(A/N) Well, as I usually seem to say at the start of a fic...so...this happened. I sorta got blindsided by Rebels. Knocked it out in about a week and, as tends to happen in my life, the plot hounds came baying for blood. I surely hope you enjoy the results of their hunt.

The Colder the Winter, the Warmer the Spring

Chapter 1: When They Cry...

It was supposed to be a straightforward, palms up assignment, chasing rumors and leads in the Allurian System. But really, nothing in Agent Alexsandr Kallus' life had been straightforward since his stint on a frozen moon above Geonosis – or perhaps it was the first time anything in his life had been straightforward. It was difficult to say during these runs to create false leads for the Empire while still keeping on the lookout for useable intel as the latest Fulcrum agent.

This latest assignment shouldn't have been all that difficult, though – just a mission to scout out reports of rebel activity on Alluria. There wasn't supposed to be any activity. According to the former Imperial's sources, Alluria's rebel cell had long since abandoned their home base to join up with Dodonna's fleet. Unfortunately, the smoke rising in the distance from what looked to be a recent battle seemed to say that his sources might've been off on a few details. Growling under his breath in worry, Kallus gunned his speeder that much faster, urging it toward the rising smoke.

What he came upon was the burnt out husk of an outpost of some sort. Stormtroopers were swarming all over the site of the battle, tallying their own dead and the numbers of their victims. When he brought his speeder to a stop near their perimeter, he quickly leapt from the transport and sought out the highest-ranked trooper he could find.

"Captain, report!" he snapped as he approached the stormtrooper, trying to keep his focus on gathering information and not on these people he might have saved.

"Oh! Agent Kallus, Sir!" the trooper immediately snapped to attention upon catching sight of him. "We weren't expecting you for another two cycles."

"No matter. I am here now. What happened here? What do you have to report?" he repeated, pointedly looking at the featureless white faceplate and not at the ruin beyond it, smoldering orange and red in the waning light of day.

"An insurgents' enclave of some kind, Sir. We gave them a chance to surrender peacefully, but...they preferred to go down fighting. You know these rebel types."

"Indeed, I do," he said, keeping his expression carefully unreadable as he forced himself to look at what remained of the conflagration. He caught sight of an overturned fruit cart and a Phindian banner still burning as the tattered ribbons of fabric caught on the evening breeze, sending a new wave of embers whipping through the air. The sight wasn't anything he was unfamiliar with. He knew war. Of course he did – but then he caught sight of something that truly made his stomach turn.

A tiny plastile toy in the shape of a bantha, half-burned, but still recognizable.

What have they done? he asked in silence, feeling something in him grow cold as he watched the toy burn.

"Captain?" he began in a tone of barely-contained anger, feeling a fresh wave of guilt grip at his heart. "Am I to understand that you and your men attacked a settlement with families inside? Children?"

"Sir, I only-"

Whatever excuse the trooper was about to spout was suddenly interrupted by a hideous shriek. Kallus' gaze snapped back to the smoldering buildings to see a stormtrooper being ground underfoot – by none other than a wild-eyed Lasat warrior.

"Look out! We got a live one!"

"MURDERERS!" the incensed Lasat shrieked as it came at them. It didn't take long for the warrior to zero in on Kallus, seeing the bo-rifle slung across his back.

In a moment that seemed to the former security agent to last a small eternity, he watched the Lasat lunge toward him. Zeb would scold him for it if he ever found out, but Alex might really have let the alien take his head off in that moment without any kind of fight. It was only the split-second instinct of years and years of combat training that forced his hand, his body drawing the bo-rifle almost without his permission.

It was only when the Lasat's weapon came into contact with his that Kallus realized it wasn't a bo-rifle. Just a force pike. No less deadly in the right hands, of course, but maybe these were not the right hands. This Lasat was no warrior – only a desperate being.

"Please. Don't do this," Kallus ground out as they grappled. He made no move to attack, only to keep their weapons locked together in a stalemate. "I don't want to fight you!"

"'Don't want to fight!'" the Lasat snarled mockingly through their crossed weapons, "says the creature standing there like a coward with a stolen weapon!"

"It's not like that!" he tried to argue, putting all of his strength into a push to shove the Lasat back.

When his opponent stumbled, Kallus realized that the only reason he hadn't bowled him over completely was that his left foot was badly burned. He was a little too rattled to even pretend to face the Lasat as an enemy. He and Zeb would at least be able to put on a show for the expectant Imperial eyes, but this one...this Lasat had every intention of killing him.

And for the life of him, Kallus couldn't think of a reason to stop him from doing so.

"So what exactly is it like?" the Lasat demanded before spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Going about with innocent blood on your hands? Behaving as if you somehow had more of a right to live than the mothers and children you killed?! You Imperial dogs are filthy murderers! Every last one of you!" his opponent snarled in rage before coming at him.

Kallus didn't know what did it, but he suddenly found himself hearing the accusations in Zeb's voice. It was like hearing Garazeb Orrelios reminding him of all the horrific things he'd done in his life. Zeb...who'd spared him, shown him compassion, forgiven him, forgiven what could never be forgiven. Zeb...who was his ally, his friend...who was more to him than anyone else in his life ever had been. And he now stood to pass judgement on all of Kallus' sins for daring to ask for forgiveness.

You hurt my world. You hurt my people! You hurt me!

No! Zeb...I could never...I didn't...

But he had. It was already done and there was nothing he could do to change it. So as the avenging Lasat came at him, raising his force pike for one final strike, Alexsandr Kallus found he could do nothing but let his bo-rifle fall to the ground, leaving himself completely open to whatever attack came.

Only the attack never did come. The sound of blaster fire ripped through the agent's ears as it tore into his opponent's body. Kallus could do nothing but look on in shock as the light left the Lasat's eyes. He was dead before he'd even hit the ground.

Kallus, meanwhile, couldn't stop himself from falling to his knees, though he still fought to keep himself from hyperventilating. The entire incident had been a little too close to what he imagined it would be like to watch Zeb be shot and killed. That...he couldn't take that. And he had to pull himself together right this kriffing second...or they would see...they would see...

"Are you all right, Sir?" one of the troopers demanded as the squad ran up to him. Kallus struggled to keep his gaze fixed on the dead Lasat, hoping his expression might pass for anger instead of the horror it really was.

"Fine," he whispered as he slowly reached for his bo-rifle. "Not a scratch."

"Sir, we should probably get you back to HQ. That was-"

"I'm fine!" he snapped as he re-situated the weapon at his back. Then he got to his feet. "Tell me...were there any other Lasat in this encampment?"

"I really don't think this is the best time to-"

"I asked you a simple question, trooper," he growled low in his throat, every moment he maintained his composure a victory for him. "Were there. Any more Lasat. In this encampment?" he repeated slowly, glaring at the man.

"Just a few," the trooper finally answered, pointing back at the half-collapsed building the first Lasat had emerged from. "But we thought we'd killed them."

"And of course we all saw how well that turned out, didn't we," he said, pointedly not looking at any of them as he moved in the direction indicated.

"Sir, why waste your time? That building could go at any minute," the squad leader protested.

"Clearly, Captain, you do not know much about fighting the Lasat. I do, I'm afraid. If I need backup, I will call for it," he said as he descended into the dwelling. He had to know for certain. He had to.

The first thing he took note of upon entering the main living area were the two Lasat males sprawled painfully upon the floor, unmistakably dead. Shaking his head in aching pity and apology, he turned from the sight, meaning to leave. No doubt he didn't need to see any more...

...except that was the moment his ears picked out a pitiful, keening mewl from among the crackling of the dying flames.

No. It couldn't be.

Could it?

Following the sound, Kallus continued on for two more rooms, until he came to what looked to be some sort of storeroom, and the sight he beheld inside was arguably much more horrific than the dead Lasat from the front room.

A Lasat female was pinned beneath a fallen durasteel beam, a pool of her own blood quickly spreading around her. She struggled to try and move from beneath the beam, but there was clearly no saving her. Despite her impending death, she was reaching with all of her might toward a small basket that was just a few feet out of her grasp.

The basket was the source of the mewling sound.

Oh, no...

Kallus approached slowly so as not to frighten the dying Lasat, but she still snarled upon catching sight of him, snapping and baring her teeth, swiping her one free hand in his direction to warn him away.

"Stay back...Imperial dog," she growled as best she could, her long purple hair matted with blood. "I may be dying...but my death will be my own. Stay away!"

"No," he started gently as he moved to his knees, inching toward her across the soot-covered floor. "I swear I'm not going to hurt you."

The Lasat gave a bitter, broken sound at this, a sound that under normal circumstances might have been a laugh. Banging her head against the crude floor, she reached out her hand once more, fingers curling around empty air. "I am, I think, far past even your ability to hurt me, dog," she coughed out, clearly in pain.

"It's all right," he said when he finally reached her, presenting her with the bo-rifle and showing her what he hadn't had the chance to show her companion – a small symbol carved into the barrel of the weapon. It was something Zeb had done for him to prevent further negative reactions to it. The sigil signified that, by right of Boosahn Keeraw, he carried the bo-rifle honorably. He had every right to bear it. "I'm not one of them."

Something in the young mother's expression shifted at this. At first, she didn't say anything more, just continued to stretch her hand out toward the basket.

"Human...please...my child...my child..." she begged him, at which point he moved to retrieve the basket.

Shifting aside a protective nest of blankets, Kallus beheld a tiny Lasat kit, eyes barely open as it mewled and cried pitifully for its mother. Not completely certain what to do, he awkwardly lifted the baby Lasat into his arms and carried it back to its mother, allowing her to reach out and stroke the little one's furry head.

"Shh, shh," she soothed, tears flowing from her own eyes as she stroked behind the baby's ear and under its chin. "It's all right. I'm here. I'm here. Don't cry, ni kyra."

Gradually, her murmured soothings shifted into the gentle hum of a lullaby. With each note, the infant calmed a little more, until the tiny thing finally fell asleep in Kallus' arms, mouth opening wide in a yawn as it curled up against his chest.

"You have a Lasat scent about you," the mother said with a distant smile. "It's faint, but it's there."

Despite the seriousness of their situation, the comment made the agent blush mildly. The young mother easily took the meaning of his expression, her own eyes growing more distant as she continued to stroke her child's fur. The distance quickly shifted to pain, though, when the beam trapping her crushed something more inside of her. Groaning in pain, she choked out, "Remember...when nothing else works...this will calm her. She's a good kit. If there's- anything you can do...please...take her somewhere safe...my daughter..."

"I will," he promised without thought. "I will do whatever I have to. I swear it," he said, burning gaze shifting from the mother down to her daughter. This poor, dying Lasat didn't know who he was, couldn't know what he'd done. He couldn't change what had happened, could never truly atone for it. He couldn't bring the dead back to life, but if he could save even one Lasat, just one small life...maybe that would be enough.

"Ashla bless you, kind sir. I do not- know why you wear their clothing, but...you are a good man," she wheezed, reaching out first to lay her hand on top of his, then moving it to rest on her daughter's head one last time. "Protect her...keep- keep my child safe...my treasure..."

"I will," he promised over and over again, not knowing what more he could do to comfort her in her final moments. "I will protect her."

"My treasure...my dearest treasure," she whispered as the life faded from her eyes. "My- Ar..."

The Lasat tried to draw breath to speak the rest of the name, but she couldn't manage it. She exhaled one last breath and her chest remained still.

Kallus couldn't say how long he knelt there in the crumbling silence of the burnt out home, with one Lasat dead beside him and another living, clutched against his chest and sleeping peacefully, little knowing that her life had changed forever. By the time he managed to make himself look down at the child in his arms, the light from outside had dimmed considerably.

This was too big. It was much too big. The sensible part of his brain knew that. Even his Fulcrum training dictated that this one life paled in comparison to the cause they were fighting for. But the less than sensible part of his brain – the part that had caused him to defect, to fight for something he believed in, the part that loved a crazy, noble, angry, beautiful Lasat warrior – that part knew he had no hope of turning away from this little girl.

If she were human, there might be a chance the Empire would spare her life, make her a ward of the state and allow her a chance to live. But he also knew from experience that that kind of life was almost not worth living. Besides, this child was not human. More than that, she was Lasat. The Lasat had been cleansed. Lasan had been punished. Lasan had burned. And if the Empire had its way, this helpless kit would burn, too. He had to help her. He had to keep her safe, no matter what it took. And when the baby girl shifted in his arms, cuddling even closer against his chest and reaching out a single purple paw to wrap around the torn hem of his uniform jacket, he knew he was already willing to die for her.

You can die later, he could almost hear Zeb's voice at his ear. First you've gotta get the little spriggit past the imps.

Right. He could deal with the logistics of this situation later. The first step was to get the little Lasat past the stormtroopers.

The basket was a little too obvious, so he searched the room for something that hadn't been destroyed by fire, finally coming up with a krayt skin knapsack. Lifting one of the blankets from the basket, he gently laid the kit down on it, making sure she wasn't going to wake and start screaming before he went about his work. Moving quickly and efficiently, he removed the other blankets from the basket and used them to line the knapsack, making a comfortable nest for the tiny baby. Once he was satisfied with his work, he settled her inside the knapsack, being careful not to close the thing all the way.

Before making his way up out of the dwelling, Kallus glanced briefly back at the kit's mother, feeling guilty that he couldn't do more for her, that he hadn't been in time to save her, guilty that he'd had a hand in making her a refugee in the first place. By this point, he knew enough about Lasat funerary rites to know what she likely would have wanted done, but for that he lacked time and material. That and others might be suspicious if he marked her death in any way. All he'd been able to do for her was close her eyes and offer up a prayer to the Ashla in broken Lasana.

It would have to be enough that her child was going to live. He would make certain of it. Being careful of the knapsack clutched in his hand, he steeled himself and headed out among the stormtroopers, just as he'd always done – only now there was everything to lose.

At first, no one paid him any mind. He was about halfway back to his speeder, thinking he just might get through this without incident, when a voice called out to him.

"Agent Kallus!" the trooper captain called as he jogged over to him. "Sir, you were down there awhile. What happened?"

"Thankfully for you, Captain, some of us actually do pay attention," he growled without breaking his stride, forcing the trooper to move with him.

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"You missed one. I found- another of those filthy animals down there," he said, feeling something inside of him twist in pain and grief as he forced the words out. "That wouldn't have looked at all good in your report, would it. A successful raid, only to lose half your men at the last moment to an insurgent you failed to account for."

"Apologies, Sir. Suppose that's what we have men like you for."

"Of course. Men...like me," he mumbled distantly, focusing on getting to his speeder instead of the sudden chill surging down his spine. They were so close now.

"What's with the sack, Sir?" the trooper suddenly pressed. "Something to do with the rebels?"

"Unrelated. ISB business," he stated firmly as he mounted his speeder.

"Sir...you do know I need to report everything related to this incident," the trooper reminded him hesitantly, reaching out as if to flip back the top of the sack.

"Not this you don't!" the agent snapped a bit more harshly than he needed to, pulling the knapsack out of the trooper's reach. "If it warrants inclusion in your report, I shall inform you afterward."

"But we've already been remiss more than once today," the man started to protest, still trying to reach for the knapsack. "I shouldn't-"

"Are you questioning me, trooper?" Kallus snarled, his desperation masked as anger as he pressed the knapsack tightly against his stomach. Though dispensing with the trooper's proper title did have the desired effect of cowing the man into silence. He simply shook his head and offered up a clumsy salute as apology. "Good," the agent continued in a calmer voice, though a note of fear was beginning to tremble beneath that composure because he could feel the kit starting to shift in her nest. She didn't like the sudden movements or the shouting. If he knew anything about infants, he knew he would have only seconds before this one made her displeasure known. "Speak no more of this and you just might not compromise my investigation. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lead to follow up on," he snapped before gunning the speeder away from the destroyed settlement.

And not a moment too soon, because the poor little kit burst into tears the moment they were in motion, her disconsolate wailing nearly carrying over the shriek of the speeder's engine. Kallus was able to ignore the distressed crying for a time, mostly because he was so relieved at having gotten her safe away, but he knew he couldn't ignore it forever. When he felt he'd gotten far enough out onto the windswept Allurian grasslands that her cries couldn't possibly be overheard, he finally brought the speeder to a stop.

Dismounting the speeder, he retrieved the little Lasat from her nest, attempting to cradle her against his chest as he began to pace circles around the small transport.

"Hush...shh...oh, please," he pleaded with her, awkwardly patting her back while still keeping an eye on the surrounding landscape. It would be dark soon. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry your mother's dead and I'm sorry it's me you're stuck with...the man who destroyed your people," he confessed, actually feeling tears burn behind his own eyes as he struggled and failed to comfort her. "What do you want? What do you need? I'll do whatever you want. Just tell me."

But she was telling him, wasn't she. It wasn't her fault he couldn't understand. None of this was her fault, but she was still the one who would suffer for it. What could he do? What could he really do...to help her?

Remember, her mother's voice sounded faintly in his mind as he began to unthinkingly stroke the fur behind her ear...when nothing else works...this will calm her.

There had been no words to the Lasat's lullaby, but he found he remembered most of the tune. Continuing to stroke her fur, he hummed for her. Objectively, he didn't imagine he sounded very soothing, nearly as panicked as she was, but she still seemed to take comfort from the gentle vibrations of his chest. After a time, she finally began to calm down, not falling asleep again, but shifting into a more tranquil state, purring softly while she burbled, her sound caught somewhere between feline and human.

When he'd managed to get the little kit calm, Kallus sat down in the grass near the speeder to try and think the situation through – and for several minutes, all he could come up with was that this was inarguably the most foolish thing he had ever done. He was a military man. He barely knew anything about human babies, much less Lasat kits. She would need to be fed, kept warm, changed. How old was she? What was it safe for her to eat? What was her name? He didn't even know that, though he was certain her mother had been trying to say it at the end. Was he going to have to name her, too? He couldn't just keep calling her kit. Had he made his vow to her mother only to have to watch the little thing die just a few hours later because his stupid arse didn't know a kriffing thing about childcare?

"Calm down," he scolded himself after a time. Panicking was going to help nothing and well he knew it. This was a challenge like any other he'd faced. He just needed to figure out a new kind of solution. He couldn't return to the city. Not until he'd figured something out, at least. So if they were going to be spending the night out in the open like this, his first step would have to be to set up camp.

The work was difficult to do single-handed with a kit in the other arm, but Kallus had every intention of keeping her in his sight, and he did somehow manage. As he moved through the familiar, methodical motions of setting up camp, a plan slowly began to take shape in his mind.

Zeb. The other rebels. The Ghost crew. They would know what to do. They would know of someplace safe to take her. If nothing else, he could at least get some kit care tips from the Lasat. Enough, at least, that he might be able to care for her until they found a suitable home.

"I hope you all are in the mood for another one of your completely insane plans," he mumbled to himself as he sent out the call on his civilian comm.

XxX

Zeb groaned in annoyance as he banged his head against the door to his and Ezra's bunk. Ashla preserve him from mis-wired murder droids and Jedi bratlings.

"C'mon, Zeb," Ezra's needling voice followed after him. "It's not like Chopper knew the catch was rigged."

"Oh, he knew. He knew and you told him to rig it," he snarled over his shoulder as he banged the door open – as much as one could bang a sliding door, leastwise. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you two grublits were trying to get me killed."

Chopper gave several trills and whirs at this, finishing the statement with a pronounced clang of one of his manipulator arms.

Zeb shrugged and rolled his eyes, giving a pained laugh as he headed into the bunk. "You know what? That's fair. So long as we're all on the same page."

"Somebody's gotta remind you to keep on your toes," Ezra pointed out.

"Oh, I'll keep on my toes all right. You just better watch yours or you'll wind up with them sliced off," he threatened jokingly, throwing a fond smirk over his shoulder at the young Jedi before shutting the door behind him. While it could sometimes be annoying to have to watch for death traps aboard his own home turf, he would admit it was nice to see Ezra amused about something. The kid had precious little to grin over these days. If that meant a few lost hairs and a year or two shaved off his life in the process, well...that was a sacrifice he was perfectly happy to make.

Zeb was ready to kick back in his bunk and take a much needed nap after their escapades on Geonosis, but just as he was getting settled in, he noticed his datapad was flashing with an incoming transmission. Somebody was trying to get in touch.

Slipping the pad free of its nook, he tapped into the device to check the frequency. It was an incoming holotransmission.

DNF-121 .XX(A)

Kal!

Kal didn't often get a chance to contact him outside of Fulcrum transmissions, but they'd been able to set up an emergency channel just in case it was needed. They talked often enough over pirated frequencies, text and the occasional voice conversation, but for Kal to send him a holotransmission...something must really be wrong.

"Kal!" he half-shouted as he activated the transmission, afraid of what he might see. "What's wrong? Are you all right? You'd better be all right."

He wasn't really sure what he'd expected to see, but the flickering holo image that appeared before him definitely wasn't it. Alexsandr Kallus sat, captured within the blue glare of the holo with a helpless expression on his face. With the grainy quality of the image, Zeb couldn't say if he was actually seeing it or not, but those looked like tear tracks on the former Imperial's cheeks.

"Zeb," he began in a strangled voice. "I'm sorry, I...I didn't know who else to go to."

"Alex," Zeb continued in a hesitant, fearful voice, reaching out a hand to the flickering image. "What happened? What did they do to you?" he pressed, almost certain that the other man had been found out somehow. If the Empire had hurt him, Zeb didn't care what he might be compromising...what he might be throwing away. If Kal had been hurt, he was going to tear every last stinking imp in the galaxy to ribbons.

"No, it's not- not me," the Fulcrum agent rushed to reassure him. "I...here."

With that, the image widened and Zeb could see that Kallus was holding something in his arms, and as the Lasat inspected the image, he gradually began to realize that it was a baby – a Lasat kit.

"Zeb...help me."

"Oh, karabast."

XxX

"Kallus, you need to calm down," Hera said firmly as the Ghost crew gathered in the cockpit to hear the transmission. "It's not going to help her to see you lose control."

"Right, of course. Sorry," the former ISB agent acknowledged with a curt nod.

"I might also point out that you're holding her all wrong."

"Sorry?" Kallus asked, looking to the Ghost captain for an explanation.

"There's no way she's comfortable just dangling there with your hands under her arms like that," Hera deadpanned. "If you want to know why she's fussy, that's a good place to start."

"Then what do I do?" Kallus pressed in desperation.

"Not freak out, for a start," Hera reminded him. "We're going to help you get through this, but you need to go about it calmly."

Kanan couldn't seem to help snickering at the former Imperial's distress. "Oh, stars, I wish I could see this."

"I don't see you offering up any ideas, Jarrus," Kallus snapped out indignantly.

"Oh, I imagine our Jedi knight's got plenty of tips to offer up. Used to have a whole temple-full of little ankle-biters, didn't you," Rex couldn't seem to help ribbing.

Something in the knight's frame bristled at this as he slowly turned his head in the clone's direction. "Yes. Yes, we did. A temple-full of children that the Empire murdered!" he snarled.

"Hey! Shut it!" Zeb growled at the combatants, seeing what no one else in the cockpit had – the way Kal's eyes had widened at the mention of the massacre...how his shoulders had stiffened and his breathing had grown ragged. "Kallus has had a rough day. He doesn't need this right now. He needs our help."

"Right," Rex conceded awkwardly.

"Sorry," Kanan finished.

All of the racket had started the little one whimpering, leaving Kallus looking on the verge of panicking all over again. Hera pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Okay, first lesson. Can you see what I'm doing with my arms," the Twi'lek instructed as she formed them into a cradle.

"Yes."

"Her head goes up here, in the crook of your elbow," she explained, lifting her own elbow to show what he should be doing. "And your other hand supports her bottom, like this. Once you're holding her securely, she won't have to be afraid she's going to fall and she'll be much less fussy."

It took Kallus a few moments to get them both situated, but once he was holding her properly, they both visibly began to calm down.

"There. Much better," Hera said with a pleased nod.

Chopper gave several low whines, spinning in a circle on his treads before raising his antenna straight up from his dome. Kallus' head snapped up at the comment, his cheeks coloring visibly, even in the blue holo image.

"What did the droid say?" he demanded in a scandalized voice.

Zeb growled as he gave the little droid a kick. "Watch your mouth, trash compactor. There are young ears present."

Chopper's next round of whistles quickly drew the ire of their resident Jedi padawan.

"Hey! I'm not that young."

At this, Chopper's dome spun several times and he rolled back over to Zeb to give him a few shoves. Then he gave a series of high-pitched trills, actually shifting back and forth between his treads before spinning in another circle, ending the pantomime with a knowing tap to Zeb's leg with a manipulator arm.

Zeb groaned as he buried his face in his hand. "Okay, that was a kriff-ton more than I ever wanted the crew to know about my sleep-talking habits."

"What was that you said about watching your mouth, Zeb?" Kanan jibed. The comment was quickly followed by an uncomfortably low whir from Chopper.

"No, it was not interesting, scrap yard. Would you give it a rest? I'm not sure that's even physically possible."

That roused a vicious round of pokes from the cantankerous astromech.

"Chopper," the Lasat growled warningly. "I'm about an inch from spacing you and I don't care who knows it."

"So, I've got an idea," Sabine interrupted mildly. "How about we all turn our attention back to the issue at hand," she suggested, gesturing toward a bemused-looking former ISB agent. Kallus just shook his head.

"Honestly, how you all eluded capture for so long is a mystery I will never be able to fathom."

"So...what happened?" Ezra was the one to finally ask, and the discussion coming back full circle caused the Fulcrum agent to sigh dejectedly.

"It was already over by the time I arrived," he began to recount, absently stroking the fur behind the kit's ear. "I was supposed to be scouting for rebels that shouldn't have been there, but...the local garrison discovered a pocket of resistance. The fighting was done with when I pulled up, but then we were attacked...by a Lasat," he said, eyes finding Zeb's with a deep well of apology in them. Zeb didn't bother to ask if there were any more Lasat from the settlement. He understood what Kallus' role as Fulcrum entailed...and he understood what it must have cost Alex to fight this battle.

"I did my best," Kallus said softly, eyes briefly squeezing shut as he turned away from the comfort Zeb tried to offer with his gaze. "I didn't want to fight him."

"It's all right, Kallus," Hera soothed him. "You did what you had to. No one understands that more than us." And for just a moment, they all considered how shocked they would've been just a few short months ago to hear Hera offer such comfort to a man who had once been their enemy.

"I didn't- actually kill him. I don't think I could have...if it had come down to it. He was gunned down by the other troopers. I went to investigate the dwelling he'd emerged from...and I found two other dead Lasat inside...and a young mother...crushed by a beam. I had only time to promise her- that I would keep her child safe...before she died," he finished, not really looking at any of them, just looking off into the distance at something they couldn't see.

"All right. First things first. Where are you now?" Hera pressed him.

"Out- out on the grasslands. I had to get her away. I didn't- really think at all. I just ran."

"That's fine. So long as you're both safe, we can work with this. Did her mother tell you her name?"

"Not- exactly. I believe she was trying to...near the end. I heard the letters A and R, and she kept talking about her treasure. It may have been a simple endearment, but-"

"It's not," Zeb interrupted as he surveyed the child in Kal's arms. It had been such a long time since he'd seen a Lasat kit. Lira San was safe, of course, but he'd sometimes wondered if he ever would again. "In Lasana...there's a name that means 'Sacred Treasure'. If that's what she was trying to tell you, then this kit's name is Arkalia."

"Arkalia," Kallus tried the name out as he looked down at the kit, who offered up a yawn and a purr before settling a little further into his arms. None of them failed to notice Ezra's tiny 'aww' at the painfully adorable sight. "I like it," he said, offering the baby girl a small smile.

"All right, that's settled. Next we've got age. Any insights for that one, Zeb?" Hera asked.

"That one's a bit harder. I wasn't exactly a creche maid back on Lasan," the former guardsman pointed out, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"Every little bit helps. The information's not exactly going to be widely available on the holonet," Hera reminded him.

"Okay, well...I can't- quite tell from here. Are her eyes open yet?" he asked, moving a little closer to the image of Kallus.

"Only just, I think," Kallus reported.

"What about teeth? Those come in yet?"

"Yes. Not much more than stubs, though."

"Milk teeth, then. So...not any younger than three months with the eyes, and I don't think she could be any older than ten months with the teeth. That's about when the adult ones start comin' in. And those are Lasan months, mind. I've never really had to think about the conversion for standard, but I- I think it's close enough," he muttered, giving the occasionally flickering pair in the hologram a small half-smile.

"So what does she need? To eat, I mean. What is it safe for her to have?"

"Should be milk until the adult teeth come in. I'm not- really sure what a suitable substitute for Lasat milk would be," Zeb said, feeling guilty as he watched Kal rock the little kit. Here he'd reached out to him for help and he barely knew anything about kits. What could he do?

"Wookiee would probably be best," Hera mused. "Doubt you'd be able to get ahold of it, though. Nerf works in most cases. Would you be able to get it from where you are?"

"I...think so," Kallus said after thinking on it for a moment. "Though it might be best to return to the city out of uniform, get what I need from the market unobserved."

"Would they be expecting you back anytime soon?" Zeb asked him.

"Well, at the moment, I'm supposedly chasing a lead I discovered in the destroyed enclave. I have leave to pursue my own investigations, so I don't imagine they would be surprised not to hear from me for another three days or so. There's time to- figure things out," he said with a nod.

"What were you thinking for the long term?" Hera asked, crossing her arms over her chest as Kanan moved up to stand beside her.

"I have to get her somewhere safe," he said, looking up at all of them with a painfully ernest expression on his face. "I swore. I made a promise to her mother. I have to make sure she lives."

"Safe from the Empire?" Kanan pointed out with a pained shrug. "That's already a pretty tall order of itself, but a Lasat kit?"

"The first bucket head with delusions of grandeur'd be gunnin' for her inside of a Nar Shaddaa minute," Rex pointed out when Kanan didn't finish. "Who wouldn't want to be the one to bring the last of the Lasat to the Emperor."

"But you can do it...can't you?" Kallus pressed, a note of worry sounding in his voice. "I thought you spectres could do anything."

"We're not miracle workers, Kallus," Sabine pointed out. "We're barely safe from the Empire. This is going to take some work."

"There might be a place we can take her," Zeb interrupted before the others could continue to let Kal twist. "It's just...it's a little bit difficult to get there. It's like Sabine said. It's gonna take some work."

Kallus gave a loud sigh of relief at this. "Thank you. All of you. What is the best way for you to- to collect her?"

Hera gave a sigh of her own in response, but then she squared her shoulders and looked the former Imperial agent dead in the face. "I know this is irregular and I know we don't usually do things this way, but if Zeb trusts you then so do I. I need you to tell us where you are. What system?"

Kallus regarded Hera with slightly widened eyes for a long moment before answering. "The Allurian System. We're on Alluria."

"All right. That's workable. Imperial presence in that system's pretty minimal," Hera said as she took a seat in the pilot's chair, beginning to plot their course.

"Only because of its lack of plunderable resources," Sabine muttered.

"Doesn't matter why. What matters is we can make this work. It's still too risky for the Ghost to just waltz up to Alluria right after an Imperial raid. Kallus, would you be able to get our package to Alluvium?"

"The sister planet? It would not- be easy...but I believe I can manage."

"Good. It'll be about two cycles before we can get there. We need to do some scrambling and grab some supplies. We'll use the Phantom to leave a false lead for you. Zeb'll get you more information as we get closer."

"I'll be seeing you soon, Kal," Zeb said with a reassuring grin. Kallus returned the look with a small smile of his own.

"Perhaps the climate will be a bit more agreeable this time," he said just before Arkalia began to fuss again. "Oh, what's the matter this time?"

Hera's grin could only have been described as demonic as she looked at the unsuspecting agent.

"Second lesson of the day, Fulcrum. Diaper changing."

Stars, but it was so hard not to laugh at the way the color drained from the poor man's face.

XxX

(A/N) So...shall we begin?