Star Wars Rebels: When Hope Is Lost

Chapter 35: Last Stand

Hera watched from behind a crate, stunned mostly from the fast turn of events, as Ahsoka dragged Kanan down another hallway. Dev, Kanan's son, followed in hot pursuit, his eyes an eery yellow compared to the green he had had before, when Hera had once met him. The Sith chuckled, then cape swishing, marched down the hallway the way he had came and disappeared from sight around a bend. Believing that they would perish in his absence.

He was about to be proven wrong.

"Take out the stormtroopers!" Hera shouted. "They're our biggest obstacle right now!" Her comlink buzzed, but she ignored it. She had bigger problems to deal with right now–like not dying.

"On it!" Zeb yelled, bow-rifle blazing lasers. All of her crew was fighting hard against the stormtroopers. Bullets were spraying everywhere, although Hera noticed the absence of colourful explosions immediately. Blasters were the only weapons they had now.

But it was their last stand. They would do–or die. Win the battle–or perish.

Save their family–or be ripped apart from each other.

There had been twelve stormtroopers when the first shots had rang out. The stormtroopers had immediately fallen back, as soon as the rebels had fired themselves. Everyone had taken cover behind wooden and metal crates randomly splayed on the sides of the hallways. Now, there were eight stormtroopers remaining. No, seven now. Rex's expert sniping was proving handy.

Zeb roared loudly on the other side of the hallway and defeated another trooper with his bow-rifle. Hera looked over, firing a bullet of her own as cover for her glance, and saw why he had yelled. The Lasat had been shot in the shoulder. Blood seeped through his shoulder armour, and he grimaced, trying to hold up his heavy weapon to fire again.

Hera crawled frantically across the hallway to him, miraculously not getting hit. Nothing could come between her and her crew-mates, especially when one of them was injured.

"Zeb!" Hera exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

Upon hearing her voice, the Lasat turned away from her, trying to hide the bloody wound. Honestly, he was just like Kanan. Always determined to fight until the end, despite anything that was thrown in his way. They were short-circuited droids on autopilot, and Hera swore that they would kill themselves this way.

"Good grief, Zeb, let me see!" She pulled at his non-injured arm.

"Karabast! Hera, I'm alright. Honest!"

"No, you're not! You were shot, Zeb! You can't fight like this!"

"I have to!"

Suddenly, every stormtrooper fell to the ground under a bullet. All the rebels looked up in shock to see who their rescuer was, expecting Kanan or Ahsoka, or maybe even Ezra.

"I don't believe it," Sabine breathed.

Zeb spoke in fluent Lasan.

"Agent Kallus?" Hera said, absolutely shocked to her core.

The familiar Imperial stood there, bow-rifle in his hands, five total Imperial officers and stormtroopers with him.

"No, you don't have to fight like that." Kallus smiled slightly. He turned to his companions. "Secure the area." He commanded.

"Yes sir!" They all replied, saluting, and raced off in different directions, scattering past the rebels, who watched in silent shock.

Sabine was the first to react. In a flash, she had leaped over her crate and had her blaster aimed at Kallus, the last remaining Imperial. "Drop your weapon."