Notes: Written for Whumptober 2022 and the prompt "Caught in the Storm".


Loyalty in the Storm

It should have been a simple mission conducted on intel provided by a verified source. And the source had been verified. Kallus had staked his life on it and the lives of everyone that had been assigned for the mission.

And he'd been wrong.

The supposedly lightly guarded depot had at least three times as many stormtroopers as the intel they had received had indicated and they had been better armed. The rebels never even made it to their goal - if it was there at all - and many hadn't made it out. Kallus wouldn't have either if Zeb hadn't hauled him out by the collar of his jacket after he'd been thrown hard enough into the wall by a blast that it had knocked both the wind and the wherewithal out of him. Now they were holed up in what he hoped was a secured safehouse - not linked to his informant, thankfully - with a handful of survivors and waiting for their transport out of there. Their ship they'd arrived on getting blown to pieces had just been one more thing in a day that had already been an abject failure.

Everything hurt, but he didn't feel like he had the right to find a corner to curl up in with most of the survivors being in worse shape than he was. It seemed like the only one that had gotten out without a scratch was their resident Jedi-in-training, and Ezra had been so full of nervous energy as they waited on Hera to pick them up that Zeb had sent him out on a supply run. At least the kid wouldn't draw much attention.

"How's the head?"

Kallus glanced up from where he'd been absently counting their remaining power packs and playing the mission's events over and over again in his mind. "It's been worse," he muttered. "How's the arm?"

Zeb stretched his left arm out, inspecting the sloppy stitches and purple fur matted with blood. "Had worse," he agreed and grimaced as he flexed his fingers. "I'll feel better when we get off this rock n' back to Yavin."

The former ISB agent hummed softly, the sound noncommittal and Zeb leaned back against the wall from his seat on the floor across from him and his pile of supplies that he still hadn't done a real inventory on yet.

"It's not your fault. You know that, right?" Zeb asked softly.

The kind words felt like salt in an open wound and Kallus bristled at them. "So whose fault is it then? This was my mission, my source, my intel. If not my fault, then whose?"

The sharp reply seemed to startle the Lasat who was clearly just trying to provide some comfort on a truly horrific day. Kallus squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm just…"

"Not used to carin' 'bout the the soldiers you lose?"

"After Atallon, we don't have any more soldiers to lose," Kallus answered with less bite this time. Another devastating event he was at least partially responsible for.

Zeb twisted around, yellow-green eyes scanning the space. "The kid ever make it back?"

"No, and he's been gone too long." Kallus stood stiffly. "I'll go find him. Do you mind finishing up here?"

He received a mumbled reply and started for the door, hoping the fresh air would help him clear his head.

The marketplace was relatively busy, but not so much so that Ezra should have taken as long as he had. It took Kallus a couple of loops through it to finally spot the young Jedi tucked off the path and chatting with a figure there. The man was tall, with dark hair and a posture that Kallus couldn't immediately assign to one of their MIA soldiers that hadn't made it out with the rest of them and hadn't been confirmed dead. But the teen's expression seemed easy enough that Kallus wasn't quite ready to jump into action. Instead, he slowed his gait, hovering near a Meiloorun stand.

Discretion went out the window when Ezra spotted him, his expression surprised before it eased into excitement and he waved Kallus over. What the blazes was happening? Maybe Kallus had hit his head harder than he had thought.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late. I got caught talking."

Several questions around who and why all died on his throat as the man turned to fully face Kallus and he recognized him. Not because he was one of theirs that had made his way out and found cover apart from the rest of the team, but because Kallus had seen his file. He'd listened to his broadcasts, both before and after leaving the Empire. "Vic Antoinne," Kallus greeted. "Former Imperial HoloNet news correspondent turned independent, isn't that what you call it?"

"I do," Antoinne chuckled. "Got tired of spreading the Empire's propaganda. Now I chase down the truth, no matter where it leads. I'd say that's as independent as you get."

Kallus' gaze flickered to Ezra. "We need to go."

The teen's blue gaze widened a little and a quick glance to the side showed stormtroopers making their way in their general direction. They hadn't been spotted, but their escape path was quickly becoming compromised.

"We should get out of the open. They see any of us and we're in trouble," Antoinne said as he ducked back behind a vendor and out of sight.

Ezra started to follow, but stopped when he realized Kallus hadn't budged. "C'mon. He's on our side."

"Not necessarily," the older man muttered, but they had limited options at the moment. One more glance back towards the approaching unit and he followed the teen and the journalist.

The passageway led to a hall which then led to a back entrance to a dank little tapcaf that Kallus thought must have emptied out on the opposite street. If they needed a quick exit, they could find one in the way that they'd entered as well as one in the front. If things got very bad, he also saw a window that peered out into the side street from the loft seating upstairs.

Antoinne motioned at the woman behind the counter, three fingers in the air, and led them to a table in the corner. He took the seat with his back to the wall before Kallus could snag it and flashed a knowing grin. "You're safe here. The owner pays a hefty fee and the Empire leaves her alone to conduct business as she sees fit. Stormtroopers won't step foot in here. Even after the stir you caused."

There it was. He'd heard about the failed attempt at the depot. He was after a story. The question was if he'd tailed Ezra already knowing who he was or if Ezra had been so starstruck he'd said too much. Kallus had heard the teen go on about him before.

"Imagine my surprise," Antoinne continued, "when I was out at the market and spotted Ezra Bridger, the voice of hope in the galaxy." He turned to look at the kid as he flushed a little. "I heard your broadcast from Lothal a few years ago."

"Really?"

"It was inspirational."

Kallus felt nauseous, and he didn't think it had anything to do with his concussion. "While we appreciate the… assistance in the market, we really should be going."

The waitress set three cups of caf down for them. Antoinne tilted his head, gaze focused on Kallus. "You don't trust me."

"To be fair, he doesn't trust many people," Ezra offered.

Kallus got to his feet. "Let's go, Ezra." They didn't have time for this. As it stood, it'd take them hours to get back to the safehouse with all of the doubling back they'd have to do to make sure the journalists didn't find where they were staying.

"I swear I'm only interested in the truth. With you, it has to be a fascinating one."

"You know nothing about me," Kallus snapped. Ezra had reluctantly got to his feet and he was just shy of getting him out. They needed to go.

"Don't I?" Antoinne called. "Alexsandr Kallus, born and raised in Coruscant. Your father served and died in the Clone Wars. You enlisted in the Academy after your mother's death just shy of a year later. Top of your class, fast tracked to special units, and you were assigned to the Imperial Security Bureau. Not a data pusher. An investigator. An enforcer."

He should have kept walking, but Kallus felt like his boots were stuck to the floor of the cafe, eyes and attention turned on him as Antoinne laid his past out to bare.

"You lost your first unit on Onderon against Saw Gerrera, but really made a name for yourself in the battle on Lasan where you gave the order to use Ion Disruptor Rifles on the people of that world."

Kallus flinched at that.

"But it wasn't your last uprising. You continued to add to the body count. Eshan, Rokirex, Verroth, and, of course, Tarkin Village on Lothal."

"Tarkintown," Ezra corrected, his voice carefully controlled.

"Ah. Thank you." He pulled a tiny datapad out and jotted his note before turning his laser focus back on Kallus. "And then, somewhere between Lothal and Atallon, you defected, joining the Rebels wherever they may be these days." Antoinne moved with quiet steps and positioned himself between Kallus and the door with a smug look plastered across his features. "I do know you, Agent Kallus. I know enough about you to make for a very intriguing story, but I do have one lingering question, if you'll be so kind?"

The ginger man raised his gaze, meeting the other's steely grey. He felt raw. Exposed. Like he'd been caught up in a storm and thrown around, wind and debris ripping at him and slamming into him only to hit the eye of that storm and be dropped unceremoniously to the unyielding ground and left to wait for the violent and inevitable second wave.

"Did you actually defect or are you just using the Rebel's goodwill and trust to let you botch missions like you did at the depot?"

Everything inside Kallus wanted to rush the man and take a swing at that clever mouth of his, but that was exactly what he wanted. He pulled in a steadying breath, but it was Ezra that turned on Antoinne. "Listen, Kallus did terrible things for the Empire. I mean, really horrible things—" Thanks for that, the former agent thought sarcastically — "but he's changed. He risked his life to get us information for over a year that helped keep the Rebellion alive. He—"

The quick turn from all of his sins to what sounded like earned respect from the young Jedi was jarring, but certainly not unwelcome. Kallus was still learning just how deep his new allies' loyalty took root, but lingering on that now wouldn't do them a bit of good if the stormtroopers caught them or Antoinne gained enough for his story and spoke it out to the galaxy before they could get off planet, effectively shining a spotlight on them. He tucked the thought away and Kallus reached a hand out for the teen's shoulder. "Thank you, Ezra."

Thankfully, he got the hint and turned to move past Antoinne and through the door with him, grumbling all the way, even as Kallus kept an eye out for both what he imagined was a particularly determined journalist and for stormtroopers. Mid-grumble, Ezra stopped. "I thought he was on our side… He gives so many people hope in the galaxy with stories he's been sharing and has helped us recruit more people, but—"

"He's not not on our side," Kallus murmured with a huff. "I imagine he leans quite a bit more in our direction than the Empire's, but he is after a story." He turned them down a busy street, moving around people and against the traffic. "And he isn't the only one that will ask that question."

"No one that matters," Ezra said firmly. "We all know what you gave up to switch sides. You're not alone anymore."

"I know. And I'm grateful."

Ezra flashed him a grin. "You never told me your dad fought in the Clone Wars. Did he fight with the Jedi? Did he tell you any stories? Kanan won't tell me much about what it was like before the Empire."

Kallus spent the next couple of hours that they double, tripled, and quadrupled back so they wouldn't be followed telling Ezra Bridger if all people about a man he hadn't spoken about in years. A ranking officer for the Old Republic and his inspiration for joining the Academy.

"I think he'd be proud of you," the teen said as they slipped into the safehouse to find a very worried looking Garazeb looking like he was just moments away from walking out the front door.

"Where the blazes have you two been? Thought you'd passed out of somethin' when you went to look for the kid."

"Nothing so dramatic," Kallus promised. "Just handling a potential issue. Everything's fine now."

"Just in time for Hera to pick us up. Help me get the gear loaded?"

Ezra jumped to help and Kallus stood back for a fraction of a moment longer, surveying the ragtag group of survivors. His heart ached for those they'd lost - a feeling he was still getting used to - but he was all in with them, and that meant he would do everything in his power to learn from this and make sure he never repeated the mistake again. They could win this. They had to win this. Because if they could hold on long enough, every storm ended, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, he found himself hoping for calmer skies that would come after a hard-fought peace.