(A/N) Hello once again, my fellow Rebels fans! So...this chapter was a bit of an odyssey. As you may or may not have heard, I actually lost roughly the first half of this new chapter during an OS update for my computer, so I basically had to go back through and reconstruct the missing scenes from memory and the few scraps I had in my notebook. So is it the same chapter you would have gotten? Unfortunately, no, and that deeply saddens me, as I recall really liking what I had before, but I just couldn't manage to reconstruct it all exactly. It's not bad or anything, it's just not...quite what it was. So I apologize and hope you still enjoy. Only other thing I can think to mention is that this chapter I will be bringing you Star Wars Art Critic - Grand Admiral Thrawn Edition.
The Colder the Winter, the Warmer the Spring
Chapter 14: A Hangman's Knot and Three Mouths to Feed
Honestly, who knew downtime was so much work?
Well, Kallus supposed most Imperial officers undergoing enforced recovery were not also moonlighting as rebel spies, so that might have had something to do with the stress of it, but that was neither here nor there so far as he was concerned. He would've been going stir crazy even if he hadn't been in fear of being outed as a spy.
Thrawn wouldn't even allow him to assist with simple bookkeeping or office work tasks, insisting he follow the letter as well as the spirit of the recovery period regulations. It was unfortunate, really, because clerical espionage was a task he excelled at. No one ever wanted to tackle the endless streams of datawork that were necessary to keep a regime running, but when you knew how they worked and were willing to immerse yourself in them, well...then you could become the master of the system.
It would've been a feather in his cap indeed to begin sowing discord aboard the Chimaera itself, the heart of the Seventh Fleet. But it might have also been a terrible risk. Thrawn was no fool, after all. And Kallus knew it would take only one wrong move for the Chiss to have him all figured out. In the grand scheme of things, espionage aboard this Star Destroyer was just too dangerous. That didn't mean, however, that he couldn't be on the listen for useable intelligence. Yet another reason he was annoyed at Thrawn's insistence he continue his rest period. It left him too much on his own to consider the noose closing around his neck. Worse still, to consider what Zeb must be going through right now.
So far as the Lasat knew, he might be dead already. The Rebellion had received no Fulcrum transmissions from him these last few weeks and there was no way he was going to risk sending the Fulcrum signal from the Chimaera. The Spectres had received no word from him personally...but was that a risk he perhaps did dare to take? After all, Zeb was likely tearing himself up. If there was anything he could do to ease his lover's pain – anything at all – didn't he have the responsibility to take that risk?
He had many ways to communicate with Zeb unrelated to his Fulcrum channels. Unfortunately, most of those ways were tied to his personal civilian datapad back aboard the Lawbringer. He had personal frequencies for Zeb and the other Spectres, but he didn't dare utilize any of them while still aboard the Chimaera. The risk of trace was just too great. Even their emergency channel he couldn't guarantee would be fully secure from this location. As such, his only option was to use one of the pirated frequencies he and Zeb kept on hand. Such a little thing would only register as comm static within the matrix of the Star Destroyer's communications network.
So, within the relative safety of his temporary quarters, Kallus booted up a datapad he'd conveniently borrowed from maintenance; something he could wipe and reformat after the fact. Then, starting off in Lasana as an added layer of security for any unusually diligent comms officers, he tapped out a message, sending it to ping from one end of the galaxy to the other before arriving at its scrambled destination, unknown even to him.
[306956FNQ]: San syv arrin avashty?
It didn't take more than a minute for Zeb to accept the connection, quickly typing out his own message.
[302768RDG]: KAL? Sanin an?
[306956FNQ]: An rokirin san. Mal san syv arrin avashty?
[302768RDG]: Eri.
[306956FNQ]: I can't talk long, but I had to speak with you. I wanted to make sure you were all right.
[302768RDG]: ME? You were the one who- Karabast, Kal, where have you been? It's only been a kriffin MONTH!
Kallus shook his head, smiling faintly as he tapped out his next response.
[306956FNQ]: It has not. It's been two weeks and four days. I was in bacta suspension for two weeks. That's why I haven't been in touch.
[302768RDG]: But you're all right?
[306956FNQ]: The shoulder's still a bit stiff, but otherwise yes. Full recovery.
[302768RDG]: Alex...why did you do that?
The agent stiffened faintly upon seeing the question. He delayed his response by trying to play dumb.
[306956FNQ]: Do what?
[302768RDG]: You let Kar stab you. I couldn't see much that day, but I could see that. You didn't even try to protect yourself. Why?
Kallus sighed as he thought it over. There were many reasons. Reasons and reasons again, many of which he didn't imagine Zeb would like, so he attempted to stick with the practical in responding.
[306956FNQ]: Of the two of us, I was the one who had all the information in that fight, so I had to choose how it ended. If I'd let it go on, you wouldn't have been able to escape. Besides, he's your friend. I didn't want to hurt him.
[302768RDG]: So you get hurt instead? Hope that wasn't supposed to make me feel better.
[306956FNQ]: I'm sorry to make you worry, but I truly am all right.
[302768RDG]: Then why'd it take you so long to let me know? Where are you anyway?
The former Imperial hesitated a long moment before typing out his next response. Zeb really wasn't going to like this one.
[306956FNQ]: At the moment, I'm aboard the Chimaera.
For a moment, there was no response. It gave Kallus just enough space to picture the shocked realization fluffing up the Lasat's fur before-
[302768RDG]: The CHIMAERA? Thrawn's kriffin flag ship? The center a' the whole Seventh Fleet?! What the kriffin hells are you doin there, Alex?
[306956FNQ]: It's not by choice, I assure you. Thrawn had me transferred to the care of the Seventh Fleet's medical section while I was still under. He...insists I carry out my recovery period aboard the Chimaera. That's why I haven't been in touch. This isn't easy.
[302768RDG]: Alex
Another pause between this and the Lasat's next response.
[302768RDG]: Do you remember what I said to you when we left Alluvium?
[306956FNQ]: Zeb.
[302768RDG]: Do you remember?
Alex sighed heavily before typing out his answer.
[306956FNQ]: Of course I remember. I'm to think about the situations I get myself into and consider how I would respond were it you in my place.
[302768RDG]: And how would you respond if it was me onboard the Chimaera?
Kallus swallowed painfully at the thought. He would be lying if he said the very idea didn't make his stomach turn, but it would also be a slightly different situation if Zeb were aboard the Chimaera.
[306956FNQ]: Probably threaten to blow up Coruscant if you weren't released.
[302768RDG]: So what do you expect me to do right now? Cuz I can do that if you want.
The agent gave a small laugh at that one, though he sighed as he typed out his next reply.
[306956FNQ]: As romantic a gesture as wholesale arson surely is, this is a somewhat different situation. I can't just leave. The mandated recovery period lasts another four cycles.
[302768RDG]: You could probably leave if there was some sort of emergency...
Alex stared at the screen for a hard minute, irritation bristling along his shoulders.
[306956FNQ]: Zeb, I hope you aren't thinking of doing something foolish. It's only four days, for stars' sake.
[302768RDG]: And I didn't know if you were dead or alive for two weeks, so call me a little foolish. They were the longest of my life. Those two weeks...
Feeling a fresh trickle of guilt well up in his heart, Alex chewed on his lip a moment before answering.
[306956FNQ]: I'm sorry for what you've been through. I can only imagine what it must have been like...to go so long without knowing. But I promise you this will be over before long. There's nothing to worry about. I will soon be gone from here.
[302768RDG]: If there's nothin to worry about, why is Thrawn insistin on keepin you so close? Seems to me that oughta worry you.
[306956FNQ]: I don't deny that Thrawn has...an interest in me. But I don't think it's because he suspects me. I think it's because he hasn't been able to figure me out. I'm sure even the idea of that is both frustrating and...alluring to him.
[302768RDG]: So you're gonna give him even more opportunities to figure you out? Karabast, Kal.
[306956FNQ]: It's fine. It will all be fine. He won't catch me.
[302768RDG]: Would it honestly kill you to at least think about cutting and running? If the stress of it all doesn't kill you, it might actually kill me. I know you'll say somethin ridiculous about how you haven't given enough, but you just about gave your life to help the people you wronged. You would have. Can't no livin being say you haven't given enough.
Alex felt his throat go tight as he read Zeb's words. The Lasat could never truly understand and he was at least glad of that, but it wasn't about breaking even. No atonement he could carry out could ever be equivalent to the screams of even one murdered child. All he could really do was try to be better. To give the best he could. He owed the galaxy that much.
He needed several moments to just breathe before he could respond again.
[306956FNQ]: Zeb...this isn't just about my sins. It's not really about how I feel at all. So long as I have the ability to carry out this mission, I've got to do it. No matter how many Fulcrum agents the rebellion trains, there may well never be another like me. I can do more good where I am now, so I'll do what I can while I can still do it.
The pause before Zeb's next reply was long enough it gave Alex enough time to picture his lover sighing, his expression sagging in defeat as he typed.
[302768RDG]: You're right. I hate that you're right, but it doesn't mean you're not right.
[306956FNQ]: Thank you, Garazeb.
[302768RDG]: Don't gotta thank me. Just gotta stay alive long enough so I can scold you for it in person.
[306956FNQ]: Of course. I should be terminating the connection very soon here, but I also wanted to ask how everyone's been doing. Are your people adjusting well? Are the other Spectres all right? How is Jidu?
[302768RDG]: They're all good. Ji's fine. More than fine. She's mostly recovered, and she's gettin along very well with one of our new recruits.
Alex eyed the response sideways a moment before responding.
[306956FNQ]: You mean to say...
[302768RDG]: Oh, I mean all right. I've never heard a Syren screech like that before. I swear, those two'd be makin a baby of their own if they could.
The agent shook his head, laughing quietly.
[306956FNQ]: Honestly, it doesn't surprise me at all. I believe Jidu Ailytè could seduce Tarkin himself out of his own governorship if the notion were to enter her head. But...some of the babies have been born then?
[302768RDG]: Yeah. One girl and two boys so far. Everybody's doin good. We're just waitin on a few more to be born before we try to move em again.
[306956FNQ]: Good sense. And how is Lia?
[302768RDG]: She's good. Gettin bigger every day. She likes seein all these new little ones. She's gonna have a lot of playmates when we take em to their new home.
[306956FNQ]: Wonderful.
This was what he wrote, but it was far from what he felt.
You have to let her go. It's the best thing for her. You promised Arekaya you would get her somewhere safe.
But...she's ours.
Yours? How precious. Will she be safe with you? Will she ever be safe with you? If you care for her as a daughter, you must love her enough to give her up.
Thoughts unpleasantly darkened by his own thorough self-scolding, Kallus began to type again.
[306956FNQ]: I should be disconnecting. Give her a kiss for me?
[302768RDG]: Might wake her up if I do it now, so it'll keep til morning, but sure. Only just got her down before your comm. She was fussy tonight.
[306956FNQ]: Is it night there?
[302768RDG]: Yeah. Might not have caught me if it wasn't. Busy times in the Rebellion against the Empire. At least you and Kali give me somethin to do in the night hours.
Kallus was about to sign off when he really thought about the last bit of Zeb's message. Had he meant to phrase it that way?
[306956FNQ]: Ni ashkerra...
[306956FNQ]: Do I understand that to mean you aren't sleeping?
The length of the pause before Zeb began to respond told Kallus everything he needed to know, but still the Lasat attempted to offer up an explanation.
[302768RDG]: Not like that, no. I just meant when I need to be up for watch shifts. That kinda thing.
[306956FNQ]: Zeb...would you lie to me?
[302768RDG]: No.
[306956FNQ]: Well, that answers the question right there.
[302768RDG]: It's not like that. Things are just busy. You've got enough to worry about without havin to worry over me, too. So put it out of your mind. Pretty sure you said you had to disconnect. You should probably be gettin some rest yourself.
Alex gave another hard swallow as he tapped out his response, feeling guilt lodge in his chest. If this was happening because of him, because Zeb had been worrying over him...
[306956FNQ]: I love you, Garazeb. Of course I'm going to worry over you. So let me have my worry.
[302768RDG]: Fine, fine. You really don't need to be worryin about that, though. I'll see you. L'ashkerrir an.
[306956FNQ]: I love you, too. Please get some sleep.
[302768RDG Disconnected]
Kallus felt his heart sink a little when Zeb didn't respond. Likely he would need to see about contacting Hera and Kanan, see if they knew anything about what might be happening.
For now, though, alone in his temp quarters once again, he pulled his recorder pendant out of his uniform, needing the feel of the smooth metal beneath his fingertips.
He wore the pendant always now. It was the first thing he'd asked after following Thrawn's questioning, relieved to learn that it hadn't been tampered with in any way. Being an ISB agent, he was allowed some leeway, but the little device wasn't all that different in appearance from a regulation Imperial tag unit. There wasn't really any cause for further probing. Even so, after the near miss with Konstantine, he was painstakingly careful with his treasure. He kept holos of the slain members of his first unit on the pendant – something that might've been expected of someone in his position. Beneath that, his true memories were kept safe by a complex layer of encryption that would take a painfully determined snoop to break through.
He didn't dare unlock the corder's true contents while still aboard the Chimaera, unable to know if he was under surveillance at all times or not. Words on a datapad couldn't be picked up on a basic security hologram, but holo images certainly could be. Even though he couldn't open the pendant, it was a comfort to him to have it close. To feel its solid reality in the palm of his hand. Sighing, he offered up something of a silent prayer as he pressed the cool material to his forehead.
Zeb...Lia...I'll come back to you. I will do everything in my power to come back to you, but you do actually have to be there when I come. Your survival is no less negotiable than mine is. I hope you know that.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Zeb was getting back to doing exactly what Kallus feared he was doing.
He wasn't sleeping.
He hadn't been able to manage a decent night's sleep since Manaan. More than worrying over Alex's safety, he found he was still haunted by his experiences in the sens-dep unit. Any rest he managed was plagued by the macabre images induced by the hallucinogen Archrem had injected him with. Worse even than that were the nightmares of nothingness – the endless expanse of oblivion that lay just behind his eyes whenever he tried to close them.
So rather than face the yawning void that hid just behind his eyes and beneath his soul, waiting to snap him up the moment he let his guard down, he ran from it. He took as many night watch shifts as he could get. He spent time in the Lasat encampment. He played with Kali and the little ones. He worked with Rex and Rihima to try and figure out the exact nature of the biochips Zaniva had been using. Hera and Kanan hadn't called him on it yet, but he could feel their worried attention shifting more and more in his direction all the time. So he just tried to lose himself in everything else. He hadn't really minded calming Kali before Alex's comm. It had given him something to focus on.
He looked fondly at the little kit in her cradle, sleeping peacefully. It had been moved from Sabine's room in her absence. She wouldn't be able to fit the tiny bed the Mandalorian had so lovingly hand-painted for much longer, but it was still a precious sight. More and more often these days, she would actually sleep with one of them. Mostly it would be him or Ezra or Rex, but she also seemed to be finding her way into Hera and Kanan's room with greater frequency, as well.
Tonight wasn't one of those nights, though, as all the others had already been asleep by the time he'd carried Kali back onto the Ghost. He was amazed she was still asleep right now, as Ezra had begun to snore pretty loudly, but she was out like a light, a sweet, drooly smile on her face.
Ezra, on the other hand, didn't seem to be quite so lucky anymore. He started awake from his latest snore, blue eyes blinking open as he took in his surroundings. When comprehension returned to them, he stared at the two Lasat for several moments in quiet.
"You finally get her to go down?" he asked, looking down at the baby girl with a warm smile.
"Yeah. That and Kal finally commed me. I was talkin' to him."
"He's all right?" Ezra asked, his look shifting to one of relief. "Y'know, that is still really weird. I'm actually happy about Agent Kallus being alive."
"Heh, you'll get there, kid."
Ezra's gaze shifted to him, some insight that Zeb didn't imagine he'd like very much snapping into place as he looked at him.
"You going to bed soon?"
"Yeah," he lied. "I'm just gonna stay up with her a little longer."
XxX
Ezra knew there was trouble when he heard the sound of Arkalia giggling from the far end of the supply corridor. This was followed in short order by Commander Sato's panicked shout and a very unpleasant-sounding crash.
"IF SOMEONE DOESN'T TAKE CHARGE OF THIS KIT IMMEDIATELY, I SWEAR I WILL KEEP HER IN A BOX!"
The young Jedi rushed to the end of the corridor and peeked into the last room. He was greeted by the sight of a thoroughly steamed Sato standing amidst a landslide of collapsed crates with AP-5 at his side and a giggling Arkalia in his arms.
"Eheh, sorry about that, Commander. She got away from me," Ezra apologized nervously as he stepped into the room, quickly plucking the kit from the less-than-amused commander's arms. "You know what a little escape artist she is."
"Yes. Precisely why a closer eye ought to be kept on her," Sato said, raising an eyebrow at the younger commander as he began to slither backward out of the room.
"Oh, dear. Now this entire storeroom will have to be re-inventoried," AP-5 lamented. "Should not you assist with this, Commander Bridger?" the droid asked pointedly.
"Oh, sorry, AP-5. No can do. Gotta keep a closer eye on the kit after all," Ezra said. Perfectly reasonable. And as the droid continued to whinge, Sato shook his head. But the last look Ezra caught in his eyes was a tiny spark of warm amusement. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, even the hard as durasteel commander had warmed to the little kit.
Once Ezra had her, Ari had immediately started to climb all over him. She, of course, had no idea of the commotion she'd caused. She just wanted to play.
"Can't blame you for that, kitten," the young Jedi teased when he finally managed to catch hold of her. How Lasat parents managed to keep up with their kids, he had no idea. "But it looks to me like you could maybe use a haircut."
Ari's purple hair had grown much longer since she'd come to Atollon and she seemed to be having trouble keeping it out of her eyes. The only issue was he couldn't imagine placing a vibro-shiv anywhere near the squirmy kit. It was almost a guarantee he'd hurt her.
"Though...maybe..." he started to himself, thinking up the perfect solution to their hair problem. Before long, he was heading over to the Lasat camp, as that was where Zelina could usually be found.
"Hey, Ezra!" Jorrah called out when he spotted him. "Off duty today?"
"At the moment, yeah. Have you seen Zel?"
"Yeah. She's over at the Mothers' tent with Lirian."
"Great," Ezra said, immediately switching directions from the med tent he'd been heading toward. Jorrah quickly followed after him.
They'd told the refugees they would've been happy to build them hardier shelters if they could get the material, but the Lasat had insisted on being as outside as they possibly could be after years of being buried under hundreds of meters of ocean. Those who remembered it wanted to feel the warmth of a sun again. Many more had never known sunlight at all. So there were tents, but many of the Lasat spent as much time as they could out in the open air.
The Mothers' tent was a central place for the mothers-to-be and the mothers who had recently given birth to gather. To recover and to prepare and whatever else needed to happen. When Zelina wasn't assisting Rihima, she could either be found there or at the med tent.
Or with Wedge, Ezra thought with a snicker. The two weren't at a point where he could tease them about it yet, but the initially squabbling pair had become fast friends. There was definitely some kind of spark there and, like his master before him, he was looking forward to being able to mercilessly tease his two friends.
Zel was sitting just outside the Mothers' tent with Lirian, the youngest of the mothers-to-be. She was twenty, and while that didn't seem all that young to him from the approaching side of the age, Zeb had explained that it was young for a Lasat. This was her first pregnancy and she was already much larger than the others, pregnant with twins, which was apparently rare among the Lasat.
She and Zelina were becoming good friends and he felt sure Sabine would like her, too. While she wasn't an artist in quite the same way the Mandalorian was, she did have the most beautiful singing voice Ezra had ever heard. Everyone in both the camp and the base liked to stop what they were doing and listen to her sing whenever she happened to be. Lirian wasn't singing just now, though. She was busy keeping Kestry entertained while Zelina fed one of the new arrivals. Ezra couldn't remember the kit's name yet, but he did remember that her mother hadn't been able to nurse her after she was born.
"Hey, Zel! Hey, Lirian!" he called out to them in greeting as he approached, remembering not to shout too loudly, lest he frighten the newborn.
"Ezra!" Kestry shouted in excitement, leaping out of Lirian's arms and scampering toward him. "Ezra! Ezra! Will you play tag with us again today?"
"Maybe in a minute, little man. I need some help with Ari first."
"What's wrong with Ari?" Zelina asked, looking up from the infant in her arms.
"Nothing's wrong as such. She's just having trouble with hair in her eyes. I don't think I can hold her still long enough to cut her hair. I was wondering if you could show me how to braid it. I don't really know how," he admitted sheepishly.
"Sure," the young medic said, a brilliant smile immediately lighting up her face. "Jorrah, do you think you could hold Minaksha for a bit?"
"No problem," he said, coming forward to gather the little bundle in his arms. "Hey, there, Min'aki," he crooned, soothing her when she began to whimper.
Again, Ezra found himself somewhat astounded by what a natural hand all of the Lasat seemed to be at handling children. Even the youngest toddlers were perfectly capable of handling the babies. He understood why, of course, but he still couldn't help comparing it to his own early days with Arkalia, with how awkward he'd been with her.
Well, the times they are a'changin', he found himself thinking as he passed Ari to Zel.
"Hey, Ari. Guess what? You're getting braids today! Isn't that exciting?"
Ari, of course, had no idea what any of them were talking about, but Zel's jubilation was catching, because the little Lasat began to clap and squeal, squirming in the young Mandalorian's lap.
"Ohoho, hold still for me, sweetie," Zel cajoled her, coaxing her to sit still. Unlooping one of the many braids that crisscrossed her own head, she lowered the length of hair into Arkalia's grip, letting her see and touch it. They all laughed when the little girl proceeded to place the braid in her mouth, sucking on it experimentally.
"Haha! You've got a tug on your line there, Zel. I think you caught something," Ezra teased lightly.
"Oh, yes. The dreaded Ari fish!" she declared before tickling the baby's tummy, drawing out a fresh round of giggles. Once Ari had released the braid and settled a little more, Zelina began to parse out her hair. While Ezra kept Ari's attention focused on him, Zelina began her lesson.
"All right, so we're going with two braids today," she said, dividing Ari's hair down the back of her head. "You divide the hair into three strands, just like this," she demonstrated. "Then you take the two outer strands and cross them over each other like such. And then you take the middle strand and you weave it into the new space, and once you've got this base, you just keep alternating the strands all the way down. And that, my young apprentice, is how you do a braid," she finished with a flourish as she tied the neat little braid off at the end.
"Okay. Pretty sure I got it," Ezra said with a nod.
"Feel like tackling the second braid, then?" Zelina offered.
"Sure," the young Jedi said, shifting to sit beside them, but Ari began to wriggle almost immediately, trying to look at the braid on the side of her head. It took some doing for Zel to catch her attention long enough for Ezra to attempt to braid the rest of her hair, but he managed it.
The braid was nowhere near as straight or uniform as Zelina's braid when she finally tied it off for him. Several of the strands were loose and turned about, but the young medic offered him an encouraging grin.
"Don't worry. You'll get there."
Ari certainly didn't notice one way or the other. She was just thrilled to have braids in her hair. She swung her little head from side to side, whipping the braids in every possible direction as she squealed with delight.
"Such a lovely little princess," Lirian said as the little girl crawled around the circle, showing off the braids.
"Better be careful of that one. Zeb insists she's queen," Ezra said with a snicker.
"I can't see anybody arguing that point," Zelina said as she took Minaksha back from Jorrah.
"Ezraaaa! Now can we play tag?" Kestry pressed him.
"Haha, sure, Kes. Go find the others. Gonna have to be a quick one, though. They'll need me back up at the base in an hour."
Kestry was already gone before he'd even finished speaking. Smiling guiltily, he looked to his small group of friends. "Think you guys might be able to keep an eye on her 'til then?"
"No problem," Zel said with a teasing grin. "Really, I'm not sure you'll last even that long. Good luck."
"Challenge accepted, Arsane," he said, swinging his arms wide as he backed away from them.
"Wave bye-bye to Ezra, Ari. It's been nice knowing him," the Mandalorian said with a shrug.
"Aza! Aza!" Ari protested, attempting to crawl after him, but Jorrah quickly grabbed hold of her with his foot, pulling her back into the circle.
"Challenge accepted to what? Beat a bunch of kids at their own game?"
"Oh, no. No, no, no," Ezra reassured his friend. "The challenge is to stay alive until the kids get tired."
XxX
Although Kallus was still unnerved to be in Thrawn's presence much of the time, he was at least relieved to no longer be on recovery. If not being on recovery meant being in Thrawn's presence, he would certainly take the lesser of two evils. Well-rested though he might be, he was less than a millimeter from losing his mind. So he currently stood in the Chiss' office, waiting in silence while he studied a holo of a new piece of art that had come into his collection. The grand admiral had given him the dossiers he would require to catch up on work he'd missed, but for whatever reason, the man hadn't yet given him leave to go. His brain was now beginning to buzz with possibilities over just what it was the Chiss was attempting to do.
"Are you at all familiar with this particular piece, Agent?" the grand admiral asked without looking back at him, intently studying the holo before him.
Glancing at the image, Kallus found himself unfamiliar. Only seldom was he actually familiar with whatever piece Thrawn was studying. Visual art had never been one of his hobbies.
"I cannot say as I am, Sir," he admitted.
"So much the better, perhaps. What would you say of it?" he continued.
Kallus took a harder look at the image. He knew he wouldn't be able to offer the insight Thrawn was hoping for, but he also didn't need to be getting too deep into discussions of any sort with the grand admiral anyway. He'd mostly managed to avoid it this last week and he was almost home free. Why risk the Chiss pulling him into another conversation he might use as a probing tool? On the other hand, he couldn't exactly ignore the question either.
"It looks to be a depiction of a figure arising from flame and flood," he said, describing the way the image's central figure arose from a swirled combination of fire and water. He didn't say so, but it wasn't unlike Sabine's firebird icon, although a great deal less in the realm of the abstract than the younger artist's.
Thrawn remained silent for several moments before responding. "You are not incorrect in this assessment. That is what the image depicts, but more may be read than the simple veneer of the piece's physical subject. Because the two subjects are so similar, let us compare with the work of the Rebel artist Sabine Wren. Her work may be said to depict a figure rising in flame, born and reborn in perpetual cycle, but always in flame, so that such a figure could be said to be working with the natural processes of life. This figure, though, is somewhat different. Note the positioning of the hands. One outstretched in a placating gesture, as if to calm or tame these natural forces, and the other raised, clenched into a fist, perhaps less to work in conjunction with these forces...and now the master of their power. I would say it is also of note that this indistinct figure possesses both masculine and feminine physical qualities as far as human standard extends."
"Intellect over nature," Kallus said quietly, looking at the symbology with fresh eyes. "The power of mind over matter."
"Among other things, yes. The truly intriguing thing about the culture that produced this work is that it is one of a very few that developed atheistically. Their cultural narrative is utterly without any sort of deity or higher being. Within such a setting, notions of beauty and artistry and other lenses commonly applied to artistic works must, out of necessity, be viewed in a different light. To the artist who originally created this, it would best be assumed that the idea of beauty and of the sublime lay within self-reliance. Nothing inhibits this piece's subject. The figure is masterless and free, free to either succeed and ascend to the stars overhead...or free to fail and sink into the mud below. Whatever the outcome, their fate will be their own, and that...that is the double-edged blade of free will," Thrawn explained, a hint of his own notion of the sublime echoing in his voice throughout.
"Indeed," Kallus conceded in the same quiet voice. "You seem to have given this a fair amount of thought. Has the work joined the phoenix symbol in the rebel repertoire recently?"
Thrawn raised an eyebrow as he finally looked in his direction. "Though I have admitted to your ability to confound me, Agent Kallus, I was at least a little surprised you were unfamiliar with the piece. This is a chief example of what scholars look to in the study of the art of the people of Salear."
Kallus gave no physical reaction to the revelation of the artwork's origin, much though he would've loved to indulge in a sneer. So here they were again. Another of Thrawn's attempts to understand him. If this was what he'd hit upon, he was more than a little off the mark.
"A little more than kin, and less than kind," he said coldly, attention shifting back to the holo – an image his father had surely been proud of in some way.
"Pardon?"
"I know very little of my father's people. I had not even set foot on Salear until recently. If you would know more of the culture that shaped me, I would advise you look to the works of Wynn Sallah. My mother was a student of her poetry. That was a line of hers," he explained.
"Ah, yes, of course. The Songsmith of the Second City. I confess I am somewhat less familiar with the literature of the Empire and its forebears, but I do recall it from my own academy days. I gather I am to take the line as a dismissal?" Thrawn asked, watching him with interest now.
"Among other things," Kallus said, repeating the Chiss' phrasing from earlier. "I am Salerian in name and in genome, perhaps, but not in truth. I am Coruscanti...Imperial," he said, more as an addendum at the last, because even he couldn't bring himself to such a baldfaced lie as to say 'I am Imperial'. "If you find you recognize my father's people in me, I assure you it is completely by accident."
"Is it indeed?" Thrawn mused. "After all, it is a sadly common state of affairs that a warrior becomes that which he hates most in his quest to destroy it."
Kallus winced as he looked away from the grand admiral, the response nothing but truth. Perhaps he had risked too much of that today. "That I know all too well, Sir. If there is nothing further-"
"One further item, actually," Thrawn interrupted him. "You will find my notes on the case in your files, but I was curious to know your thoughts on one of my recent investigations. A rebel operative with the codename Fulcrum."
The double agent felt his stomach turn and his heart drop, even felt his legs turn to jelly. Even so, to his eternal credit, the only response he gave was a slight widening of the eyes.
"Has it come up again? I was under the impression the case had been closed."
"You are familiar with the name, then?" Thrawn asked, his expression neutral.
"Yes. I had been tracking the name for some time. This would've been...roughly a year ago," he recounted, taking a moment to calm his racing heart and to think. "I had linked the codename to a series of failed missions involving the Inquisitorius. Following the trails of espionage and sabotage, I came to the conclusion this rebel agent was the former Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano. But that trail went cold after the near total destruction of the Inquisitorius on Malachor," he offered up, Thrawn's nod of understanding telling him he didn't need to elaborate on why any of that was. It pained him to give out information on his mentor like this, but in the brief time they'd worked together, Ahsoka had warned him to be prepared to do so. Being quick to explain a Fulcrum connection just might save his life. "Was it wrong of me to assume? Has the agent continued to be active?"
"I don't believe you were wrong to assume, no. Likely this Ahsoka Tano was the agent Fulcrum when she was alive. If anything, the title is inherited. It would seem a new Fulcrum has risen from the ashes of the old. Unfortunately, you will find my own leads on the subject to be part rumor, part speculation, very little fact. I have traced the codename only briefly. Each time I come close to pinning it down, it vanishes."
"I will look into some of my old contacts then. Perhaps returning to square one will yield us some results."
"Do. I shall bring Colonel Yularen in on the investigation. A little more weight from ISB may be of use as well. Will you continue to run operations from the Lawbringer?"
"No. It has become a bit too recognizable as my command vessel to the scum and rebels of the Lothal Sector. We will be taking up operations aboard the light cruiser Veritas. I've found I somewhat miss the anonymity of more covert work."
"Sound reasoning. Inform me when you've had a chance to look over the case file. I would like your thoughts on the matter."
"Of course," Kallus said, struggling not to breathe a sigh of relief at this latest narrow brush.
"And now," Thrawn continued when the datapad on his desk sounded a notification, leading him to go and check it, "I believe your shuttle has arrived. Had best not keep them waiting. I will look to hear from you before too long."
"Certainly, Grand Admiral," he said, inclining his head to the Chiss before beating a seemingly calm retreat from the office.
Get out. Get out now!
The voice that sounded suspiciously like Zeb's streamed through his mind in a loop as he moved through the corridors of the Star Destroyer. Outwardly, he was unfailingly taciturn, ever the icy and composed Imperial enforcer. Inward was another matter. Inwardly, he was screaming, fighting to keep himself moving under his own power while the only thing his body wanted to do was shut down completely.
Get out. Get out! Get out! Escape while you still can. Go home. Home to Zeb and Lia.
But...he doesn't have much. He said it himself. Maybe doesn't even know Fulcrum is within the Empire itself.
The fact that he has the name Fulcrum at all is bad. It's Thrawn. The rest will come to him. Whether it be tonight or half a month from now, he will have what he seeks. All it will take is one stroke of inspired intuition and there will be no more Alexsandr Kallus.
Calm down! he ultimately snapped at himself, drawing in several deep breaths to steady his racing thoughts and his pounding heart. All in a few minutes, his week of rest and recovery had been almost completely undone, leaving him just as stressed and exhausted as he'd been before Manaan. But perhaps that was how he operated best (a debate for the philosophers as to whether that was healthy or not), because the rational thoughts soon began to move in to replace the worry and fear.
There was no sense in acting hastily. He had time to figure the situation out, surely. He would proceed with caution, as he always had, and if the evidence suggested it was finally time for him to cut his losses and flee, he would do so. But if it did not...perhaps Fulcrum might yet continue to serve the Rebellion.
His cycle of sheer terror and faltering calm had managed to carry him to the turbolift down to the hangar bay. He almost didn't notice that company had joined him about a quarter of the way down and probably would've continued to be ignorant of the fact had Konstanine's pinched voice not suddenly wormed its way into his thoughts.
"Still alive, are we?" the admiral asked him, harried and in a rush as always. "Rumor had placed you solidly at death's door, Agent Kallus."
"Proving once again that one would do better to treat the old hag as little more than wind in the void," Kallus pointed out. "It will take more than a Lasat's lucky strike to end me, Admiral."
"We will see, now won't we."
"We will indeed," he returned with a mild smirk, finding himself wondering what sort of sour look might twist the man's features if he were to ever learn that it was his own cold response that had helped start Kallus along the path he was on now. "And yourself? Particular business aboard the Chimaera today?"
"Merely formalizing my intent to move against some rebel convoy."
"Oh?" Kallus started in, as if this were only mildly interesting to him. "It seems you have been busy in my absence."
Konstantine sniffed in annoyance. "Whether or not you believe it, the Imperial Navy does in fact function without you. My scouts have been tracking the movements of a group active in Mon Calamari space."
Mon Cala? That was where Dodonna's fleet had been recruiting and making raids recently in preparation for the attack on Lothal. So it was the Massassi Group Konstantine was tracking, not Phoenix Cell. There was at least that tiny bit of relief then. But if Konstantine had more specifics, he just might be able to warn them before it was too late.
"We've reason to believe the traitor Dodonna is at the head of this particular band of rabble rousers. If we can bring him in, it will be a great victory for us. I know where they're going to be and I'm going to catch them unaware," he said with a pleased sneer.
"Impressive. It will be even more impressive if you actually manage to take Dodonna alive. When will this sting be taking place?" he pressed casually.
"One cycle from this, when the scum makes his next jump through the system. He'll find more than just supplies waiting for him."
"Should be quite a rout then, one for the history keepers. Good luck, Admiral," Kallus said as the lift arrived at its destination.
"Thank you. I won't require it," the admiral replied as they exited, each going their separate way.
Kallus saw Lieutenant Lyste waiting at the bottom of the loading ramp of the Lambda shuttle that had come for him, an eager, almost pleased look in his eyes. As the ISB agent approached, the younger officer snapped him a salute.
"Welcome aboard, Agent Kallus. Good to see you alive, Sir."
"Good to be alive, Lieutenant," he returned with a nod and an approving look. "If we've no further business, we should be off at once. There is much to do."
XxX
"Accept override code...Ashkerra san karu. Transmit."
"Receiving. Awaiting instruction."
"This is Fulcrum with an urgent message. Admiral Konstantine of the Lothal Sector fleet knows of your jump location and plans to intercept your task force. If the run cannot be avoided, I would advise changing the drop point. The rebellion cannot lose the Massassi Group at this time."
"Acknowledged. Arrangements will be made."
"Fulcrum out."
XxX
Whenever Hera needed to make a run of any kind with the Ghost crew, it tended to fall to Wedge to go on running drills for the base's pilots in her stead. And while he was happy to do it and eager to gain the leadership experience it afforded him, that didn't mean it was any less exhausting. So when the A-wings and assorted other fighters limped back to Chopper Base after a long day of training, the young rebel was very much looking forward to crawling into his cot and being dead to the world for at least a few hours. Unfortunately, when he saw Jidu leading Lirian toward him across the landing field, he knew instantly it wasn't going to be happening.
"What's wrong?" he asked the two approaching women as he hopped down from his fighter.
"You know that Orianne cleared Zel to fill in for her for the births in the camp, yes?" the Lasat asked him.
"Yeah. I know she's been doing really well with it, too. She loves being with you guys. So what is it?"
"Zamare had her baby an hour ago. The boy lived. He's fine, but...Zamare did not survive. Her fever became worse and...there was really nothing Zel could do for her."
"Oh, hells," Wedge muttered, more to himself, because he knew exactly how Zelina would have taken it. To her, this would've been a personal failure – her fault that someone in her care had died.
"She wouldn't hear me when I tried to speak to her. Now she's disappeared. I won't be much use in looking for her, but Jidu said you might know where she's gone."
"Yeah, I've got an idea. I'll bring her back," he assured them before climbing back into his A-wing, his helmet remaining in his lap as he powered back up.
XxX
She had seen death before.
She was Mandalorian. Death defined her in a way it didn't for many other beings. Whatever ideology one subscribed to, death and battle were inextricably bound up in their cultural identity.
But more than this, her father before her had been a medic, operating an illegal medical runner in the Outer Rim during the Clone Wars in defiance of the Mandalorian stance of neutrality. In line with the stance, though, Sariel Arsane had freely given medical aid to anyone who needed it, believing that lines on a battlefield should never be a stop to a person's ability to heal others.
Even though Zelina herself had been born after the wars ended, she'd still grown up aboard that ship, the Surgeon's Opinion. She had witnessed her father's attempts to stop the bleeding in an increasingly violent galaxy, and like every doctor before him, he could not save everyone.
It was nothing new to Zelina Arsane to see the light leave another being's eyes. She had cried for those beings, cried for her father, but tonight was the night she understood him far better than a thousand night cycle conversations could've ever afforded her. Tonight she had felt the heartbeat still beneath her own hands and asked herself for the first time...
Is this my fault? Was there something I could have done? If I were a better medic, would you still be alive right now?
Her mind had been stuck in a loop ever since Zamare had breathed her last. Over and over, she went through her actions, trying to find something she could've done differently. Each time she came up empty. Somewhere in that endless loop, she was aware of the sound of a fighter overhead, but she was less aware of the fact that fighter had landed nearby. New input didn't penetrate her closed circuit of thought until she suddenly found Wedge's gentle brown eyes staring into hers.
"You really gotta stop coming out here like this, y'know," he said to her when he was certain she was actually seeing him. "The sensors don't always work. One of these nights, a krykna's going to wander up and bite your head off and none of us would ever know it."
"Which isn't necessarily a bad thing," she grumbled, angrily swiping the tear tracks from her face as she looked away from him. "What use does anybody have for a medic who can't save people?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach out to touch her, but then seem to think better of it, resting his hand instead on the rock surface between them.
"Come on, Zel, you can't- you can't be this hard on yourself. Even the Jedi aren't miracle workers. There wasn't anything you could've done."
"Do you know that, though?!" she demanded as she jerked back to face him, braids coming loose with every harsh movement. "Maybe there was something! I'm just not a good enough healer to know it!"
Wedge bit his lip, staring at her in silence for several moments before responding. "I'm gonna go ahead and point out here that you're only sixteen. So yes, there're probably things you don't know, but you also grew up eat, sleep, and breathing this stuff. You're already klicks above any core brat who bought their way into a fancy school on Coruscant. Orianne wouldn't have trusted you with the job if she didn't think you could handle it. I think you know that."
Zel shook her head, not meeting his eyes when she spoke. "She would've been able to save Zamare."
The pilot did touch her this time, lifting her face by the chin so he could look her in the eye. "No, she wouldn't. She barely kept Alreitha alive from what I've heard. You did your best for Zamare, but...sometimes these things happen."
"Did my best?" she ground out bitterly as she jerked free of his hold. "What does that even mean? All I see is that my best wasn't good enough."
Sighing, Wedge shifted to sit down beside her. "Zel...why do you do this?"
"Do what?"
"Choose to be a healer? You're like most of us. The Empire's hurt you in some way. They took your parents from you. You've got every reason in the galaxy to use the skills you have to take life away, but you choose not to. I'm asking you why."
Zelina thought about it a long while before answering. It wasn't something she'd ever given much thought to. The simple answer was that her father had been a medic and she wanted to honor his memory, but that wasn't really the reason why. She thought back through the years, back through each person she and her father had helped and, gradually, a picture began to form.
"I don't do it for reward or for thanks," she started softly. "I just...I've seen so much pain in the galaxy. If something I can do can take away even a little bit of that suffering...then that's always been worth my own pain."
"There she is," Wedge said with a grin, bumping his shoulder against hers. "That's the girl who saved Zeb's life and helped people she had no business helping. You'll save more people; don't doubt it. But you won't save everyone. That's just not possible."
Though a smile moved slowly across the young Mandalorian's face, she also felt fresh tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. Not only from sadness, though there was still plenty of that, but because she suddenly felt at home, and she hadn't felt that in months...not since she'd lost Trek.
"Did- did I say something wrong?" Wedge asked awkwardly, apparently mistaking her tears for a failure on his part. Zel shook her head before resting it against his shoulder.
"No," she whispered through her sniffles. "I just- I haven't- felt like- like I belonged anywhere...not since Trek died. You and Ji and Rex and- everyone...everyone's been so wonderful. I guess I was just- being too much of an idiot to see it."
"Hey, no thing. We all have those idiot moments, or months, I guess," he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her and just letting her cry it all out. There was little denying it felt good to just cry, whatever mix of joy and sorrow was in those tears. She couldn't say how long they sat like that beneath the light of Atollon's moon before she heard Wedge suggest, "We should probably be heading back soon."
"Right," she agreed, shaking herself as she sat up. "I guess I've got a bit more ground to cover than you do."
"Hey, no," he argued as he got to his feet. "There's no way I'm gonna just let you walk back alone. Not this late at night."
"But you can't leave your A-wing here," she pointed out, staring suspiciously up at him.
"Wasn't planning to do that, either."
For a moment, her gaze darted between him and the fighter parked beyond the stone spires. "You're not serious. There's no way we'll both fit in that cockpit."
"It'll be a tight fit, I admit. But I think we can do it," he said, offering her a hand to help her up. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow for several moments before finally accepting the offered hand. "I'll just take it slow, and I promise not to pick any fights with clouds on the way back," he reassured her as they made their way down to the A-wing.
"Right," she said with a nervous chuckle. They were both well aware of the fact that the small fighter wasn't exactly known for traveling at slow speeds.
"Look on the bright side. If we crash, we won't need to call for the medics," he teased as he opened up the cockpit's canopy, hopping right in to get himself settled first.
Zel offered her friend a peeved look as she climbed up after him. "I'm not really sure if that's more insulting to you or to me."
"Eh. Don't strain your brain too much over the riddle. Climb in."
"So...what?" she tried to clarify as she surveyed the distinct lack of room in the little space. "I'm just supposed to sit on top of you?"
"That's the idea. You sit on top and I'll strap us both in."
"Stars, but you might actually be crazy, Antilles," she told him, even though she didn't hesitate to clamber into the cockpit, settling herself carefully on his lap and letting her legs slide down next to his in the small space.
"Time'll tell," he conceded as he pulled the restraints over both their heads, passing them to her to secure. Before lowering the A-wing's canopy, he settled his helmet on her head. "Just...try not to move too much," he told her as he reached around her to operate the controls.
The young medic gave an even higher nervous laugh at that one. "If we die...I'm going to kill you."
"Fair. I don't doubt you could," he said as the small craft lifted up on its repulsors. In little more than a heartbeat, they were off.
It took Zel's breath a few minutes to catch up with them as they zoomed through the night. At first, she was very aware of just how stiffly she was holding herself, trying not to move in order to make the flying part easier for Wedge. But as they went, she found herself starting to loosen up, feeling the thrum of the A-wing's engines in her bones and the warmth of her friend's body so close against hers. Briefly, the thought drew a flush to her face, but it didn't stick around for long. Something about the whole situation just felt nice – felt right.
After a time, she felt certain they should have already reached the base, but if Wedge was taking a more circuitous route to get there, she certainly wasn't going to complain. It was horribly crowded in the little fighter but, at the same time, something in her didn't want the ride to be over. Looking through the visor of Wedge's helmet and up through the A-wing's canopy, she could see the stars wheeling by overhead and her breath caught at the sheer beauty of them.
"It's amazing...isn't it," she heard Wedge's voice close to her ear, nearly missing it among the other noises from the fighter.
"Amazing," she echoed, resisting the urge to remove the helmet to have a better look. That motion would almost certainly be too distracting for the pilot.
Sadly, though, they couldn't go on wasting the Rebellion's precious fuel, so they did have to return to base eventually. For several moments after Wedge had landed, they both just sat still in the cockpit, the only sound the noise from the A-wing as it powered down. Zelina didn't want to leave, but she didn't really know how to articulate that desire. The stillness between them was broken when Wedge reached to undo the restraints, allowing Zel to twist on his lap to look back at him.
He was looking at her with an almost confused smile on his face. She didn't say anything when he reached forward and lifted his helmet off her head. They just stared at each other, smiling helplessly, neither sure of what to say, what was even right to say.
The moment was over all too quickly, though, when Zelina bumped against the release for the canopy, allowing the rest of the galaxy back into the space around them.
"Thank you," Zel said softly as she looked away from him. "Not just for the ride back, but...for everything."
"Anytime."
"Hey! Anybody awake in there?" Ezra's voice suddenly called up to the cockpit. Almost as one, they jerked up, but all they really succeeded in doing was knocking their heads together. Collapsing back to the seat together, it took them several minutes to disentangle from one another. Zelina managed to emerge first.
"Hey, Ezra. When did you guys get back?"
Ezra's eyes widened briefly at seeing her emerge from the cockpit instead of Wedge, but he recovered quickly. "About an hour ago. But we've got a problem. We just heard from General Dodonna's fleet. It looks like their runners were ambushed by the Chimaera."
XxX
"No! No way!"
"Captain Orrelios, I understand that your feelings on this matter may well be emotionally compromised, but it is somewhat difficult to ignore the facts in this case."
Zeb felt rage boiling up in his blood with every word Sato spoke. He was so angry he was just about seeing red. On a level of logic, he could understand Command's concerns over the situation, but his love for Alex was not rational. His faith in him went beyond reason. No force in the galaxy could turn him from Alexsandr Kallus. So to hear Sato accuse him of a betrayal of this magnitude...it was enough to make him want to crack the man's skull open. Instead, he settled for growling at him.
"If you've got somethin' to say about Fulcrum, you and I just might have a problem, Commander," he ground out, subtly baring his fangs at the human.
"We know what the situation looks like," he heard Kanan saying as his friend placed a hand on his arm, fighting to calm the atmosphere of tension in the command center. "But Kallus is one of us. Each one of the Spectres will vouch for him personally, along with plenty of others on this base who are alive today because of him."
"I do not deny the man has done good work," Sato returned. "But any double agent would have to. Practically gift-wrapping one of our cells for the grand admiral hardly seems like it would benefit the Rebellion in any way. The only remaining explanation is that this was Agent Kallus' plan all along."
"That's just not true," Hera tried to step in.
"Believe me, Captain Syndulla, no one would like to believe in this young defector more than I would," the holographic image of Jan Dodonna responded to the outburst with a pained, saddened look. "But if there is logic in his move here, I have been unable to fathom it."
"Please, we're very close to true stupidity here," Hera scolded, looking around at everyone in the center with reproach in her eyes. "General, can you tell us again, exactly what it was that happened?"
"Fulcrum had informed us that the Lothal Sector fleet had become aware of our jump coordinates in Mon Calamari space. His first suggestion had been to skip the planned drop altogether but, failing that, the next best option was to change the drop point, which we did."
"And did Fulcrum actually suggest a new location to you?" Hera pressed.
"No, he did not," Dodonna conceded. "Merely suggested that a change be made. We selected a backup drop point, but when my boys made the jump to coordinates, the Chimaera was lying in wait. Nearly a third of the task force was lost in the escape."
"Heh, well, I'm already starting to see some holes in your betrayal theory," Kanan tried to joke. "If Kallus didn't know what your location was going to be, how could he have possibly given you up to Thrawn?"
"Then how did Thrawn know where we would be?" the general asked.
"That's just what Thrawn does," Hera explained. "He's that good a tactician. If he knows even one-tenth of your previous movements or anything at all about your preferred strategies, he'll beat you to the punch and be there waiting with some tea and an interrogation chair when he knocks you out. I wouldn't put it past him to figure out exactly where your backup drop point was."
"Maybe this whole thing really was a setup?" Kanan suddenly mused. "Just not for us."
"For who, then?" Sato asked.
"For Kallus. This could all be happening because they've tapped into his Fulcrum frequency."
"Karabast," Zeb snarled in quiet horror. "Thrawn could be closin' in on him and he'd never know it. We've gotta get him outta there. He'd do the same for any of us."
"What is it you're suggesting we do, exactly?" Sato asked. "Raid an Imperial Star Destroyer?"
"No, of course not. We would infiltrate," Hera said matter-of-factly as she moved to the holoprojector, calling up a display of Alex's latest command.
"He's moved operations to the light cruiser Veritas," Zeb explained. "Security's a lot less tight than on your average Star Destroyer. We had clearance codes for the Lawbringer, but he also passed us the codes for the Veritas when he made the transfer." And though he knew it was the best option, he was already disappointed with the plan because he knew infiltration automatically left him out as a candidate to be at the front. It wasn't that he didn't trust his friends to rescue his Tinsana. He just would've preferred to be a part of it himself.
"Any way we can give him the head's up?" Wedge asked. "Speaking from experience, it's not much fun to be working in the dark on these things."
"Unfortunately, no," Kanan put in. "If they've tapped him in any way, warning him would tip them off we're coming. This is gonna have to be a flyby and it's gonna have to be soon. Like now soon."
"Actually," Ezra started in, "I might have an idea."
XxX
(A/N) All righty. Ready for a little 'Through Imperial Eyes'? Next time, my friends, next time. Also, did I just translate Shakespeare into Star Wars like a proper hardcore nerd? Did I? Why yes. Yes, I did. Only other thing I have for you before I go is a few translations.
San syv arrin avashty? - Is this line secure? (little shoutout to everybody's longtime favorite Kalluzeb fic)
Sanin an? - Is it you?
An rokirin san. Mal san syv arrin avashty? - You know it is. No is this line secure?