The Ghost sailed smoothly through hyperspace, the hum of the engines a familiar background noise to its crew. They were heading back to their hidden base, the mission behind them now, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a sense of calm.
Kallus sat quietly in the common area, his injuries still healing but far less severe now. Hera had insisted that he rest, but Kallus found it easier to be around the crew these days, even if the atmosphere still carried a hint of cautious distance. He had proved himself on the mission, and though he wouldn't openly admit it, the fact that they had begun to trust him brought him a quiet sense of satisfaction.
As the crew gathered around the table, snacking on what rations they had, the conversation started light—banter about the mission, Sabine critiquing Imperial ship design, Ezra and Zeb recounting old adventures. But eventually, the topic shifted, and Kallus, still sitting at the edge of the group, found himself becoming the center of attention.
Ezra leaned back in his chair, looking at Kallus curiously. "You know, we still don't know much about you," he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "You're always so secretive. What was your life like before the Empire?"
The question caught Kallus off guard. He glanced around the room, noticing the others' subtle interest. Hera and Kanan sat at the far end of the table, quietly observing. Sabine was tinkering with a piece of equipment, but even she glanced up, intrigued. Zeb stood against the wall, arms crossed, but his gaze was focused on Kallus, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I..." Kallus started, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his past—it was just that the memories were difficult. He had never been one to share personal details, even with his closest Imperial colleagues. And now, with these Rebels? He wasn't sure where to begin.
"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Kanan said softly, sensing Kallus' hesitation. "We just... we don't really know you. Not yet."
Kallus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't owe them anything. And yet, a part of him felt the need to bridge the gap that still lingered between them. After everything they'd been through, after the trust he had earned, maybe it was time to let them in—just a little.
"My family," Kallus said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "they were loyal to the Empire. They believed in order, in control. I... believed that too, for a long time."
Hera tilted her head, her green eyes soft but curious. "And now?"
Kallus hesitated, the weight of everything he had experienced pressing down on him. He had turned his back on the Empire in ways he never thought possible, but fully admitting that still felt like a betrayal of the person he once was.
"Now... things are different," he admitted, his voice low. "I see things I didn't before. The Empire isn't what I thought it was. It's not about order or peace—it's about control. And it took me too long to realize that."
Ezra nodded, leaning forward. "What about your family now? Do they still...?"
Kallus clenched his jaw, the memories of his family flashing before his eyes. "My family... they're gone. They didn't survive the early wars. The Empire was all I had after that."
The room grew quiet, the weight of his words settling over the group. Kallus had never spoken about this before—not to anyone. But here, surrounded by these people, these Rebels who had become something more than mere allies, it felt like the right time.
Sabine broke the silence, her voice lighter, as if sensing the need to ease the tension. "Okay, heavy stuff aside—what about interests? Surely there's more to you than just military tactics."
Kallus blinked, surprised by the shift. "Interests?"
"Yeah," Ezra chimed in, grinning. "Like, do you have any hobbies? You know, things you actually enjoy doing?"
For the first time in a while, Kallus felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. It was a strange question, one he hadn't given much thought to in years. His life had been so consumed by duty, by the Empire, that he had forgotten what it was like to enjoy anything outside of that.
"I... used to enjoy art," he admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Before everything... I would sketch sometimes. Nothing too elaborate."
Sabine's eyes lit up. "Art? Now that's something we can bond over!" She grinned, waving her hands animatedly. "You should've told me sooner. Maybe I'll teach you some techniques sometime."
Kallus raised an eyebrow, amused by her enthusiasm. "Perhaps."
Zeb, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke, his tone a bit teasing but not unkind. "Didn't think a stiff like you had any 'interests.' Always figured you for one of those 'by-the-book' types."
Kallus smirked, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie in the room, even if the teasing was a bit at his expense. "I suppose I've been full of surprises lately."
Hera smiled warmly. "It's nice to know there's more to you than just the soldier we met."
There was a pause, the conversation drifting into a comfortable silence as Kallus looked around at the crew. He didn't feel the need to share everything—there were still parts of his past he wasn't ready to revisit, and maybe never would. But for now, this was enough. He had opened a door, just a crack, and that seemed to satisfy their curiosity.
As the crew resumed their chatter, talking about future missions, Kallus leaned back in his seat, a quiet satisfaction settling over him. He was still getting used to this—being part of something so different from the Empire, something that felt more like a family than a military unit.
And while he didn't say it out loud, the feeling of belonging, of being trusted and accepted, was something Kallus hadn't realized he needed so much.
He wasn't sure what the future held, but for now, surrounded by these people who had become more than just comrades, Kallus felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.
He felt at home.
