The base erupted in cheers as they got the news. General Syndulla’s pilots successfully destroyed their target. The shouts reverberated out across the vast, lush jungles of Yavin 4 as people savored a victory against the Empire. This early in the Rebel Alliance, victories were celebrated no matter how small.
Alexsandr Kallus watched the people revel together. New to this group and still untrusted because his former ties to the Empire, he chose to keep his distance. Still, he couldn’t help but to smile.
“Kal!” Zeb trotted out of the group and up to his friend. “Did you hear the news?”
Kallus nodded towards the celebration, “I can see the news. We won today.”
“Then why don’t you look happy ‘bout it?” the Lasat rested a hand on his hip.
“I am happy. Just because I’m not yelling like everyone else-“
“The only time I ever heard you yell was on that blasted ice planet when you thought those monsters were gonna eat you,” Zeb joked.
“I did think I was going to die staring at your ass,” Kallus chuckled, his hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head.
Zeb crossed his arms over his chest, “Come on. Give a yell.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Just a little one.”
Knowing that his friend wouldn’t let it go, Kallus sighed, took a short breath, and shouted a lackluster, “Woo!”
“That was pathetic,” Zeb snickered.
“Guess I’m a different type of Rebel then,” Kallus shrugged.
“How did you use to celebrate victories?”
Tensing as he remembered the old days in the Empire, which still felt so very recent, Kallus mumbled, “With a stiff drink.”
“We’ll do that then,” Zeb slapped him on the back and turned towards the mess hall.
Kallus smiled softly and followed. Unlike his time in the Empire, at least this time he would be drinking with a true friend.