A/N My contribution to Kalluzeb appreciation week based off today's theme of other people's reactions. Hope you guys enjoy! xxxxxxxxx

"Alexsandr Kallus reporting to initiation sir."

Draven stared at the stitched together pieces of a broken man standing in front of him. His expression didn't show the pain, but it was impossible to hide the black eye, blood trickling from his mouth and stench of infection coming from underneath the black trouser leg of his imperial uniform. Draven clenched his fists at the offending garment, the reason why he was so reluctant to let the man into the ranks of rebel intelligence. He didn't trust anyone period, so when he had been told he was to be under his command, at first he had thought he had been on the receiving end of someone's deranged prank. However, it was no joke. He was actually expected to let an ISB agent not only roam free around the base but have full access to undercover operations. This Alexsandr Kallus may have the approval of the newly promoted General Syndulla and the original Fulcrum god rest her soul, but to Draven this only meant he would have to be even more vigilant if the man had been able to convince his superiors.

"You will address me as General." Draven ordered, his face barely inches from Kallus' face. His spit stook to the strands of his mutton chops as he placed a blaster to his temple. "Let me make this clear. I do not trust you. I do not like you. I will watch your every move and if you give me one sign that you are still working for the enemy, this bullet will go through your head."

To the man's credit, he didn't even flinch. He was so close to his golden eyes that he could see the resignation in, as though he expected this.

"I understand, General." If Draven didn't know better, he would say that the man sounded pleased he had threatened him, like this was the only reasonable reaction anyone had had towards him since he'd stepped foot onto the base.

"Good." He said, lowering his blaster, its safety still off. "Get your ass over to Captain Andor, he'll tell you what you need to know."

Kallus nodded. Draven watched as he walked away, unable to hide the limp in his step and wince on his face.

Over the next couple of months, Kallus proved himself to be a valuable asset in undercover missions. He hadn't done anything that warranted a bullet through his head yet, but Draven still wasn't fully connived the man wasn't playing the long game. He stayed true to his word, keeping a keen eye on Kallus. Through his observations he quickly discovered that the former spy wasn't very sociable, choosing mostly to keep to himself unless instructed otherwise, unspringing really since Draven doubted many people where in a hurry to befriend the ex-imperial. The only exceptions seemed to be Captain Andor whom the older man had taken a shine too, and the Ghost crew. Although in the case of the latter it seemed that the crew were the ones pushing for the interaction, as oppose to Kallus seeking them out.

Draven knew that Kallus had fought the crew in the past so at first, he thought that they were waiting for him to betray them like he was. However, he began to realise that the opposite was in fact that case. They had forgiven him before the ISB agent had forgiven himself. Captain Orrelios in particular was quick to remind Kallus that his spying days, for the Empire at least, were over.

It was becoming more frequent now that he would spot the pair alone, either cleaning their unusual weapons, sparring or just talking. It was one of the rare times, Draven would see Kallus come out behind his mask of no emotion. The glow would return to his golden eyes and locks, and shoulders were relaxed as though he wasn't carrying the weight of the galaxy upon them. Once Draven swore, he even saw him smile.

Another carefully planned mission ended in complete disaster. Kallus had been recognised in an undercover assignment leading to his capture. It was a week before they were able to carry out his rescue. And every second of every day of that week, Draven had an angry seven-foot tall Lasat screaming at him to rescue him. Eventually they had discovered where he was being held and Cassian had been sent to extract him or kill him if he had revealed any of their secrets.

Draven headed to the medical wing. He paused when he heard raised voices coming from Kallus' suite.

"What do you mean your injuries don't matter!"

"Because they don't. The only thing that matters is the mission!"

"Get over yourself Kal! You might not care about your injuries, but I do!"

"You shouldn't."

As the charged silence stretched, Draven took that as his que to enter. The broken remains of Alexsandr Kallus lay on a bed in front of him. The man looked even worse than when he had firs laid eyes on him. Clumps were missing from his dull hair and Draven had yet to find a piece of skin that wasn't bleeding or bruised. Cassian couldn't find any evidence on the Imperial files that he had spilled their secrets. Draven didn't want to think about the ways they had tortured him in their attempt. On one side of the bed stood Captain Orrelios, his purple fur bristling with indignation, Kallus looked sombrely down at his bed sheets as he avoided the green glare.

Draven coughed. Both pairs of eyes turned to face him. Those golden eyes widened as they realised that their superior was here. His face once again became one of complete emotionless.

"Captain Kallus I need a full report of your mission."

But before he could answer, Garazeb interrupted.

"Hey pal! He's only just woken up. He need's rest!"

"And I need that information now. Time is not something we have on our side Captain Orrelios. He's awake so he can talk."

"But-" Garazeb emitted a low growl, as Kallus spoke.

"Go. I'll be fine."

Reluctantly, Garazeb stormed out of the wing, muttering grievances under his breathe. Once he was gone, Draven took the Lasat's place at his bedside.

"He is right you know." He told him.

Kallus glanced up at him with confusion.

"You really do need to get over yourself."

Kallus stared back down at his bedsheets, most likely unsure how to reply without offending his superior. Draven sighed.

"Listen kid. I know what you're thinking. That you don't deserve him. But that's not the point. You need to get your head out of your ass and realise not everything is about you. Have you ever thought about how he deserves happiness after everything he'd been through? Besides how many times am I going to have to drag your half-dead body back to base for you to realise that you've made amends for your mistakes."

Kallus was quiet as he mulled over the General's words until the corner of his left cheek rose in the semblance of a smile."

"I'm not a kid." Kallus muttered.

"Then stop acting like an angst-ridden teenager and man up." Draven ordered, glad that at least of them could find happiness in this godforsaken war. And his suspicions about the former ex-imperial finally coming to and end.