Zeb watched the cadets march, his eyes catching on any and every mistake. And there were quite a few.
The boy in front stumbled slightly, making the line behind him stall. Another cadet's uniform was covered in what looked to be her breakfast, a long, red strain stretching down from the collar. Others were panting so hard, they sounded as if they'd pass out. Three in the back were carrying their weapons far too low, nearly dropping the practice bo-rifles on the ground.
But what made Zeb finally stop the march was the fact all of them were slouching. They switched formation and all turned to face him, their posture never changing. Zeb paced in front of them, his eyes burning into each of theirs. No one made eye contact.
"Look at ya lousy slobs." Zeb hissed at them, watching a cadet in the front flinch away. He stopped. "You're training for the Honor Guard. To be protectors of the Royal Family, of Lasan! When you wear this badge," Zeb touched the metal on his chest proudly, "you'll have more to protect than yourselves. You'll represent our people!"
Someone threw up in the back. Zeb closed his eyes slowly, shaking his head. They just didn't get it.
But what Zeb really struggled with was explaining this to them. He understood it. Of course, he did! He'd gone through this same training, got shouted at, and lectured until his back was frozen straight. He'd had the honor of learning from the best of the best, one of the High Guards that protected the Royal Hails themselves. How was Zeb supposed to replicate that?
"Straighten up and start again." Zeb turned away as the cadets went back to it, no more motivated than before.
"Squad Leader Orrelios!" A voice called, making him nearly jump in surprise. He turned to see Captain Keniadd marching toward him, the High Guard sash over his shoulders in a bright yellow color. It showed his rank, better than any metal possibly could. People felt protected when they saw those sashes, no matter their color. Any Lasat given the honor of wearing one held it with pride, as Zeb someday hoped he would too.
But how would he tell all of that to his stupid cadets?!
"Captain." Zeb raised his hands in respectful greeting, his ears flattening against his head. Then, before he could ask what the interruption was about, he spotted the group behind in. "What in the..."
They weren't Lasats, any of them. He recognized most as human, a common species all across the galaxy; though, less in Lasan. No one really visited the planet, due to its refusal to trade with either the Republic or Separatists.
The only non-human was...strange. Unfamiliar, yet more human-like than a Lasat. She had a headdress of blue, and white markings across her orange skin. Very strange.
"Uh...Captain?" Zeb looked to the other Lasat, at a loss. Once the group had stopped just in front of them, one of the humans -a boy with short, blue hair and bright eyes- gaped openly at him.
Zeb could hear the cadets start to shuffle behind him and he shot them a quick look of disapproval. It did little to dissuade them.
Captain Keniadd moved to stand beside Zeb as he introduced the group in basic. "These people come from the Galactic Republic. Jedi, if I can recall?" That blue-haired boy nodded again, his expression falling into a peaceful neutral. "They wish to speak privately with you."
"Me?!" Zeb's gaze bounced between the group and the Captain. What could they possibly want with him? How did they even know him?
"I will take your cadets in the meantime." Captain Keniadd said, already turning his attention to the kids. But before he started, the Captain paused. "Oh, and the Royal Hails would like to speak to them. As soon as possible."
Zeb didn't get the chance to react before Captain Keniadd started barking orders at his cadets. With nothing left to do, Zeb took another look at the group, then headed for the palace. The silence didn't stretch past the first hall.
"So, you're Zeb, right?" The boy from before stepped into view. Zeb took a moment to fully observe him: light footsteps, two burn scars on his cheek, the faint smell of blaster fuel, an accent that suggested he lived in the Outer Rim, and he knew about Zeb's nickname. The last point was the most concerning. "
The boy continued. "I'm Ezra Bridger. This is Ahsoka and Rex-"
Zeb let out a low growl. "Save your introductions for the Hails." He doubted they'd be on Lasan after that. If the Republic wanted to pull them into their war, then they had no idea who they were dealing with. They had stayed far away from either organization for this exact reason.
And the sooner these off-worlders went right back to where they came from, the better.
Silence stretched between them for another few minutes. This time, the strange woman named Ahsoka spoke, but not to him. "Master Billaba, would you prefer to do the negotiations?" Ahsoka asked, her voice smooth. Almost unnaturally so.
"No, Miss Tano." The other woman replied, her voice just as smooth. "This is your mission. We will follow you and Ezra."
No one spoke again as they stepped into the Room of the Ancients. The seven Royal Hails all stared down from their pedestals, seeming to be expecting them. Zeb felt the hairs across his body stand on point, their eyes all locked onto him as he led the strangers forward. He had only ever been in this room twice, and both times the attention was always on someone else. But now, he would be in charge of actually speaking to them.
Swallowing thickly, Zeb knelt in a deep bow, his ears flattened once again. "Rise, Squad Leader Orrelios." He did so immediately. "Now, state your business, Jedi."
To his surprise, Ezra moved forward without fear. It made Zeb feel nauseous, worrying what he might say. This could go very, very wrong, Zeb realized much too late.
"Your Royal Highnesses," Ezra started, his voice loud and clear, "my name is Ezra Bridger. We've been sent here to-"
"Introduce each of yourselves properly." The Hails ordered.
Zeb watched closely as Ezra paused, then frowned. The kid looked irritated and Zeb almost shot out to slap a hand over his mouth, but Ahsoka stepped forward, taking charge. "I am Ahsoka Tano, and this is Jedi Master Depa Billaba and her padawan, Caleb Dume. Our clone is Captain Rex, of the 501st."
They gave the Hails time to think on this, then Ezra spoke again. "We've come with a request of you, Your Highnesses. You see, we've been sent here by the Ashla." The Hails immediately started speaking among themselves, the noise rising until Ezra grew impatient. "We'd like to take Ze -uh- Squad Leader Orrelios with us. As a part of our team."
All noise stopped. Zeb stared at the boy, his mouth open wide. There was no way. How...what? Why? Why him, of all people? He was strong, and a good warrior, but not the best by any means. If they needed someone, they should've asked for Captain Keniadd or General Vezonn. Zeb fought the urge to pull at his ears or claw at his growing beard.
Karabast! Karabast!
The Hails called for someone and the room went quiet. Every time Ezra tried to speak again, they told him to wait. So, for a solid ten minutes, they waited. In silence. Just...stood there.
Zeb felt the need to pace. To do something with himself. Oh, how he regretted this. If only he could go back and never come back to this room. He'd gratefully return to the cadets and leave someone else with this mess. Anyone but him!
And of course, the person they called for was Chava, the Foreseer. A glorified crazy, if you asked Zeb, but one protected by the Hails. She took her sweet time walking into the room beside her escorts as if she had nothing better to do.
"These people say the Ashla sent them. What do you have to say of it, Foreseer Chava?"
Chava took small, tapping steps as she waddled forward, looking Ezra up and down. Then, she went to the others, finally stopping in front of Padawan Dume, the young boy's eyes bewildered as Chava smiled down at him. "Ah, yes. Sent! From our future. You've been sent to us."
Now, Zeb officially knew she was crazy.
Padawan Dume leaned away slightly. "I didn't come from the future." His long braid swung as he turned to stare up at his Jedi master. "We're from this time. Ezra and Ahsoka are the ones sent by the force."
Chava waddled over to Ezra. "Hm. You seem to know me, don't you? You've met me, in the future."
"Um...yeah. I did." Ezra nodded hesitantly. "You can feel the Ashla, right? Like I can feel the force."
Her eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! The force, as you Jedi call it. The thing that binds us together, flows through all living things!" She poked Ezra's shoulder with her staff -more like a walking stick. "And you know this young man too, right?" She pointed to Zeb, who immediately straightened, the attention on him again. "He's in your future as well."
Ezra turned to lock eyes with him and there...something about it that made Zeb's stomach turn. His eyes weren't quite sad, but there was a depth to it. Like they knew each other deeply. It was intimidating, to say the least, but also a little...comforting? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that it helped the hairs on his scruff to lay flat again.
"We were good friends. Or, will be, if things turn out the way I hope." Ezra looked back to Chava. "There is a great danger in my future that I want to stop. I can only do that if Squad Leader Orrelios joins me."
Then, the Hails spoke. "If what you're saying is true, then you've come to warn us. Can you speak more on this danger?"
"I can't get too far into the specifics, but just know that this Clone War will affect more than just the Republic and Separatists. In my future..." He looked to Ahsoka, who gave him a silent nod. With a deep breath, the boy continued. "This danger will destroy Lasan. It will bring a nearly complete genocide of your people."
"That..." The Hails turned amongst themselves. "That isn't possible. We are peaceful."
Ezra's expression darkened. "It won't matter. They'll kill you for no other reason than to inflict fear on others. If I don't stop them, so many people will die for nothing but greed. Please, let me have this one request."
The room went silent again. Zeb couldn't even think anymore. So much had just been thrown at him, shoved into his face, and stated as true. He still didn't quite believe in this whole future thing, couldn't let himself indulge in it. But the Hails...they seemed like they did. They spoke in hushed tones, their expressions crossing between anger and worry. Then, finally, they came to a conclusion.
"We will need more time to consult." Zeb held back a cringe. They really were taking this seriously. "But for now, we will allow you Lasan's best hospitality. We will provide as many rooms as you need. Squad Leader Orrelios will be your protector and guide until further notice. He will know where you're permitted to go." Then, they turned to him. Zeb bowed. "Squad Leader, do you have any other words on this decision?"
He hesitated, wanting to tell them it was outright ridiculous and they should've sent the strangers off a long time ago, but he didn't. For some unknown reason -most likely the pressure of speaking so crudely to the Royals- Zeb shook his head. "No, Your Majesties."
"Then you may go."
Zeb turned, waiting for the group to follow before he led them off to the guest rooms.
Chava found Zeb just after he managed to find rooms for the group. They ended up only needing one, preferring to stick together instead of separate. Apparently, it was what they were used to.
Zeb wouldn't imagine choosing to stay in such close quarters with so many others. He barely survived his cadet days, and they all had separate beds.
"Ah, hello again, Squad Leader." Chava smiled like she wanted something from him.
"What do you want?" Zeb sighed, already tired of entertaining crazy people. His ears were starting to ache from all the twitching and pressing they did.
To his surprise, Chava started back down the way he came from. "I wanted to show you something in the gardens."
Zeb sputtered, slowly following after her. "Wha -the gardens? Why?"
He had already seen them before when he was just promoted to Watchman. He would sit in the gardens for long hours, taking in the smells and sounds. Few places in the palace were so natural anymore. Few places on Lasan were, actually. Most of their cities were now covered in durasteel and held roads of noise and action. It was seen as outdated to farm their food when they could just as easily create protein mixes that cost less and sustained them longer. Businessmen, inventors, and artists. They all wanted improvement. Distance from their ancestors while still respecting their ways.
Of course, some still farmed. Some even crafted their bo-rifles after those of their ancestors too, using the electric charges to protect their land from storms and harsh elements. They were fewer, though. Less common, especially in this area of Lasan.
Zeb's distant cousins had embraced that lifestyle, showing him their farm and how to return his bo-rifle to its proper use. He shrugged them off and never really bothered to visit again. It always ended up in fights about the Honor Guard.
"Lovely, isn't it?" Chava said, taking in a deep breath as they stepped into the gardens. It smelled like freshly watered soil and the sweet dew of morning rain. Beautiful insects helped to keep the plants alive, their buzzing and chirping nearly filling the enclosed garden. Flying creatures lived here too, the ones who thrived in rainy places like this. They perched on vines and sang beautiful songs as Zeb and Chava passed them by.
They stopped in front of one, a white-headed creature with black feathers running down the spine in a thin path. Its beach was thick and framed with yellow. Chava reached out to carefully pet along its spine, her eyes turning sad as it sang, the sound almost like a voice. "Do you know this creature, Garazeb?"
Zeb frowned at her informal use of his name but didn't comment. "It's a Kannua." He said plainly.
"Yes. The last Kannua. The other died just last night."
Zeb's heart sank. He looked at the Kannua differently, hearing its song as a cry instead of a conversation.
"Why..." He swallowed the emotion down. "Why are you showin' me this?" Was she just trying to make him sad? To see if he felt bad for this creature?
"Can you imagine it? Being the last of your kind?" Chava's voice was unusually soft. She rubbed the little Kannua's cheek. "No one else will hear it's song. No one else can even understand what it's saying." She turned to him then, her brows furrowing. "So, what if your decision?"
The question came out so suddenly, Zeb had to pause a moment to fully understand it. "My decision? What, about those Jedi?"
"Yes. Have you decided whether you'll go or not?"
Zeb chewed on his answer, his eyes watching the Kannua fly away from them, calling again for a mate that would never come. "It isn't really my decision, right? The Royal Hails will choose whether I go or not." But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't completely true. He was a part of the Honor Guard. They wouldn't send him if he fought it, he knew that. "I...I don't know. It sounds crazy to me."
Chava smiled as she sat on a nearby bench, a groan escaping her. "There's a prophecy of this, you know. A prophecy of a child, a warrior, and a fool." She locks eyes with him and her gaze is intense. "What will you be? The child, the warrior, or the fool?"
They stayed for three days. Over that time, Zeb learned that Jedi Master Billaba and her padawan had a very similar experience when Ezra tried to recruit them as well. They had stated outlandish things but convinced their Jedi Council it was true. Despite that, both Jedi seemed to be fond of Ezra and his Togrutan friend.
"-And then we found him tangled in a bunch of Krykna legs! He begged for our help, all scared in that dark cave!" Ezra enthused to the young padawan, who listened on like he was being given the secrets of the universe.
Rex, the single clone trooper they took from the Republic, folded his arms with a frown. "I highly doubt I would beg anyone for help, let alone you."
"Oh, believe me, you did," Ezra smirked. "We barely made it out of there, too. Even with all seven of us! Those Kryknas are one thing I don't miss about the future."
Zeb cleared his throat from where he stood in the doorway, startling only a few members of the party. Ezra blinked up at him in surprise, then he stood at attention. His posture was too stiff and his solute was weak, but it still managed to pull a slight smile from Zeb. "The Hails are ready to meet with you." He announced, watching as the group exchanged glances. Ezra's eyes didn't leave him, however. The kid sure stared a lot.
He guided them back to the Room of the Ancients, a little less nervously this time. He knew what to expect from these strangers, now.
The Hails started asking more questions as soon as Zeb stood from his bow. "If we were to grant Squad Leader Orrelios, where would you go next?"
Ezra was no less phased by them than he was last time. "We'll travel to Ryloth for the last two members of our party."
"That's within the war's boundaries."
"I know," Ezra answered. "We're looking for a fearless pilot and her...clever astromech."
Zeb looked at him. Lasan didn't have droids, as so many other systems did. They found no point in it when a Lasat could do the same work and better. He wasn't even quite sure what to make of them, whether they were sentient or not. Ezra seemed to speak as if the astromech was just as important as this Twi'lek Pilot.
"How long do you expect this mission to take?" This was a double-sided question. It also asked how close this danger was and how confident they were in stopping it.
"We have three months," Ezra said. He didn't elaborate further.
The Hails paused and Zeb held his breath, unsure what they were going to say. He thought he did when he was escorting the group here; but the more he tried to guess their responses, the less sure he became.
What if they didn't think he was capable enough? What if they refused to accept the words of foreign seers and sent them off?
What if they believed them?
"With the Royal Family's approval, you may ask for Squad Leader Orrelios' aid in your mission. He is a good warrior and will serve you well. If, he accepts."
All eyes turned to Zeb, but he already knew what he'd say. "I'll go." He nodded, amused when Ezra smiled brightly at him as if he won a risky game of sabacc.
"Then it is settled. We wish you luck on your journey. May the Ashla guide you." And with that, they started filing out.
Stepping out of the room, Zeb released a heavy sigh. He looked at Ezra, who was still staring at him. Then, he shoved the boy lightly. "Alright, kid, ya won me over. Now what?" He huffed, already getting back to business.
"We have a ship!" Padawan Dume pointed in the general direction of their docking port. Then, he went through a process of collecting his excitement, then looking just as neutral as the others. "You can stay with me and my Master, if you'd like. We'll be quiet and allow you as much space as you need...Sir."
His master looked down with a proud smile.
"Uh...thanks." Zeb winced, already dreading the trip to Ryloth. And with two more passengers, it would only be more cramped.
"Alright! Sabine's probably not even born yet, so we'll head back to Coruscant right after Ryloth." Ezra started, talking more to himself than anymore else. "We could try looking for Kallus again, but we can't bet on it. As for Lothal-" The boy kept going, moving toward the docks in a mindless ramble.
Ahsoka stood beside Zeb, her hand gentle as it rested on his shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Zeb." She smiled. "You're in for quite the ride."
Was it too late to rethink this?
If I find the motivation, I might write more chapters of this AU. But for now, it's just this. Also, if you want to know the song from the Kannua, look up Kauai O'o last mating call. It's really sad.