The Ghost was quiet, the hum of hyperspace the only sound as they sped away from the Imperial ambush. Kallus sat alone in the cargo bay, still clutching the blaster he had taken from Ezra. His mind was in turmoil. He had saved Zeb—an act that defied everything he had been taught as an Imperial agent. But the Ghost crew, for all their kindness, had reason to doubt him. Maybe I should have fled when I had the chance.
The door slid open, and Kanan stepped in, his expression unreadable. "We're having a meeting," he said. "You're coming."
Kallus nodded, though a part of him wanted to refuse. His body felt heavy, like he was dragging himself toward something inevitable. He followed Kanan into the common area, where the rest of the crew was already waiting—Hera at the controls, Sabine leaning against a wall, Ezra sitting on one of the crates, and Zeb standing near the entrance with his arms crossed.
Tension filled the room. No one spoke at first, and Kallus could feel their eyes on him. It wasn't just suspicion—it was more than that. Something deeper.
Hera broke the silence, her voice calm but firm. "We need to talk about what happened back there, Kallus."
Kallus' throat tightened. He had been dreading this moment, but he knew it was coming. He glanced around the room, noting the mix of expressions. Ezra looked uncertain, Sabine was watching him carefully, and Zeb... Zeb was still unreadable, his gaze steady but not hostile. But it was Kanan and Hera he feared the most. They were the leaders, the ones who would decide his fate.
Kanan's voice was measured as he spoke. "We were ambushed, and you had a chance to escape. You didn't take it. Instead, you helped Zeb. We need to know why."
Kallus swallowed, his mind racing. Why? He wasn't sure of the answer himself. He had acted on impulse, something inside him snapping when he saw Zeb in danger. But that didn't make sense. He had been loyal to the Empire for so long—why would he save a Rebel?
"I..." Kallus struggled to find the words, his heart pounding. "I don't know. I didn't plan it. I just... acted."
Ezra shifted in his seat, his brow furrowed. "Acted how? You could've left. You could've turned us in."
Sabine cut in, her voice sharp. "Did you know the Empire was going to ambush us? Were you part of it?"
Kallus flinched. He had expected the question, but hearing it still stung. "No," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I didn't know. I swear."
Zeb, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "He saved my life, Sabine. Whatever his reasons, he didn't have to do that."
Kanan's gaze remained steady on Kallus. "That's what we need to understand. You've been loyal to the Empire your whole life. Now you're here, with us, and you're saying you don't know why?"
Kallus felt a knot of fear in his chest. He had never been this vulnerable. Not in front of enemies. Not even in front of his own people. He was an Imperial agent, a man of certainty and control, and now... now he was lost.
"I don't know who I am without the Empire," Kallus said, his voice barely a whisper. "Everything I've done, everything I've believed in... it's all been for them. But now..." His voice faltered, and for the first time in a long while, he felt raw fear—fear of the unknown, of who he would become if he let go of everything he had been.
"I didn't organize the ambush," he continued, his eyes pleading for them to understand. "I don't know why I helped Zeb. I just—when I saw that officer, it was like I couldn't let him shoot. I don't even know what that means."
The room was silent for a long moment. Hera studied him carefully, her green eyes soft but serious. She could see the fear behind his brave face—the conflict tearing him apart. She had been watching him for weeks, sensing the changes, the slow shift in his demeanor. Despite everything, she believed in the possibility of redemption.
"He's telling the truth," Hera said softly. "I don't think he planned this. I think he's still figuring it out."
Sabine frowned, clearly unconvinced. "Figuring it out doesn't mean we can trust him."
"No, it doesn't," Kanan agreed. "But it also doesn't mean we should throw him out of an airlock."
Kallus' stomach twisted. He didn't expect kindness, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. What did they want from him? Did they expect him to simply throw away his years of service to the Empire and join the Rebellion without question?
Ezra leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "So what now? Are you going to help us, Kallus? Or are you still loyal to the Empire?"
Kallus stared at the floor, unable to answer. He didn't know. How could he? The Empire had been his life—his identity. Without it, what was he? And yet, after what he had seen, after what the Ghost crew had shown him, could he go back? Could he really serve an Empire that hid the truth from its own people?
"I don't know," Kallus admitted, his voice hoarse. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
The silence that followed was suffocating. He expected them to throw him out, to call him a traitor, to leave him behind.
But they didn't.
Hera nodded, her expression softening. "We'll give you time to figure it out. But understand this, Kallus—we're not your enemies. The Empire... it isn't what you think it is. And deep down, you know that."
Kanan stepped forward, his tone serious but not unkind. "If you're going to stay with us, we need to know you're on our side. We're not asking for answers right now. Just... be honest with yourself."
Zeb grunted, giving Kallus a nod. "Take your time, mate. We've all been through it."
Kallus looked up at them, his chest tight with emotion. He wasn't sure what to say. A part of him still clung to the Empire, the only life he had ever known. But another part of him, the part that had saved Zeb, was growing louder, pushing him to question everything.
The meeting ended, and one by one, the crew filtered out, leaving Kallus alone with his thoughts. He sat in the quiet of the common area, the weight of everything pressing down on him.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure where he belonged. The certainty he had always held was gone, replaced by doubt and confusion. The Empire had been his identity, his purpose. Without it, he felt lost—vulnerable.
But the Ghost crew... they had given him something the Empire never had: a chance to think for himself. To choose.
As the ship continued its journey through hyperspace, Kallus remained seated, staring into the darkness, wondering where his path would take him next.
That night, as the crew slept, Kallus lay awake, wrestling with the questions he had tried so hard to avoid.
Who was he without the Empire?
And could he truly walk away from it?
Tomorrow, he would have to face those answers.
But tonight, he could rest.
