, but he had disappeared during the scramble off Hoth. Even if he hadn't, Kallus isn't sure how he would have contacted him; his own unit is often detached from the Alliance mainstream. Besides which the boy was barely the age Ezra would be, and had Vader personally hunting him and him alone...

He hopes Skywalker was at least afforded a quick death.

"I'd - hoped that you'd consider taking her in," he continues. "I realize that might be a burden, and if so-"

Zeb growls a familiar curse, and Kallus can't help but smirk. Zeb never had enlightened him of its meaning. "Nonsense. We've always got room for one more. Or two," he added uncertainly.

Kallus laughs, its tone warm and relieved. "I'm afraid just one," he replies warmly, smiling to show he appreciates the offer. "As far as the Rebels are concerned I'm on leave. I have a squad to get back to."

"Chava might be able to teach her some," Zeb informs him, then adds with a smirk, "but it'll be different than the Jedi."

"I know. But it's better than what she'd have otherwise." Kallus hesitates. "If I do find another Jedi -"

Zeb snickers. "Then he and Chava can argue over whose apprentice she is, and she can be a Jedi if she wants."

Kallus hasn't ever met Chava, but what he knows of her character prompts another chuckle at the thought. "Thank you, Zeb."

"Any time, Kallus."

And for a moment, watching the sun sink lower into the sky, the two veterans are able to forget there ever was a war.

They're alone now, standing in the dark with only the running lights of Kallus's shuttle to illuminate them. The Rebel Captain and the Lasat Honor Guard stand awkwardly, not sure how to say farewell. Both suspect that this may be the last time.

"Sure you don't want to stay?" Zeb asks gruffly.

He wants to. A place near a former crewmate, family of a sort, peace…

But he has responsibilities to his squad, to the Rebellion.

"I'm sure," Kallus replies with a crooked smile of his own. Then, the expression turning to a full smile, he adds, "I'll take my chances with the Empire."

Zeb claps him on the shoulder. The reference isn't lost on him; the first time Kallus had said that, he'd turned down a chance to defect for a chance to learn more. Shortly after that, he'd become a Rebel informant, soon joining up for good. This may be a farewell, but that doesn't mean it's his final answer.

"Right, well." Zeb runs one of his massive hands over his own fuzzy head. "Safe journey, I guess."

Kallus nods and turns to leave.

"Kallus!"

He turns.

"May the Force be with you."

Kallus's eyes widen in surprise, then he nods. "May the Force be with you," he repeats with sincerity.

He disappears into the ship, and moments later the shuttle lifts off, soon disappearing from sight.

Kallus can't deny the pang of sadness in his heart at the thought of leaving Lira San, and the child he's spent this time protecting. Despite himself, he's become attached to the little Force-sensitive. This is why he never bothered giving her a new name – he couldn't afford to become attached…

A sigh escapes him, and he stares a moment at the bright planet below him before hitting sublight engines. There's no choice; he has his responsibilities.

He grabs the bo-rifle, and jams it into the console, bracing himself for the jump to lightspeed.

Nothing happens. A few sparks escape the rifle, but it's as if the computer hasn't even registered.

A second try. Nothing.

Moments later Kallus is staring at the hyperdrive in disbelief. Or at least where the hyperdrive should be – where instead, there's a jumble of half-melted wires and snapped cables.

How did we ever get through in the first place? he wonders, and feels a shudder as he considers their fate had the hyperdrive given out one lightyear earlier. More annoying is the fact that he had checked all systems before attempting this, but the fact remains that he is not a pilot by occupation – capable, but not particularly skilled, certainly nowhere near Hera's level. Zeb would never let me hear the end of this.

An hour later, after trying to find any way he can repurpose materials to make the hyperdrive capable again, he finally realizes the truth. There is no way he is going to return to the fleet.

Zeb is never going to let him hear the end of this, for the simple fact that Kallus will never be able to leave.

Shaking his head in bemusement, and certain that the intangible Force that Kanan and Ezra had once spoken of so often is solely responsible for this, he heads back toward Lira San.

The baby is cooing as Zeb lightly bounces her in his hands; apparently she has a fondness for either fur in general or the color purple, given how often she seems to want to sample his fur. Probably a good thing, since she'll be growing up on a planet surrounded by it.

His wife Kreszenz looks over his shoulder at the child, smiling at the foreign features and innocent curiosity. She is a native of Lira San; before Kallus's visit, she had never seen a being not her own species. "She's beautiful," Senz says, and Zeb shrugs uncomfortably. He's more concerned with holding her correctly; human kids are far more fragile than Lasat kids are. "What's her name?"

Zeb stills, suddenly realizing that Kallus had never mentioned it. For a person who worked in the ISB once, that seems like a strange oversight.

Unless he didn't want to know it, because he was already attached.

Zeb feels his heart soften even further toward the child as he realizes that whether or not Kallus realizes it, he's already adopted her. "Don't know," Zeb growls finally, returning to bouncing the infant. "Her last name will be Kallus though, one way or the other."

Senz sighs, turning to round up the kids from the yard in preparation for bed. "It's a shame your bond-brother couldn't have stayed," she remarks over her shoulder. "She'll be the only human on Lira San."

Zeb sits quietly after his wife has left, just holding the baby and thinking. It's true; it's unlikely another human has ever found his or her way to Lira San. In that way the girl's Force-sensitivity will be a help, since Jedi abilities make Lasat jumps look almost childishly easy. She'll fit in better.

He suddenly has the powerful urge to chase Kallus down and demand what he thought he was doing, leaving a human baby on a planet filled solely with Lasats, but Zeb already knows his reasoning. Once, he had been orphaned, choosing the Rebellion over his Imperial 'family' and forming another with the Ghost crew – on Lira San, the term for this is 'bond-brother', or family by choice. Kallus is giving the girl a chance to form a similar family without having to fight a war in the process.

A faint beep sounds, and Zeb almost tunes it out before he realizes it's the sound of the communicator he's had since he returned here for good. The resulting scramble results in a laugh from the baby – apparently she finds fast, bouncy, semi-controlled movements enjoyable – as Zeb snatches for the comm. "Who's there?" he growls.

"Hello again, though that's quite the greeting," comes the wry voice of a person Zeb could have sworn had already left the system.

Zeb blinks. "Kallus?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I'll need to take you up on your offer," replies the calm, resigned voice. "It seems your 'maze' killed my hyperdrive. Quite permanently."

Zeb finds himself caught between conflicting emotions. First is surprise, closely followed by alarm at could-have-beens, which is followed by amusement.

Amusement wins out.

Zeb's roar of laughter is loud enough that he's certain Kallus can hear it with or without the comm.