Yooooooo! So I know its been awhile and I really have no excuse...apart from crazy testing...and just general lazyness….so sorry about that.
Anywho, I was watching The Honorable Ones, when I got this plot idea. I really like how kallus's character was reimagined in that episode, and I really wanted to channel that in this story. However in acctually writing it I figured out that his character is reeeeally hard to write (when hes not being all one dimensional evil henchman) and this is really just me playing with giving Kallus a empathetic internal monologue, as well as an altered sense of right and wrong. Anyway, its just something different I wanted to try, so enjoy!
Kallus POV
The blast seemed to happen in slow motion. I felt my body being pushed against the far wall, but not by the force of the explosion it's as if an invisible hand pushed me out of the way of the fire and falling debris.
In that moment I made eye contact with the boy. His blue eyes reflecting the sparks that threatened the air, and I realized what he was doing. He was using the force to save my life. I couldn't understand why, and I don't think I quite ever will. The boy's body was thrown sideways against the steel wall of the communications room and it ricocheted onto the floor with a thump. Before I could step out to reach him the ceiling above us begin to crumble. Sheets of twisted metal, electric wiring, and bits of glass rained on his limp form from above.
In a moment it was all over, and the cloud of dust filled the air. Without thinking, I found myself digging through the rubble to reach the boy. Glimpsing the obnoxious orange fabric, I removed the chunks of ceiling from on top of him. Once his body was free from the wreckage, it became clear that he was unconscious. Rolling him onto his back it became clear that the child undoubtedly had several broken ribs, and possibly a broken collarbone. Most concerning, however, was the massive head wound he had sustained. It stretched about four inches across the left side of his forehead, reaching down to his temple. It was an impressive injury, and I prodded it carefully with my fingers. There was no fracture, but it still bled heavily, and there was no way I could know the extent of any internal damage he'd received without more advanced medical equipment.
There were sounds outside the door. For the moment, the barricade of debris would keep them out, but definitely not for long. Quickly as I could, I dragged the boy behind a large slab of metal in the farthest area of the room. I could hear them opening the door, and beginning to break through. Frantically, I got some of the blood that was pooled on the floor from where the rebel child formerly lay, and smeared it across various places on my face and uniform. Then covering up the remains of the red blotch on the floor, I scattered a few smaller bundles of cables. Moving across the room u stuck my leg in a gap between two large chunks of metal, just as the troopers broke through. I silently prayed that the boy would remain silent long enough for this act to play out.
"Sir, there has been another rebel attack. Are you injured?" The trooper spoke in an urgent tone.
"I'm fine just get me out of here" i spat at the faceless minions that loomed overhead. Two of them pulled on the metal "entrapping" my leg and soon I was back on my feet shouting orders at the troopers in front of me. "The rebel child was here before the blast. He escaped through the air ducts" I was met with silence and stillness. Leave it to these stormtroopers to act as incompetent as a newborn loth-cat. A part of me urgently screamed that the child hidden from view would be in need of immediate medical attention, something he wasn't going to get that until I yelled the final order. "Well, FIND HIM"
Almost immediately they sprang into action. Obedience radiating from each of their movements, as they left again for the corridor. Then I was alone once again. Well... almost alone.
The young apprentice was still unconscious when I returned to crouching at his side. The amount of blood that leaked from his head was growing at an alarming rate. I looked around for anything to staunch the bleeding. There were no medical kits in this sector of the ship, so I settled for a long flat cable from the ceiling, and a square of fabric that I pulled from the lining of my uniform. Pressing the white cloth to the bloody gash it the boys head, I wrapped it tightly with the cable, tucking the end into itself securely. It was enough to staunch the bleeding, but still, it was only temporary. I needed to get this boy back to his ship, with his crew. Where he belonged.
I noticed a flashing from his comlink still secured to his wrist. The rebels had undoubtably heard the blast and would most likely be checking to see if everyone was still breathing. It was a fairly secure form of long short distance communication, so i decided to use it to my, or rather the boys, advantage by contact his rebel friends for aid.
"This is Agent Kallus. I have the Bridger boy." I paused for a moment thinking how ridiculous this must sound. "If you want him back, get to the secondary starboard hangar, and I swear no harm will come to him or his crew." I waited, crouched low, still holding the boys unconscious wrist in my hand. There was no reply. I couldn't even be sure the message got through. It was beyond dangerous to be moving about the ship with breathing proof of rebel sympathy, but all the same, I lifted the boy into my arms, and headed for the secondary hangar.
Throughout the journey through the ship, I became increasingly more worried. About being seen. The damage to my ship. About the fact that the child in my arms had yet to stir. This last one weighed heavily on me, though I couldn't think of any rational reason why, my insides knotted at the way his limbs hung lifelessly, swaying with each movement like grass in the wind.
Every logical part of me screamed to turn him in to the empire. To lock him in a cell and await praise from my superiors. But still, my legs kept moving, cautiously peering around corners and down hallways for any threat that may bring harm to the boy I held.
Perhaps it had something to do with the boy himself. He had saved my life, yes, a debt that must remain forever unpaid. But what twisted inside of me was not in sympathy for the self-sacrificing characteristics he had, but rather for the things he lacked. After all, he was still only a boy. Fifteen years of age, yet still marred by this cruelness of galaxy. He wore scars across his face, scars that I was jointly responsible for, but his face was still youthful, yet to see the age of 20. He was also painfully thin. So much so that one might be able to lift him single handedly, with ease. Part of me knew that this was the fault of the empire. For such children to live as they do for the sake of order. I realized that this situation was not ideal. Not something I could live with. What was becoming of me?
Reaching the hangar bay I was not surprised to see it mostly empty. The only thing occupying the steely black floor was a singular rebel ship. The one they called Ghost. Nor was I surprised to see only the Jedi at the top of the ramp leading to the ship, blaster drawn. Other members of this crew were undoubtably lurking somewhere in hiding, most likely placed to gain a tactical advantage by surrounding me. On this occasion, however, I was unfazed by the potental threat, for I was...blast I couldn't believe it...i was on their side.
For a moment I considered dropping the boy, and pulling a blaster to his head, as every painstaking hour of training had taught me to do. Still, when I looked down at his relaxed face, I was reminded that he was no more than a child. A child caught in a war where he didn't belong. Battle was no place for someone of his age, and in all honesty, it burned me that his so-called Master had put someone so young in a position of danger. Of potential harm. Yet all these built up emotions faded away when I saw the look on the mans face. Worry, mixed with horror. Confusion mixed with relief.
I heard two sets of boots paired with blasters approach behind me. One of them spoke:
"What are you doing" a girls voice. The Madalorian that spoke through a helmet, contempt boiling in her voice.
"This child. He was injured." I waited for a reply, but none came. "He is a member of your crew, yes?"
"I think what she means is...why." the Jedi atop the ramp spoke "why are you helping us?"
I let out a frustrated sigh, these people were taking too long. "he saved my life," the rebels seemed surprised at this. I subconsciously noticed their slight change on posture as they comprehended my words. "lets just say i'm returning the favor"
The man looked almost longingly at the boy, as if he wanted nothing more than to gather Ezra into his arms and shield him from all the horrors in the galaxy. Instead I watched closely as the man shared a glance with the two 'specters' behind me, signaling them in an unreadable code. Almost instantly they reacted.
Once more the Jedi spoke "Specter four, specter five." both seemed to understand this order completely, and the girl came into view on one side, a blaster held high, aimed at my head.
On my other side I recognized the Lassat, who after gathering his companion into his own bulky arms looked at me with an almost thankful, knowing look. "Thank you" it was so soft I barely herd it, but I could sense the remaining honor I had begin to rebuild itself, as I watched the three rebels climb back inside their ship, close the ramp, and disappear into the stars.
Okay for those of you waiting for an update on Trouble Finds Me, I PROMISE I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN. I will get it up to you eventually, I promise
Oh and I don't own Star Wars Rebels….though im pretty sure you already knew that.
I have the honor to be your obedient servant, L&E Doodle