(A/N) Hoookay, so sorry this one took a little longer. In fairness, though, this chapter's honestly been difficult to write. A lot of this is some pretty messed up stuff. If you're too bothered by the notion of sentient beings being treated like breeding stock, I certainly wouldn't fault you for skipping over some of the dicier parts. Consider yourself suitably warned. I don't know that I can say I hope you enjoy this, more that I hope I continue to tell a good story that holds your interest.
The Colder the Winter, the Warmer the Spring
Chapter 11: Storm Clouds May Gather and Stars May Collide
Thinking on it, Zeb found himself realizing he'd maybe gotten a little too used to letting Hera and Kanan do the talking.
Somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten his ability to command. After his failure on Lasan and his aimless drifting through the galaxy, he'd come to a point where he was merely existing. He fought for the cause, of course, unleashed his own raw strength in whatever direction it was aimed, but he'd forgotten how to shape that strength. Without perspective, he'd lost his own stake in the fight, lost everything but the drive to destroy as many Imperials as he could.
That stake had started to make itself known again with Lira San, and had really shaken itself awake when he'd realized what could be between him and Kallus. When Arkalia had come into their care, he'd truly been feeling like he had something worth fighting for again. Kal's new mission was the latest in that line of reawakenings. He was ready and willing to lay down his life to free even one more Lasat – to do what he hadn't been able to that day sixteen years ago. As such, he was not going to let anything stop him.
Not even the uncertain side eye Sato was currently giving him.
"I still don't like this, Captain Orrelios. Up until now, our raids have remained in the Outer Rim territories. Mid Rim at the worst. But to risk venturing to the Inner Rim? It is trouble we have not known. Even for the chance of liberating captives, this may not be worth the risk in the end."
"Not worth the risk for a functionally extinct species. Is that what you're sayin'?" Zeb couldn't quite help challenging.
"Not worth the risk for our entire cell is what I am saying," the commander said, meeting his gaze full on.
"We're not risking anyone but Spectre Cell," Kanan argued.
"Which is risk enough as it is," Sato pointed out. "We are not a large enough force to go bandying ourselves about without thought or cause. After all, Captain, what good will you be to your people if you are dead?"
"I was dead once," Zeb started in a low voice, feeling the thrum of it deep in his chest as he tried to explain himself to the human. "As good as dead, at least. I had nobody left who cared what happened to me. Far as I knew, I was the last living Lasat in the whole galaxy. So I made a damn fine prize for the slavers that got me."
"Zeb..." Hera's quiet voice came into the silence that followed that sentence when Zeb hadn't immediately been able to continue. Her tone said he didn't have to finish if he didn't want to, but he knew he would. He had to. He owed it to his people, to his fallen brothers of the Guard, to Kanan and Hera – to himself.
"That would'a been the end of me...dyin' in some circus or arena...or a mine...or worse. Except for two stupid do-gooders who couldn't leave well enough alone," he said, throwing small, grateful smiles to the two younger rebels who stood on either side of him. Though Kanan's expression was mostly concealed, his lips turned upward in an answering small smile, while Hera's smile was her usual warm, encouraging look. When he turned back to Sato, it was with a look that was less angry and more determined. "So yeah, this might be a bit on the fool side, but I've still gotta do it. It's not even about them bein' my people. It's because I've been there. I know exactly what this is like. If we don't do it, no one else will. It's just more and more people enslaved to the Empire, and that only makes our fight harder. I know nobody wants that. So let's just...do this," he ground out with a frustrated shrug. "Because we have to. Because it's right."
Sato surveyed him for a long moment, and in that time, Zeb had no idea if he'd swayed the human or not. But when the commander gave a sigh and allowed his shoulders to slump in acceptance, Zeb breathed his own sigh of relief.
"I really do not like it, but I suppose I don't have to like it for it to need doing. The plan is well-conceived. And you are certain there is a safe place to transport these refugees after the fact?"
"Positive," Zeb said. "Same place- same place Kali's goin'."
"Then I will sanction this mission, so long as you are all aware of the time constraints it may place for the attack on Lothal," he finished, looking around at all of them.
"Understood," Hera said.
"Of course," Kanan agreed.
Ezra was the longest in responding, but he ultimately nodded, offering Zeb a pained grin. "Like you said. If we don't do it, no one else will."
"Thanks, Ezra, for- understandin'," Zeb said to his bunkmate. "I owe you one."
"Pretty sure we decided we weren't keeping score anymore," the young Jedi said with a small laugh, coming to him to give him a teasing punch on the shoulder.
"Yeah, but some things you just owe," he told the kid with a returned ruffle of his short hair. It was a habit he couldn't quite kick, despite the many months that had elapsed since he'd taken up the hairstyle.
"I'll keep that in mind," Ezra ribbed right back.
"Careful, Zeb," Kanan warned with a small grin of his own. "You know what you're getting yourself into with that one?"
"I'll take my chances," Zeb returned, smiling at all of them again. He'd known they would all have his back. Now all that remained was to break into a secret Imperial facility and liberate a small army of young Lasat.
There was only a small chance of success, but really, when was there not? He couldn't save his people. Not really. That notion was a distant dream; but he could at least save someone.
XxX
"Zelina!" Wedge called out as he moved along the base's perimeter, searching for the young Mandalorian. Honestly, it was starting to seem to him that their youngest recruit had a bit of a passion for flirting with the dangers along the barrier. Still, if he couldn't find her-
"Wedge?" an oddly gentle voice sounded from directly overhead, startling him. When his gaze shot up to the cluster of boulders he'd been passing, it was to see Zelina's dark head poking over the top of them, no rhyme or reason to the haphazard collection of braids that festooned her head. When she saw him, she offered up a lopsided smile. "Sorry. Did I scare you?"
The pilot exhaled loudly, scrubbing a hand through his hair rather than admit to the charge of having been scared. "You need to keep your comlink on like a normal person. Tera was worried about you. Hera's also been looking for you."
"Oh," she started, reaching to her belt to check the blinking comlink. Then she sighed in a frustrated tone that was more in line with his impression of her thus far. "It is on. I guess I just- didn't notice."
"Come out here to meditate or something?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked up at her.
She shrugged, sitting back down on the boulder. "Something like that. It was a habit Trek picked up from his general and my dad and I started doing it, too. I never- apologized to you...did I," she started up again, using that same oddly gentle tone he wasn't completely used to from her.
"Don't worry about it," he said as he leaned against the boulder. "We all screw up sometimes."
"Still...screwing up in the field gets people killed. That's what Trek used to say. I want to do better."
"It's okay. You're still grieving. It's not your fault," he said, his mind vaguely skating along the surface of some of his own griefs before he could turn away from them. "I- probably overreacted a bit myself. I wasn't expecting to deal with anything out of the ordinary that day. I think I've been getting into too much of a routine since Sabine busted us out of Skystrike. You...get used to it, I guess. The Empire's psycho as all get out, but they do keep things orderly."
Zelina gave a small chuckle at that one. "Guess we'll have to get you running on scum and villainy time, then."
Wedge joined in with a laugh of his own. "If you're gonna do that for me, I can probably help you do better in a cockpit. I know I might've left a bad impression on you, but I'm actually a halfway decent pilot."
That one drew more of a wry laugh from the girl, the glint in her dark eyes letting him know that her next words weren't serious. "Sure, if reverting to Imperial tactics is what you call good piloting."
"You never know. Maybe I'd been trying to lull you into a false sense of superiority."
"I'll believe that when I see it," she said before straight up rolling off the boulder, coming to land in front of Wedge while he stared at her with wide eyes, more than a little impressed by the move. He didn't realize she'd asked him something until she started waving a hand in front of his face.
"I- sorry. What?"
"Wow, are you awake in there? I was asking what Hera wanted."
"Just to let you know the Manaan mission's a go. They're gonna be taking off in another hour here. You volunteered?"
"Uh-huh. Who knows what it is, but bounty hunting outfits always look a little more legit when they have at least one Mandalorian in them. Since Sabine is off leading our people out of darkness, that leaves me. I may not be the best Mandalorian, but I guess you make do," she said with another shrug.
"Best Mandalorian?" he repeated in confusion.
"Yeah, long story," she said, waving a hand dismissively.
"Zel! Hey, Zel! You out here?" Ezra's voice suddenly came from around the tumble of rock Wedge himself had come from not too long before. The Jedi student himself appeared not too long after. "Oh, hey guys."
"How'd you find her so quick?" Wedge asked, only a little insulted.
"Oh, y'know. Jedi," he answered with a shrugged grin, but when he opened his eyes and actually took a moment to glance between the two of them, his gaze became a little more questioning. Whatever that question might have been, though, Ezra seemed to answer it for himself when his puzzled expression shifted into a broad smile.
"No fair."
"Can't help you there, Wedge old pal. Did he tell you what's up?" he asked the younger girl.
"Yeah."
"Let's get going then. I'm not sure we're even gonna get the full hour on this one."
The hike back to the landing field was quick, made with light-hearted, joking banter among the three young rebels. By the time they arrived, Hobbie and the twins had already helped Zeb finish loading the Ghost. Hera offered the trio a stern smile when she came down the loading ramp.
"Ezra, Zelina, I hope you two are ready to go, because we launch-"
"Yesterday. Yeah, got it, Hera," Ezra finished.
"Sorry to spring this on you last minute," Hera continued, turning her attention to Wedge.
"Oh, no, I completely get it. You know I'm always down for busting people out of the Empire."
"Think you can keep the drills going like normal? We need to be in top form for Lothal, so I'm counting on you," she told him.
"We'll be ready," he promised her. "You all just be sure to come back alive. Sabine'll kill me if she comes back and finds you guys dead."
"Mm, there are probably worse ways to die," Zelina said with a snicker.
"Yeah, and Sabine Wren could probably come up with about seventy percent of 'em," Ezra put in.
"Hera Syndulla," a new but vaguely familiar voice suddenly cut into the conversation, "I know you weren't about to make a move against Zaniva BioTech without inviting me along."
The small group looked toward the base to see a young woman heading onto the landing field. Wedge had seen Jidu Ailytè only a handful of times before, and the most recent was before her last infiltration run. Her looks had changed considerably since then. She'd gotten thinner, for one. But despite the fact that she already wasn't very tall and there was physically less of her, it didn't make the rebel spy's presence any less commanding. Her long black hair had been shorn off, prominently displaying the Black Sun emblem now tattooed on the right side of her head. The last time he'd seen her, both her almond eyes had been the same deep brown, but now that only applied to the left eye. The right was the distinct swirl of violet and ruby that marked her as having at least some Allurian blood.
"Oh," he started in surprise as he took in the heterochromia. For a moment, she quirked a slanted smile in his direction.
"Something interesting, Wedge?" she asked him.
"Your eyes...that's what they really look like?"
"They're called lenses, Antilles," she said with a chuckle. "Two different colored eyes is a bit too distinct a feature for a spy."
"Perhaps I thought you'd like a bit of a breather," Hera reprimanded mildly. "You did just get in, and I know how hard the Saleucami run was on you. This isn't going to be easy."
"Nothing ever is," she returned, shaking her head. "But I want in on this one. Zaniva was mine. I would very much love to spit in their eye."
"Well, if a Mandalorian's legitimate, Black Sun's got to be even more so," Zelina pointed out, smiling at the other rebel. "Y'know, so much as bounty hunting actually is legit."
Jidu turned her attention to the young Mandalorian with a pleased smile. "I like this one, Hera. Who is she?"
"Zelina Arsane," the young medic introduced herself. "I've only been here a few weeks. You can call me Zel, though, if it's easier."
"Good to know you, Zel. Guess we'll find out if we can work together."
Hera rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "An extra pair of hands certainly can't hurt."
"Awesome. We getting this moveable feast underway then?"
"Haha, just waiting on you, Ji," Hobbie said with a laugh as he and the Syrens exited the Ghost. "Glad you're back."
"For now," the Jedhan said, offering Wedge's fellow pilot a light punch. "Guess we'll have to catch up next time I get back."
Wedge wasn't sure when it had happened, but Hobbie had somehow become fast friends with Jidu in their earliest weeks on Atollon. And while he still found the older woman a little intimidating, Hobbie had somehow risen to the rank of drinking buddy, almost without him noticing.
"And we have even more new faces," Jidu said when she noticed the twins. "Jidu Ailytè. Who are you?"
"Terachor Shylene," the elder twin introduced herself, holding still for a moment, waiting for her sister to continue.
The younger Syren remained silent, though, staring at Jidu. Wedge wasn't particularly adept at reading Syren expressions yet, despite the distinctly human element of their faces. If he had to guess, though, he might say that the way the tiny, delicate feathers that framed her face fluffed outward was...almost like a blush. And Jidu's answering look of interest seemed to confirm that for him.
"I'm- Tsirhara," she finally made herself answer. "Tsirhara Shylene. We have heard your name. It is a pleasure to meet you," she said, clearly regretting her own word choice, as her feathers fluffed out even further.
In response, Jidu reached out to take the Syren's hand, and with the look in her eyes, Wedge half-expected her to kiss that hand. But what she did instead was lower her forehead to rest against the back of the hand, bowing low before the Syren woman in what was likely a gesture from Hara's own people.
"The pleasure, Tsirhara, is mine."
"Thanks, Jidu," Wedge said as he rolled his eyes. "There'll be no flying with her now."
The young spy offered Hara a somewhat less chaste look as she pulled back from her. "Sorry, but I don't think I am sorry."
"Typical Ji," Hera sighed. "But you can flirt when we get back. We're on a schedule right now."
"I'll consider that a promise," Jidu said, not breaking eye contact with the Syren, simply shifting to move backwards onto the Ghost.
"You know, I don't think I've even seen Kanan Jarrus turn on the charm that quickly," Hera said with a small shake of her head.
"Wait. Kanan was a flirt?" Ezra asked her, expression at the tipping point between wanting to know more and the outright shock of realizing that your parents did, in fact, have sex.
"That...is definitely not a story for young ears," Hera reprimanded, shaking herself out of some kind of reverie. "So young ears should be getting aboard ship right about now. Go on. Scoot," she said to Ezra and Zelina, waving them toward the freighter. They both waved to the gaggle of pilots as they boarded.
"I'm not- totally sure what just happened," Wedge admitted.
"Trust me," Hera started with a shake of her head, "with enough time, you'll learn to just go with it."
"That's a relief," Tera said, nodding. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get a bucket of water to dump on my sister's head."
"Don't waste too much. Those H2O scrubbers are overworked as it is," was all the Twi'lek had to say before boarding her ship, leaving the two boys to glance in slight confusion between it and the Syren woman currently dragging her sister from the landing field.
XxX
The first thing he becomes aware of is that he can't move.
The taste of ash and blast residue is heavy on his tongue, tinged with the unsettling copper tang of blood. His first instinct is to call out, but he immediately resists. There might still be hostiles in the area. But- what about the others? Are they all right? What's happening?
His breath catches in his throat when he hears a scream echo through the trees, quickly dying away into a hideous gurgling sound. Hera! That was Hera!
He struggles to turn his head toward the sound, but he can barely even manage that. He thinks he knows what he will see, coming through the smoke and the fire, but he's wrong.
So horribly wrong.
The eyes are red, the figure blue, clothed in that eerily impeccable grand admiral's white.
The first figure the Chiss stops at is barely recognizable, face mangled and bathed in blood. It's more a mercy when the Chiss shoots him through the head.
Kanan.
The Chiss continues on, calmly and silently, to the next of the downed Spectres. Alex can see the blood-stained orange jacket that signifies it's Ezra. When he tries to move, to raise a hand to summon the Force, the grand admiral raises a single booted foot and slams it down on his chest, pinning him to the dirt.
A single shot finishes off the youngest member of Spectre Cell.
He wants to reach out, to help...something...anything! But it's more than being unable to move. It's almost as if he has no body to command – as if he's nothing more than a naked mind gazing on this moment, unable to alter its course in any way.
The Chiss continues his unperturbed trek through the flames toward his next victim. When he comes upon the next Spectre, she's too injured to try to escape. Sabine raises the only hand she has left, pleading.
But the Imperial is not moved. His expression is blank as he sends several rounds of superheated plasma through the girl's chest.
"Kallus?" Zeb's voice suddenly comes to him from he knows not where, shaken and whispering, but still alive.
Zeb? he thinks more than says, but is somehow heard.
"Alex...Kal," the Lasat starts in a tone that speaks of depthless grief, of an anguish that has worn his weary spirit down to the faintest of sparks. "You...you're dead...aren't you."
Yes, he returns, beginning to understand the why of it all. He can't move because there really is no body. He can't speak because there is no breath. He is dead. But really, that doesn't frighten him as much as it should. All he knows is sorrow – a horrible, aching sadness that he has to tell Zeb he will never see him again. I...I'm so sorry...my love...
"He killed you."
Yes.
"I have a shot, Alex," he growls, something in his voice going cold, dying even as he listens to him speak. "I'm takin' it."
Zeb...don't...ni ashkerra. Just go. Get out of here!
"No," he says, voice soft but more certain than he's ever heard it. "He killed you. I can't...just walk away."
Zeb...I am sorry...that I couldn't stop this...but getting yourself killed is not going to bring me back. Please don't do this!
"I love you," he whispers at the last.
Zeb, NO!
But there's nothing he can do to stop him stepping out from his cover and firing on the Chiss. He's badly injured, unlikely to have escaped, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch him go down.
The grand admiral takes a hit, but it's ultimately Zeb who ends up on his knees with a single plasma burn through his chest, trembling and struggling for breath as he defiantly looks his killer in the eye. The Chiss sneers as he takes aim at him.
"There was never any chance that you could have won. Not truly," the Chiss says in his eternally even voice.
"Just go to hell...monster," Zeb snarls.
Giving a final annoyed huff, Thrawn takes the last shot, but then he looks up, past Alex's dead lover, straight at him with those glowing red eyes, even though he knows he doesn't exist anymore.
"There is no future this way, Agent Kallus. Only death. Either your own...or theirs," the Chiss says with absolute certainty. "You cannot escape it. You will bring them despair. All you can do is destroy."
Kallus' tortured scream carried him into the waking world this time. He knew where he was, but he still couldn't help the several frantic minutes he took to rake his fingers over his own body, confirming its reality – that he was, in fact, not dead.
Once he'd managed to assuage the wild terror of the nightmare, he was left sitting on the small bunk breathing hard, trying to get his trembling under control.
They weren't all that different from his quarters aboard the Lawbringer, these quarters he'd been given for his stay in the Zaniva facility. The small refresher station opposite the bunk was nearly identical to the one he was used to. Faintly, he thought of applying the usual tactic of splashing some water on his face, but was soon dissuaded from the idea when he glanced out the viewport of his room. Instead of a field of stars and void, he was staring at a seeming endless depth of dark blue-green water. He was literally surrounded by water. The notion of splashing it against his face seemed almost silly.
Though the reason for it sickened him, a small part of him was relieved for the quality sound-proofing used in the facility's construction. A scream like that wouldn't have been contained by the walls of a Star Destroyer. He would've drawn attention.
But then, that was the reason for it, wasn't it, he thought bitterly. Were it not for the excellent sound-proofing, the scientists and other personnel would have to listen to the sound of screaming almost constantly.
He had spent the last few days touring the facility with Masaada, learning its ins and outs, getting the colonel up to speed on what it was the rebels were supposedly planning, and how it was he was planning to trap them. It was an intricately woven web, with trap and counter trap all planned out. It was a plot his younger self would have been extremely proud of. Now, though? Now, more and more, he just found himself wishing for it to all be over. He was more than just disgusted over what he'd seen done in this terrible place. He was heartsick – heartsick over what the Empire had done to the Lasat, over how they were justifying their crimes, here and throughout the galaxy, as a means of keeping order. How had he ever let himself be taken in by any of it?
How much longer could he keep this up?
As long as you have to, he scolded himself as he finally rose from the bunk to dress for the day. Giving in now would be weakness, and he was not allowed to be weak.
Not now.
The Spectres would be arriving any day now. Hopefully today or tomorrow. It was better he didn't have the exact date, since it would then appear more that he'd only been able to intercept partial intelligence. And much though he was looking forward to Zeb's arrival, to making an end to this abomination, he also wasn't looking forward to Zeb having to witness this. He knew how it would break his lover's heart. It broke his own heart a little more to strap his bo-rifle to his back. He could both see and feel how the older generation of prisoners looked on him with hate in their eyes. He knew what he must seem to them, and there was no way he could risk revealing the sigil Zeb had carved for him. There wasn't an inch of this place that wasn't under surveillance. Part of him would've preferred to forgo the weapon altogether, but it was part of the performance now – part of the identity he presented to his former colleagues.
One of the Butchers of Lasan.
It was why the nightmares were returning in such full force, he had little doubt. They'd eased their grip on his sleep in the time since Nar Shaddaa, but ever since he'd come to Manaan, they had been getting bad again. If he were honest, he would have to say he probably wasn't going to get any proper rest in this place. It certainly didn't help that he constantly had Kanan's warning to watch himself at the back of his mind. The Jedi had foreseen something happening to him here. If the situation weren't already stressful enough, there was that on top of it all.
Soon, Zeb, he clung to the thought as he headed out into the compound, steeling himself for yet another cycle. This will all be over soon.
XxX
The first step in this insane plan of theirs had been to change out the Ghost for a less recognizable freighter. She was definitely high up on the Imperial Most Wanted list and they just couldn't risk taking her so near to the core. Once transferred to the ancient light freighter that Ezra would neither confirm nor deny may have been procured by Hondo, Hera set them on a course for the Inner Rim before the small force reconvened in the ship's common area.
They were all already decked out in well-concealing bounty hunter gear, prepared to play the part of seedy hunters looking to make a quick payday. Chopper's new coat of paint was much rougher than usual with Sabine not around to handle it, but that thankfully fit with the look they were going for, not the typical Imperial disguise.
"All right," Hera began, looking around at all of them. "Since we have some late additions to the crew, along with some who've just plain never worked with us before, we should probably take the opportunity to go over everything in depth. Ji, are you up to speed on Project Ash Warrior?"
"Yeah. Wish I could say it shocks me, but I couldn't begin to name the despicable things Zaniva's a part of. And that's just what I uncovered in my time there. This is a whole new level of nasty."
"Too right," Zeb growled, the only one of them not dressed in bounty hunter gear. His typical battle suit had been exchanged for a rough-spun laborer's tunic.
"Which is why we're going to bust this operation wide open. Zaniva's compound is located deep beneath Manaan's ocean," Hera began to explain as she pulled up a holo-map of the area. "But of course they couldn't put themselves completely out of reach of the only proper above water city on the planet, so it's not too far from Ahto City. Kanan, Ezra, and Jidu will be making the actual journey to the compound in order to make the exchange," she said, clearly trying to shake away the bad taste in her mouth at having to refer to a member of her own family in such a way. "Once Zeb's on the inside, he'll be able to make contact with his people."
"Kallus hasn't been able to do that?" Jidu asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He's onsite by now, but pretty much every inch of this place is bristling with surveillance tech of some kind. We'd all hoped he might get a chance to, but he hasn't been able to risk it so far. All he can do right now is maintain his cover. But he has been able to get us information on numbers and the types of conditioning the subjects have been undergoing. It gives us a better idea of how many ships we'll need to steal."
"Stealing ships?" the young spy started in interest. "Definitely haven't heard this part of the plan."
"We'll come to it. Once you all have made the exchange for Zeb, the plan is for you to return to the surface with the transport. Ezra and Kanan will be remaining behind to set up a distraction."
"The Sabine kind of distraction, I hope?"
Hera laughed quietly as she rolled her eyes. "Getting a bit ahead of yourself there. We're starting off small here. Fouling up the air system a bit maybe. The point is they'll need to call in a technician from the surface to bring in some new parts. That's where you'll come in handy."
"Imperial technician extraordinaire," Jidu said with flair, making a motion of tossing hair she no longer had. "I can do that."
"Good, 'cuz this is where things start getting complicated. Another goal here is to let Kallus capture us. If we get away clean, it's all going to look particularly bad on his end."
"Almost like he'd set the whole thing up or something," Ezra put in with a chuckle.
"Unfortunately, yes. We can't afford to lose Fulcrum now, so he still needs to be where he is. That's why he's going to catch you in an act of sabotage. I trust to your improvisational skills, but you'll have to give up either Ezra or Kanan, just to make it look convincing."
"I don't think I'd have any trouble turning the brat over to the Imps," Jidu teased, beginning to tousle with Ezra.
"Oh, no! Treachery!" Ezra started in mock alarm, blocking the older rebel's playful punches.
"You've had it coming, Ezra. I still haven't paid you back for that time in the canyon."
"Well, you had that coming. In my defense, that was mostly Chop's plan."
"Another time, maybe?" Zeb suggested with a growl, though there was still a small spark of amusement in his eyes.
"Right," Hera continued immediately. "Whoever remains free will finish triggering the distraction. A proper emergency will set off a silent alarm that summons an emergency evacuation craft from Ahto City."
"They don't keep those onsite?" Zelina asked, a small look of shock starting up in her eyes.
"They keep one emergency vehicle onsite for their own people," Kanan explained. "But they didn't want to leave a transport just lying around that the Lasat could use to escape. In a truly desperate situation...do you really think the Empire would care if they lived or died?"
The young Mandalorian sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor. "No."
"Either way, things are going to unravel quickly once the evacuation's been set in motion. While this is all happening, Rex, Zelina, Chop, and I will have been working on getting those extra ships. Kallus has left us some intel on which docks will likely be easiest to break into, so that shouldn't be too difficult. We'll need at least three more transports in order to get all of the prisoners offworld. Think we can handle it?" Hera asked the old captain.
"Trust me, Hera, that'll be the boring part of the job," he said with a nod and a smirk.
"Heh, if only it should be so simple. But if everything goes according to plan, Chopper'll be locking down the bay where the Imperials dock. That'll leave us free to make our escape once we have the Lasat. Without their subjects, Project Ash Warrior will quickly lose traction. The Lasat will be free, we'll have won a victory, and Kallus still gets to keep the facade of a good little ISB agent. Everybody wins."
"Everybody except the Empire, at least. So, like you said, everybody wins," Kanan pointed out with a small grin.
"Zeb," Hera said, her voice becoming a little more gentle as she turned her full focus on the Lasat, "I know- that it won't be easy for you down there. Are you ready for this?"
Zeb drew in a long breath before answering, his expression pensive. "I'm ready to do what I have to, Hera. This isn't gonna be pretty, but...this is all I have to give...for everythin' I couldn't do that day..."
The Twi'lek took in the former guardsman's tense appearance for several moments before moving forward and wrapping her arms around his much larger frame. Zeb accepted the hug with a grateful rumble in his chest.
"It'll be all right. We'll get them out. All of them."
One by one, the other Spectres moved in to join the hug. Kanan came first, arms forming easily around Hera and Zeb, followed soon after by Ezra. Rex and Jidu didn't take long to join in either.
"Come on, kid. Get in here," Rex said to Zelina, waving her in when she was the only one left standing on the outside of the hug. She blinked curiously at them for only a moment before smiling, joining the group hug. Even Chopper got in on it as best he could, bumping up against the little group and earning a pat on the dome from all of them – even Zeb.
"Thanks, guys," the Lasat said softly, his easy rumble moving through all of them. "Nobody ever had a better gang of mates at his back than I do right now. Thank you."
None of them marked how long they stood like that, but one thing was certain by the end of it. They all felt just that little bit better about their near-suicidal venture – that much more ready to take on the whole Empire, regardless of the consequences.
XxX
Zeb was on high alert from the moment they broke out of hyperspace. He was still on the bridge of their junker of a freighter with Hera, Kanan, and Rex when they were contacted by port control.
"FX-0600 light freighter, you are ordered to identify yourself at once. You are entering restricted space," a particularly snippy Imperial voice came over the comm.
"This is FX-0600 light freighter, designation Strike Saber," Kanan responded with more of a growl in his voice than he typically spoke with. "We're here to collect on a bounty."
"There are no bounties here, scum," the controller replied, just as they'd been told he would. "You will have to seek elsewhere."
"Really? Because my information puts the drop point right there on your pretty blue world. After all, cats hate water...or so they say," the Jedi said, and even though he didn't falter on the Imperial slur for a Lasat, Zeb could tell he hated having to use it. He could see the way his friend's shoulders tensed in its delivery.
A disgustingly amused laugh sounded over the comm at this. "Indeed they do," the Imperial voice stated. "Perhaps we may yet do business, Strike Saber. Permission granted for docking bay 62. Proceed."
"Proceeding," Hera answered this time.
"Well, this is where the fun begins," Rex ground out before pulling on a helmet to conceal his cloned features. If anyone in the galaxy might recognize him offhand, it would be a gaggle of Imperial scientists.
"Ready to go, big guy?" Kanan asked as he moved back to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's get this over with," Zeb growled, moving with the Jedi down to the cargo bay, where the younger rebels were all waiting. Ezra was decked out in a few simple pieces of armor Sabine had decorated for him, while Zelina was in her own Mando gear. Jidu's armor was a bit more of a mishmash. It would've been better for her to wear a helmet, given her past with Zaniva, but it was also helpful to display her Black Sun mark. Fewer questions that way. So her only piece of concealing gear was an eyepatch covering her left eye, effectively erasing the previous identity she'd used and placing a label on herself that would say only 'Allurian' as far as the Imperials were concerned.
Ezra removed his helmet as they approached, looking somewhat hesitant, and when he produced a pair of binders, Zeb understood why.
"I wanna find this funny, man, but...you gonna be okay?"
Zeb nodded once before handing his bo-rifle over to Kanan, who reverently placed the weapon on his back. "Guard that with your life, Kanan."
"Nothing less than."
"Good. Do it," he said to Ezra as he placed his hands behind his back. The young Jedi nodded before coming around to snap the binders in place. Zeb had to fight the urge to flinch when he heard and felt them lock.
"Docking now," Hera's voice came over the comm system. "Hope you guys are ready for the inspection team."
"Ready and waiting," Kanan said. Instead of his usual, distinctive mask, his blindness was concealed by a simple visor. "Zelina, I need you to be my eyes in the sky. Make sure nobody tries anything."
"Right," she said, quickly scrambling up to one of the catwalks surrounding the bay area and keeping a blaster casually trained on the space. When Zeb moved to his knees and Ezra and Jidu moved in to cover him with their own blasters, it was all a perfect tableau of illegal legitimacy for the Imperial inspection team that entered the bay – a supply officer and two stormtroopers.
"A new crew," the officer noted as she looked around at all of them. "I confess myself surprised Kuross would let such a prime specimen as this slip through his fingers," she finished, eying Zeb up and down at the last in a way that made him want to wash his fur.
"Maybe your star pupil's losing his touch," Kanan said in a casually arrogant tone. "Giren and I go way back and there was no way he was up to this challenge. Nobody but my boys could've caught this claw fish."
"Heheh, Archrem will be pleased with this one indeed," the officer continued as she walked a circle around them. Zeb felt the fur at the back of his neck rise unpleasantly when she ran a hand along his shoulders. The only defiant response he allowed himself was a low warning growl.
"Bad dog!" one of the stormtroopers snapped, dealing him a harsh blow to the side of the head with the butt of his blaster. Zeb went down with a strangled grunt of pain.
"Careful, TK-588. Wouldn't want to damage the merchandise prematurely after all," the officer scolded mildly. "Everything seems to be in order, though. I believe we can take you below," she finished, jerking her head back toward the bay entrance to indicate they ought to follow her.
"On your feet," Ezra snapped at him, disguising a move to help him up as a shove to his side. Zeb growled again as he got to his feet, but begrudgingly fell into step behind the officer.
The Lasat found himself marched from the ship and out into a docking bay, but before they could proceed a step further, another trooper approached them with a strange device in hand.
"What in the hells is that thing?" Jidu asked with a distasteful look.
"Sens-dep helmet," the trooper responded.
"What? You think we can't keep control of our own prisoner?" Kanan demanded sharply, conveying insult rather than the worry Zeb didn't doubt he was feeling.
"Oh, it has nothing to do with you; I assure you," the officer told him. "It's to keep the kitten from knowing too much about his new home before he gets there. Standard operating procedure for Zaniva. Honestly, I wish our Empire would make more use of them."
Zeb couldn't wholly help the step back he took when the trooper approached him again, the fear response not in any way faked. But before he could retreat further, he found himself up against the barrel of a blaster.
"Make a move, you," Jidu's voice came from behind him, firming up his resolve. The words were harsh, but the tone was soothing in that strange way the young Jedhan had. Retreating no further, Zeb only growled as the trooper closed the final distance to lock the helmet on his head.
Immediately, he was plunged into darkness and silence. What little air he'd been able to feel on his face was snatched away in an instant and, worst of all for him, his sense of smell was lost. So far as he could perceive, he was alone in an endless void, save for the feel of the blaster still pressed against his back, which he now clung to with hyper-intensity. He focused on that feeling and the reality of it with a desperation he'd never quite known, needing it to guide him forward, and knowing it was the only point of contact, of comfort, his friends could offer him.
Just keep goin'. You'll get through.
The time between being shoved in the helmet and suddenly being forced to his knees was agonizingly long, and he didn't imagine it was over yet. They would still need to be transported down to the actual facility, and who knew how long that would take? He couldn't help flinching when he felt the press of another blaster against the back of his left shoulder, a little more hesitant than Jidu's, but gradually firming up, likely to let him know it wasn't one of the Imperials.
Ezra.
If that first stretch of time had felt long, trapped in a constant state of nothing, then this most recent stretch actually did seem endless. Desperate to feel something, his nerves sought out the cold seeping in through his fur in a way they usually wouldn't, leaving him feeling horribly, miserably cold. They'd forgotten about him, hadn't they. They were going to leave him here, trapped in silent darkness forever.
Oh, stars, oh, Ashla! I can't do this! I can't-
And then, just when he really thought he might go mad, he felt the brush of something unfamiliar against his thoughts, almost like a warm nudge.
You're not alone, that strange press seemed to say. We're here with you.
Kanan?
Well, if that was something his friend could do with his Force, probably it wasn't such a bad thing. The gentle touch kept him grounded, kept him sane, reminded him to breathe when he almost had no way to know if he still could. He had no way of knowing how long he was like that, but he almost couldn't manage it when he was pushed to his feet again. It didn't seem like much distance before he was on his knees again.
When the helmet was jerked free, the sudden sensory input was violent and harsh. He cried out in pain as he squeezed his eyes shut, even the dim light of the new space much too bright for his more than human eyes. The simple feel of the air against his skin again was like a thousand tiny pinpricks, and the rush of it in his ears was like the roar of a gale force wind. The scents of salt and metal and disinfectant were like assaults on his now much too sensitive nose. It was too much. It was all too much! He was going to lose it! This was-
"Ah, a very fine-looking specimen is this one," a deep, grating voice suddenly lanced into his awareness, pushing past the cacophony of noise in his ears. A slender, but deceptively strong hand gripped his jaw and forced his head back. It was everything he could do not to try to bite that hand.
"I assume he will do you well, Doctor," yet another unfamiliar voice came to him, female this time.
"Oh, very well, I have little doubt. A strong neck, excellent musculature and a well-defined jawline...a sure sign of good breeding among them." Then that hand was forcing his mouth open and fingers were reaching inside to examine his teeth. From where that hand gripped him, he could actually feel its owner shiver. "These fangs...truly magnificent. I would hazard a guess there is even some noble blood in this one's background."
All right, this he was not going to take. Snarling, he attempted to bite the fingers in his mouth, but the scientist was just a little too quick for his overwhelmed reflexes.
"Oooh," the hand's owner shuddered with some sort of sick delight. "Such a beast. I like this one. Wherever did you come across such prime stock, Captain?"
"You'd be surprised what you can find hiding under the rocks on Dantooine," Kanan's strained voice came to him, and because he knew the Jedi, he understood the masked tone of anger in his voice, but anyone else would likely take it as anger over the trouble of capturing Zeb. "Sure hope this one was worth the trouble it cost us."
"I can almost guarantee you he shall be. I'm half-tempted to skip processing and simply use him to inseminate my next group of females."
Zeb could've physically choked on the horror and shock he felt rising in his throat at those words. He knew – of course he knew. Kallus had told him what was being done in this place and he'd been trying to steel himself for it, but to hear it – so outright like that...barely managing to wrench his still-sensitive eyes open, he looked up to find a fairly tall human standing over him. Still short by Lasat standards, but he looked to be only a little shorter than Kallus by Zeb's reckoning. His skin was pale. Not in the way Kal's was; more that it lacked for something. His features were sharp and narrow, framed by long black hair that was pulled back from his face. The eyes that looked out from that face were cold and gray, and they stared down a long nose at Zeb in a way that made him feel like he really was nothing more than a laboratory specimen.
The lead scientist Kallus had told them about. Garst Archrem
He honestly might've tried to jump the scientist then and there had Kanan not come to his rescue.
"Ugh, really? You gotta talk about that right now?" the knight asked in put-upon disgust. "I just ate. Besides, some of us are looking to get paid here. I hear this bruiser's worth a small fortune."
"A shame you are not more of an intellectual, Captain. Kuross is always interested in the science of it."
"I'll just bet he is," Kanan snarled softly.
"But he has not steered you wrong in this case. The going rate, of course. I'd be prepared to offer you a percentage on top of that, but the subject's...viability would need to be proven first."
Zeb shuddered in revulsion at the implication, grateful when Kanan snapped back with, "And how long does that take? I like a bonus just as much as the next scoundrel, but we've got a schedule to keep here."
"Not long at all, really. It's a simple matter of an ejaculate sample," the scientist said, starting to reach a hand out for Zeb's neck, which the Lasat involuntarily pulled back from. If he had to suffer such an indignity twice in only a month...
"Oh, kriffing hells, forget that," Kanan ground out. When Zeb noticed the doctor's hand slide sharply to the side, he had to wonder if maybe the Force wasn't involved in some way. "So don't have time for your xeno-husbandry. Besides, I can do you one better. More than simple breeding stock."
The scientist quirked an eyebrow upward in interest. "All right, you have my attention. What is it that you think is of more value to me than this subject's exemplary genetic material?"
"This one was High Honor Guard. Giren might've mentioned there'd be top credit in it for any son of a gundark that could bring a live one of those in. It isn't just the genetics you want, is it. It's them. Their warrior culture. Only fully trained guardsmen can give you that."
"And we're supposed to just trust your word that this one was High Honor Guard?" the female voice Zeb had heard before asked. When he sought out its source, he found it was a figure he recognized. Older and with graying hair, but he did still know Schader Masaada. He had seen her that day.
"What? The finely crafted weapon strapped to my back isn't proof enough?" the Jedi knight spat out.
"Well...there is one method of identification I believe may satisfy all parties," the scientist said with a look that left Zeb's heart to drop into his stomach. There were only so many times Kanan could refuse to let them...milk him...without starting to look suspicious.
"Man, I told you already, I really don't need to see tha-"
"Not that," the scientist interrupted him before directing a sharp gaze to one of the stormtroopers. "Show me his back."
Zeb didn't have much time to wonder how they planned to do that before a trooper moved in behind him and ripped open the rough fabric at his back, baring his fur to the cold, recycled air of the facility. He struggled briefly when the scientist moved around behind him, but the troopers had a hold of him now. It was all he could do not to forget the plan altogether when he felt the human run clinical, uncaring fingers over his back and shoulders.
"Do you see, Captain? Just here," the man began to explain, fingers examining certain stripes in Zeb's fur. "The pattern of stripes is distinct. Not as individually distinct as a human fingerprint, of course, but distinct enough that lineage may be read within the lines. This one...yes...he is a son of the House of Orrelios. Unquestionably good stock, worth at least the ten percent bonus, and of course there would be little doubt he was a true guardsman. The House of Orrelios produced many of them. So which branch are you?" he asked, speaking to Zeb for the first time in all of this, even though he didn't come back around to look him in the eye. "Talarann? Or perhaps you are one of Bennali's?" he suggested, fingers briefly digging into Zeb's fur. "Oh, I hope you are one of hers. I would give much to have Bennali Orrelios' lineage in this pool."
That did it.
"You say one more word about my gran," Zeb began dangerously, "and I'll bite those kriffing Imperial fingers right the kriff off!" he snarled in rage, attempting to break free of the troopers that held him. He shoved one of them across the room, but before he could get to another, he felt the stinging current of an electro-jabber as the weapon connected with his back. The pain was sharp and instant, causing him to cry out. The current of electricity was powerful enough to drop him completely, leaving him twitching in helpless agony on the floor.
"Mighty Bennali indeed," the human's voice was suddenly whispering in his ear, its owner bent down close to him. "The galaxy has given me an Orrelios. I will see that lovely seed in the womb of every female I have."
He would've torn the man's head off then and there. He would have, plan be damned, but that he was now weak as a loth kitten from the punishing electrical current still wreaking havoc on his system. That and, even if he wouldn't fully admit it, he was still in shock from his stint in sensory deprivation. At the moment, lacking the ability to kill this monster, all he wanted was for everything to just stop.
If there was more said, he didn't hear it. He couldn't focus on any one thing except the feeling of being dragged from the room. By the time he was thrown into a cell, he was blissfully, mercifully unconscious.
XxX
Kanan was little better than Zeb in wishing they could kriff the kriffing plan altogether.
He would've liked to bury his lightsaber in Archrem's face, rather than endure the smugness coming off him in waves as Zeb was hauled away.
He would've liked to shatter the credit disk beneath his boot, rather than feel such blood money burn against the palm of his hand as he pocketed it.
He would've liked to tell the man exactly where he could stick it when he told them to go and enjoy the "wonders" of Ahto City.
But if he lost his control now, the entire operation would be lost. It would mean that Zeb was going through all this, that he had suffered at their hands, all for nothing. He couldn't let Zeb's pain be for nothing.
Even so, even with all this in his heart, it was all he could do to follow their escort back to the surface transport, to use the Force to convince their minds that they'd only brought one bounty hunter down from Ahto City, and to hide with Ezra and observe Jidu boarding the craft with the Imperials. It wasn't until they were some distance away that both of them let out the breaths they'd been holding.
"Kanan," Ezra started with a small quaver in his voice, the helpless anger and despair the knight had felt boiling at the surface of his padawan's thoughts beginning to spill out. "Zeb...they-"
"I know," Kanan soothed, reaching a hand across to rest it on his shoulder. "I know. But we're gonna get him out of here. We're gonna get them all out." Because no matter the practicality or impracticality of it, he just couldn't stand the thought of leaving even one innocent person trapped in this terrible place.
"Why would they just- why do they need to..." Ezra tried several times, struggling to give voice to what it was he wanted to ask. "Aren't there less...hands on methods for doing all this- breeding stuff?"
"There are. More efficient methods, too. Back in the day, the Republic had programs to aide planetary populations struggling with dwindling numbers. But this...I suspect it's done to deprive the Lasat of their pride...make them feel like they aren't anything more than tools of the Empire. Years and years of this kind of treatment...it's bound to wear them down. After all, if you get treated like a dumb animal long enough, that's what you'll become," he said, an unpleasant, unwanted memory of Zeb as he'd first known him swimming to the surface of his thoughts – the Lasat, beaten and broken down, luminous eyes dull and lifeless as he received yet another shock from the electro-collar he was locked into. It was a memory he didn't care to have repeated ever again. So they were just going to have to blow this place literally out of the water. "Now let's get moving. Kallus should've cleared us a path through security feeds by now. We've got a day or so of work to do and only a few hours to do it in."
XxX
There had been times when Zeb had felt better upon regaining consciousness, but then there were also times he'd felt worse, so he wasn't exactly about to start complaining. His wrung-out muscles told him just how much on the receiving end of the electro-jabber he'd been. It was pain he was familiar with, though, and he would recover from it. What he could do without was the tapping sensation he was feeling at his right shoulder. He groaned as he slowly forced his eyes open, only to be met with a pair of wide green eyes that seemed only a little smaller than his own.
He jerked into a sitting position, startling the little one back from him. The boy yelped and scuttled back until he hit the cell wall.
"H- hey there," Zeb started hesitantly, not really sure what else to say.
"Kestry, what did I say?" a familiar voice scolded. "Give him some room to adjust."
"No way," Zeb whispered in shock as he looked to the cell entrance, which was no longer laser-sealed. When the voice's owner came into view, Zeb was presented with a face he'd thought he would never see again in life. "Zekaru Talbenna."
Once the other Lasat got a good look at his face, all he could seem to do was stare at him in shocked amazement.
"Captain?"
Then Zekaru was on his knees beside him, pulling him into a tight hug, which Zeb found himself returning without hesitation.
"Zeb! Garazeb Orrelios! Ashla damn your eyes! I thought you were dead," the taller Lasat all but cried into his shoulder.
"Same, Kar," he returned, feeling the same well of emotion boiling up inside him as he embraced his fellow guard. "I thought the same thing."
"What happened to you?" his former second-in-command asked as he pulled back to have another good look at his face. "How did you escape?"
Zeb shrugged. "Gran got a handful of us out after that last explosion. Years haven't exactly been kind. I'm all that's left of that group. Guess I don't have to ask how you survived," he said, glancing around the small cell.
Kar's expression went grim at this, his gaze falling to the floor. "No. I've been here...all this time. If you remember...I headed the detachment you sent to try and rescue the children after the creche was breached. We couldn't stop them. Alreitha and I were taken. The rest were killed," he recounted, briefly gripping at his own arms.
"Alreitha's here?" Zeb pressed. Another trusted member of the Guard. The more of them that were here, the easier it would be to facilitate this whole plan. "How many? How many other guards?"
"Before you arrived, five of us from the High Guard, and several more from the Low Guard. For their- breeding stock, they prefer members of the Guard," he said, voice full of disgust and old hate as he looked down at his hands.
"Papa?" the little boy suddenly asked in a small voice. "What- what are those funny sounds?"
Hearing the child speak Basic was jarring. It had happened so easily, Zeb hadn't actually noticed that they'd slipped from Basic back into Lasana until it was pointed out.
"It's the language of my people, Kes'aki...of our people," he said, holding his hand out to the child. "Come here. Come and meet Papa's dear friend."
The boy slowly crawled over to them, and once he was safely tucked against his father's side, he peeked shyly up at Zeb. For a moment, all the former captain could manage to do was glance between the former guard and his son.
"You don't speak Lasana with the little ones?" Zeb asked with a twinge of horrified sorrow.
"It's forbidden. They want these children to have their warrior heritage and nothing else. All other aspects of our culture are stripped away. Zeb...do you know what this place is?"
"I've got an idea," he said quietly, glancing around the cell again. In the process, he couldn't help but notice that his clothes had been exchanged for the same type of gray prison jumpsuit Kar and Kestry were wearing. Which meant they had stripped him some time while he was unconscious. Sleemos.
Pulling himself back from the thoughts, he turned his focus back to his friend, shifting to Lasana before continuing.
"Do they understand any Lasana? The scientists?"
"For the most part, no. We've tried not to give them reason to want to understand it...so we have something that's still our own, even if we can't share it with our children," he said, gently stroking the top of his son's head. "But- how do you know what this place is? None of the other new ones who were brought in had any idea where they'd been brought."
"We've got a guy on the inside," Zeb answered. Much as he wanted to, he was not going to risk identifying Alex in any way. Just in case this didn't work, in case anything went wrong, he was going to see that his Tinsana remained safe. Kallus' identity as Fulcrum had to be protected – at any cost. "An alliance has been forming in the years since Lasan fell. I'm a part of that rebellion. What would you say if I told you I was sent in here to get you all out?"
For a moment, Kar's gaze sharpened and his hold on his young son tightened. Then he shuddered as he closed his eyes.
"Not all that long ago, I would've said it was impossible. But now you show up here like some miracle. Heh, typical Orrelios. Is this rebellion of yours prepared for just how many of us there are?" he asked as he looked back up at Zeb.
"We've got the numbers. Everything's been planned out. I just need to make sure everyone can be ready for when the time is right."
"If you'd been anyone else, I would've said you were crazy," Kar said with a small, pained laugh. "You're going to have to let me get the others used to the idea."
"Be just like old times, yeah?" Zeb said, reaching out to grip his old friend's shoulder.
A small smirk showed through the years of anguish and despair that had worn the other Lasat down. "If by 'just like old times', you mean you doing something crazy and me convincing literally everyone else that you actually know what you're doing...then yes. Just like old times."
"Garazeb?" a new, just as shocked, just as familiar voice suddenly joined in the conversation. "Garazeb Orrelios?"
When Zeb looked to the entrance this time, it was to the sight of a woman he knew, though she was difficult to recognize through the weight of the years. Alreitha Rivani had once been a renowned warrior among his guards, unmatched in her deadly beauty. But years of captivity and childbearing had worn her down. Her once proud shoulders were hunched, held close to her center in some sort of futile attempt to protect herself. Her hair was long and unkempt, a strand of it clutched tightly in the hand of a tiny kit, not quite Arkalia's age, but no newborn either. Worse still was the sight that she was clearly expecting another child, the swell of her pregnant belly already visible beneath her prison uniform. All of this was compounded by the fact that Zeb knew Alreitha had once had a Bondmate – a lovely court singer who had been even more renowned for her beauty than Reith herself had been...a woman Zeb had watched die in the arms of her beloved the day Lasan fell. To see graceful, powerful Reith like this – reduced to nothing more than an incubator, forced to share her body with men – it tore at something in the former captain's heart.
"Reith," he started, voice already thick with sorrow even as he offered her a smile, rising to his feet to embrace her. She gripped him tightly with her one arm, the other still curled protectively around the kit she held. When they separated, she looked up at him, smiling sadly as she shook her head.
"Should've known they couldn't kill you...Zeb'aki'a."
"Heh, didn't think I'd ever hear anybody call me that again."
"Without Ash around, somebody's got to keep your head from getting too large."
"You'll try."
"It's all right," Reith called back into the corridor when the sound of skittering hands and feet reached their ears. "He's a friend."
Several tiny faces peered around the entryway at her words, looking curiously in at the new grownup.
"You'll have to excuse them," Reith said with a sigh and another shake of her head. "We don't get new people very often now."
"No, that's- fine. They're not- all yours, are they?" Zeb couldn't manage to stop himself from asking.
"No, but we all care for each other in here. Sometimes it's better not to remember who actually belongs to who. Even Ajyrial here's not actually mine," she said, dandling the little kit at her breast. "Her mother died- to give her life. Among this particular band of troublemakers...only Kestry is mine."
At this, Zeb glanced between his two friends in quiet horror. Kar and Reith had always been partners, that much was true, but to force them into this...it was an insult to their friendship, to the Bond Reith had once shared.
"Don't pity us, Captain," Kar said as he got to his feet with Kestry still in his arms, a little more formal now. "It's...better...to have someone you know...someone you trust. What's worse is to have to see the pairs who were complete strangers...that the Imperials just threw into a cell together and forced to rut like a pair of animals," he growled. "Reith and I can still respect each other, at least."
"Aren't you going to bring him out?" one of the older children suddenly asked. "The cycle won't last forever. Everyone's going to want to meet him."
"Of course, of course," Reith said with a small, indulgent laugh as she switched back to Basic for the kits. Worn down as she was, she was still clearly a figure of authority. Nodding back in the direction she'd come from, she began to move out into the corridor.
"So they don't- keep you in cells all the time?" Zeb asked as he and Kar fell into step beside her, the gaggle of children forming a cluster around them as they moved.
"For the most part, they do. But we are allowed community time once a cycle. A chance to pass on the warrior psyche these people are so terribly fond of," Reith bit out as she walked, a slightly more regal air settling about her hunched shoulders. "Still...it's one of the few things we have to look forward to in this place."
While they walked, Zeb had the chance to fill the two in on everything that had happened and was yet to happen. As they moved through the corridors, more and more Lasat joined them, until a small wave seemed to be moving around them, entering a large communal space. And much though it soothed some long-held ache in Zeb's heart not to be the only purple face in a sea of human faces, it also pained him to know what his people – his friends – were being used for.
The ages of the Lasat gathered in the common area ran the gamut from tiny, fluffy newborns to just a few years older than him. Of course they wouldn't keep anyone who was much older locked up here. They were only interested in reproductively viable Lasat. Reith and Kar brought him to the other three former guards the facility was holding – one of the females he knew, Shantiri Valgayos, and a younger male and female he was less certain of. The boy, Arabyr Devon, he knew had been inducted into the High Guard just before the siege, but he did remember that the younger male had fought bravely during the battle. The girl, Envashtyr Tormalius, he vaguely recalled had been on some sort of probation at the time. She had been away from the capital undergoing spiritual counseling for excessive use of force in combat. Where she stood now, who could say? But Zeb didn't doubt he could trust her to keep herself in check for the sake of the tiny kit clinging to her breast, eyes still unopened.
And if Zeb had had any doubts they were under total surveillance, those were laid to rest when some sort of overhead announcement sounded in the community space.
"By now, I imagine you are all well aware of the fact that a new subject has joined our project," Archrem's snide voice sounded overhead. "His samples have tested extremely well in all categories, so we shall begin using him immediately."
Zeb felt his innards sink all over again at the human's words. His samples? That could only mean that they'd also...taken those samples...while he'd been passed out. They had...actually...
Oh, Ashla...
If he'd actually eaten anything today, he would've thrown it all up by now with the sick feeling of revulsion clawing at his stomach.
Those...beasts.
"I hope all of you in Group Cresh have had the chance to look at Subject Aura 224, as he will be the father of your children. Feel free to get to know him more intimately before the official impregnations begin. The usual exemptions will apply to any who take initiative in this matter. To such ends, your community time shall be extended an extra two hours tonight. Have a pleasant evening, children of Lasan."
"Karabast," Zeb snarled, feeling his entire frame vibrate with rage and disgust. "When I get outta here, I'm gonna tear that Imp's head off myself."
"Threaten later," Shantiri warned him as she began to glance warily around the room. "For now, Captain, you may want to think about choosing a few of the women to bed before the lot of them jump you."
"What?" Zeb demanded, following Tiri's gaze and seeing that several of the women were now eying him with a little more intent now that some sort of open season seemed to have been declared. Even a few of the younger ones who didn't quite look old enough to be mating were looking to him with a kind of desperation in their eyes. "What was he talkin' about? What exemptions?"
"They'll sometimes allow us to- engage with each other...of our own choosing," Arabyr began to explain, shuddering at some unpleasant memory. "Some would prefer even that small illusion of choice over no choice at all...would prefer to do it here among our own people and not in a cell, being watched by Imperial scientists."
"Any woman who takes your seed to her belly tonight will not be made to do so again this round," Tiri continued, her own interest in the notion showing through in spite of her respect for him. "For many, even one reprieve from exhibition is worth everything," she said, not wholly able to help herself when she stretched her wrist toward him, brushing it gently along his hip in the hope of wakening him to her.
Zeb didn't jerk back from her like he wanted to. He knew she couldn't help it. This was her life now. It was the only way to get by. Even without anything in his stomach, he honestly feared he might be sick. But he didn't let his horror show. Instead, he took her hand, pushing it unerringly away from his body.
"Tiri'ka...orra," he said, gently but firmly, continuing in Lasana. "That's not happening. It's never gonna happen to any of you, ever again."
A flash of long-burning anguish sparked behind the guardswoman's eyes at that, though she did respect his command. A few tears slid from her eyes as she asked him, "And how do you imagine that's going to happen?"
"Because we're getting out of here. All of us."
The whispers immediately began to spread among those who had understood him. For those who hadn't, all of the younger ones, Kar called out in Basic, "Come sit, everyone. I want to tell you a story about Captain Garazeb Orrelios."
"The queen's knight?" one of the little girls squealed in excitement.
"The royal guardian!" one of the boys cheered. Apparently the other guards had told stories about him before.
"Yes. I'm going to tell you about a time when he was still just a cadet and he saved Princess Zorahan and his entire unit."
"Got yourselves a bit of a folk hero?" Zeb quietly asked Tiri in Lasana as many of the others moved to gather around Kar.
"Well...you know how it is," she said with a shrug. "You need the stories. You need them to get by."
"Only hope I can live up to what you all've been telling these scamps."
"If anyone could, it would be you," she said, visibly resisting the urge to reach out and touch him again. But even with his earlier pronouncement, many of the women looked like they were still more interested in the actual Captain Orrelios than in just hearing a story about him. "Though...we are still under surveillance. If only to satisfy them...and to keep these other kath hounds at bay...you may want to at least fake making a choice."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye for a long moment before speaking up again. "I can fake it if you think it'll help, Tiri, but I'm not doin' more than that. My heart is bound. I have a Bond, and I won't betray that Bond."
"I understand," she returned as she took his hand in hers. "It's easy enough- to appear to be doing something. Especially if, as you say, I won't be subjected to a scan afterward."
"Never again," he promised her as she led him away from the gathering, toward an out of the way corner of the area that had clearly been set up for this sort of thing – a few chairs and a ratty old blanket. Pushing him into one of the chairs with a need that was only partly faked, she quickly grabbed the blanket and pulled it over them as she settled herself on his lap. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of Kar telling his story.
"But the young guard knew better. He knew exactly what sort of dangers were awaiting the princess."
"This is starting to sound a lot more epic than I remember," Zeb said with a chuckle, helping Tiri to move subtly against him, creating the illusion of more activity than was actually happening. "More stumbled into a plot was what I did."
"It isn't just that, Captain," she returned, smiling against him. "There's a code to it. We have to be able to speak to each other even when we can't speak Lasana. He's telling everyone what's happening."
They didn't speak much as they continued their performance, giving Tiri the opportunity to listen in on Kar's tale of Zeb's thrilling heroics. She was obviously taking more meaning from it than Zeb himself was, because when Kar came to a bit about him taking on an entire force single-handedly, he thought he saw tears in her eyes.
"Hey?" he started, pulling her tightly against him to simulate their peak. "You okay?"
"As I can be. Just remembering how my parents were always saying the queen made a good choice with you...even when so many others doubted her. To survive what you have...all alone-"
"I wasn't alone," he said quietly as he held her, hoping to give her just this simple bit of intimate contact that wasn't putting any other demands on her. "They're a ragtag bunch, but I've had my friends with me. They're my family. They always come through."
"Still...to even think you were alone...that you might be the last of us...you are braver than I am, Captain. Especially to willingly walk in here. I only hope this plan succeeds."
"It will," Zeb soothed as he held his friend and fellow guard.
It has to.
"So the next time you find yourself facing such a situation, remember Garazeb Orrelios," Kar started to wrap up his little tale. "The galaxy may be insane, the beings in it even more so, and you may have to be insane right along with them all, but most of all I want you to understand that you have the power to do what you know is right, even if nobody else will help you."
Zeb didn't need to know their code to take the meaning of those words. They would do their best to rise up, but they were counting on him. His people were counting on him and his friends to come through.
I let you all down before. I failed you. I'm not gonna fail you again.
XxX
Jidu had been in her element slipping into the role of Imperial tech. It hadn't been at all difficult to get the uniform and scan docs from the tech who had actually been called. The most important thing she retrieved from the man, though, was his technician's override code. When things got hot, as they almost inevitably seemed to, that code would open doors that might otherwise remain closed. This allowed her to work at her saboteur's leisure as she went about further fowling up what Ezra and Kanan had begun before her arrival.
Everything was going according to plan – and wasn't it an interesting commentary on the state of affairs when you could say that the sudden feel of a bo-rifle bayonet pressing against your back was all part of the plan.
"Don't move...rebel."
XxX
(A/N) All righty, next time we'll be seeing what all has been happening on Kallus' end. Then things'll really get crazy. Until then, dear readers, adieu.
