This story follows after my previous story 'Fulcrum's Zero Hour.' Haven't read it? Don't feel like reading it? WHAT?! Just kidding. Here's all you need to know for the start of this story: this is set after the Zero Hour episodes; Kallus is part of the Ghost crew; Sabine, Ezra and Kanan have separated from the Ghost and are helping Clan Wren fight Clan Saxon on Mandalore.

So, I'm kind of writing this because I feel like the show might take a bit of a time jump from this season to the next, and there is so much to cover I don't think they'll have time to get to it all. BUT, having said that, all this might get wiped clean with first couple of episodes of the new season. I'm cool with that. Honestly, I just wanted to keep my daydreams going until the new season arrives. I hope you all enjoy!


It'd been four standard days since the Ghost had left Yavin IV, and the small crew had already accomplished so much.

Sitting in the cockpit, using a datapad to review their latest successful raid on an Imperial supply depot, Hera let out a soft sigh. Beside her, Chopper gave a quiet hum and continued to run a ship diagnostic.

Their main mission might've sounded simple, but Hera knew better.

Be seen.

It was a markedly important directive housed in two little words.

From experience, she knew survival often relied on stealth, on remaining concealed. This mission, by all accounts, was tempting the fates, and sooner or later, the Ghost's luck would run out. However, for as much as Hera wanted to give in, declare the mission too perilous, she couldn't argue with the results.

Every skirmish they engaged the Empire in resulted in Imperial ships and troopers being diverted to the Ghost's current locale and potentially away from other rebel activity–away from critical Rebellion supply lines, from discovering the base at Yavin IV and from Mandalore.

With any luck, they were giving Clan Wren the edge they needed for victory.

The lone ship certainly wasn't having any difficulty attracting attention either. While the Ghost would've been a fine enough trophy, Kallus seemed to be the most enticing bait of all.

Word of the ex-agent's defection had clearly spread throughout the Empire. Already other Imperial defectors were stepping forward, asking to join the rebels. From reports, Hera learned that processing the newcomers was tedious and challenging, as the rebels were wary, but the wealth of skill and knowledge each true recruit brought had already begun to strengthen the Rebellion.

So, it was no surprise that the Empire was clamoring for Kallus' demise. His continued sightings would only fuel the quiet murmurs of discontent within the Imperial ranks.

The difficultly was in trying to discreetly attract the Empire's attention without drawing suspicion, so Kallus' appearances couldn't be overly overt. Fortunately, the ex-agent, with his many talents, was good at accidentally being discovered by a Stormtrooper as the Ghost attacked its targets. Incidentally, with a Twi'lek, a clone, a Lasat and an Imperial defector for a crew, it would have been hard to keep their presence anywhere a secret for long.

In a further attempt to have their sightings remain inconspicuous, the Ghost's raids and attacks were to appear haphazard and desperate–which meant allowing themselves to get into some difficult situations before fleeing, but, truthfully, their planning had been meticulous. Kallus had worked tirelessly on helping select the targets, trying to ensure the ship didn't tackle any location that would be too heavily defended.

A sudden incoming message distracted Hera from her wandering thoughts. She opened it, read, and felt a new burden of worry and anxiety settle upon her.

"Chop," she said, setting the datapad aside, "finish the diagnostic and then take us into the next jump. We'll head to the planet Coonee to trade and refuel."

The droid gave a warbled, disheartened groan.

"I know," she replied softly, "I'd rather keep to the Outer Rim as well, but duty calls."

Chopper gave a grumbled answer.

She stood and gave the droid a gentle pat. "I agree, it is too dangerous, but that's never stopped us in the past, has it?" Without waiting for a reply, she exited the cockpit, leaving the droid to its work. She would have liked to have given Chopper more comfort and reassurance, but her own doubts stifled that.

What she needed at the moment was to find Kallus and get his opinion on this latest message she'd received. It was, after all, only fair to seek him out as the information was about him.

Finding Kallus on the small ship wouldn't be hard.

When there was any free time to be had, usually during their long hyper jumps, Hera knew there were two main places the man would be found.

One was in the common room with his datapad in hand. He seemed to gravitate to the space. Perhaps he took comfort in the presence of his new crew, or maybe he found it awkward remaining in the cabin he shared with the absent Jedi. He undoubtedly felt like a guest in the room instead of an occupant. Hopefully that would change once Kanan returned to the Ghost.

On these occasions, Zeb and Rex would usually be chatting or playing Dejarik in the crew's shared space. The clone and Lasat had tried repeatedly to get Kal to join in on a game, but he would always decline, stating he'd too many reports to review. Hera noted how the invitation to play, while refused, still seemed to evoke an honest happiness and gratitude in Kallus.

With the mask of a hardened scowl that he wore as an Imperial gone, Kallus' expressions, while still subtle, became unexpectedly clear for Hera to read. It felt odd to find that kind of vulnerability in the ex-agent.

His smile came easily. It was a light sometimes unsure thing, but it granted him a sense of serenity where once an imposing threat had resided. The stiff Imperial posture would be harder for the man to lose, but, while he kept his shoulders squared and back straight, he didn't hold his head as high or chest so pretentiously inflated.

There certainly seemed to be a newfound humbleness to Kallus.

Hera had praised a few of Kal's early reports, but the kind words only seemed to trouble him. He'd mumbled something about it being his duty and abruptly asked to be excused. It wasn't until after he was gone, until she reviewed the reports again, that she realized one string of data had been about the prisoners from Tarkintown.

Many were interrogated. Those who survived were to be transported from a facility near Lothal to a more secure and established detention center where their questioning would continue. They were not labeled and held as rebel sympathizers–they were being held as rebels.

Kallus' notes on the prison transport were extensive, though most were speculation and educated guesses. He'd obviously spent a lot of time researching the matter, and when Hera checked the timestamps for his report notes, she found he'd stayed up all night trying and failing to pinpoint the time and final destination of that particular transport.

As her memories lingered on Kallus' attempts to right the wrongs done to Tarkintown, Hera entered the common room, but she found it empty, quiet.

Turning around, she headed to the second location that Kallus favored–the cargo hold.

She quickened her pace as she heard voices, controlled yet vibrant, echoing off the ship's walls, mixing with the sound of a scuffle–metal clanging against metal, punctuated with growls and grunts of exertion. Rex's voice rang out above all else, but Hera couldn't tell what the clone was saying. Whatever it was, it sounded frantic, urgent.