Don’t Let Him Run

Here’s a short fic based after the events of Star Wars Rebels season four. SPOILERS BELOW!!! HEAVY ONES!!!

This focuses on Kanan and Hera’s child, Jacen Syndulla (or *shudders* “Broccoli Boy” ugghh fans. . . ). While I do not agree with or like the explanation of his existence, I do think I’ve reconciled myself to his presence. Or at least enough to write up a suitable enough short to post (I write many but post none).

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Hera Syndulla could convince anyone, anywhere, anytime she pleased into watching her child. No one knew how. She just did. Those with experience in the task quickly learned to steer clear of her. They valued the lives they lived.

Captain Rex, former clone trooper, and Alexsandr Kallus, ex-ISB agent, were two of these learned beings. On their coinciding free days, they met in the break room of the New Republic’s headquarters to play their beloved game of Dejarik. Unfortunately for them, Hera Syndulla knew where that was.

On this particular day, Hondo Ohnaka and his Ugnaught sidekick, Melch, had joined them. No one really knew how the shady Weequay had been allowed into the building, but no one really cared, either. Hondo knew how to make people laugh, something that Alexsandr had never seemed to learn. Because his opponent had been so busy laughing, Alexsandr had managed to win most of the games played. Meaning his mood was fairly bright.

That changed quickly.

Hera Syndulla strode into the room with the living terror known as Jacen Syndulla on her hip, and the peace turned tail and ran. Half a minute later, Hera Syndulla strode out of the room, leaving a green-haired boy on Rex’s lap and the time he was to be taken to Sabine in Alexsandr’s ear. Hondo and Melch she did not trust with her precious child.

“I knew I could count on you, boys!”

“I’m sure,” growled Alexsandr, turning to face the other three men. All four stood in silence until Rex deposited the boy on the table and stood.

“I guess that ends our game, eh?”
Alexsandr nodded, but a sly smile (quite Imperial) stretched across his lips.

“At least,” he replied, “I won.”

Jacen grinned disarmingly from face to face and clapped his hands expectantly.

“Game?” he quizzed, reaching for Rex, who seemed considerably flustered.

“Game?” he began but was interrupted by Hondo.

“My friends, my friends,” he began in his roundabout, beat-around-the-bush style, “not that it hasn’t been fun (for indeed it has, oh yes?), but I do fear. . . I believe. . . Melch and I, we have an, um, contact (yes, contact!) with, er. . . someone, here. . . oh yes, someone on a far, far away planet, yes. Far away.” He inched toward the door. “Now I do hate saying goodbye, but. . .” He hurtled through the doorway, Melch in tow, and his faint voice, already halfway to the turbolift, floated back: “goodbye!”

The remaining trio watched the door for half a moment. Alexsandr then cleared his throat. “I do believe,” he muttered, deep in thought, “that we could pass off the duty onto another shoulders. . .”

Rex laughed and shook his grizzled head. “No, I don’t believe so. The Captain would make quite a fuss – and I suspect that our little charge here might do the same.”

At that moment, Jacen chose to make his dramatic transition from table to floor. A short, delighted squeak broke from his lips as he clambered to the edge. Rex and Alexsandr pounced to grab him but ended up crashing headlong into each other. Jacen paused for a moment to examine them. He chuckled evilly in imitation of his droid “brother” Chopper, then dropped himself over the edge. Rex lunged forwards, landing on his back with the child on his chest. The boy crawled up until he could pat the rough cheeks of the clone and smiled.

“I flew, Rex!”

No, I flew, Rex groaned internally, but made himself smile. “At least he’s okay, hey?”

Alexsandr shook his head. “Yes, good, but what are we to do with him? He will surely be bored here.”

Oblivious to the trouble he was causing, Jacen poked a finger at Rex’s nose.

“Hey now, soldier!” Rex protested, grabbing at the little hand. Jacen giggled and obeyed, sliding off of Rex onto the ground. “At least he’s smart,” muttered Alexsandr, as he relieved Rex of the child, and Jacen heartily agreed.

“I smart, I smart!”
Rex laughed heartily, frustration forgotten, and thumped his chin.

“He’s a good kid, eh, Kallus?”

Alexsandr shook his head again, slowly and mumbled “he has you wrapped around his finger, clone.” At that moment, Jacen Syndulla, son of Hera Syndulla, war heroine, daughter of Cham Syndulla, sung Liberator of Ryloth, decided he no longer wanted to be held. He sunk his pointed Twi’lek teeth into Alexsandr Kallus’ hand, dodged the grasp of Captain Rex, and shot off like a Nexu on Nerf scent.

“Where’d he go?”
“You were holding him!”
“He bit me!”
“You let him?”

“You didn’t catch him?”

Childish laughter interrupted them.

Two heads swiveled and caught sight of the runaway, peeking around a corner.

“There he is!”

Jacen squealed happily, finally getting to play a game, and tore around the corner and down the hall. The two older men followed, boots pounding the metal ground. “Fun game!”
Rex shook his head.

“NO, little soldier, NOT a fun game!”

Abruptly, the running ceased as Jacen swung through a doorway and disappeared. Rex and Alexsandr followed. A large crowd of data technicians, all on lunch break, stood in clusters throughout a large room. Small adjoining rooms sold various foods. The place was a perfect hiding spot for a mischievous child. No Jacen was to be seen. They exchanged a wide-eyed, fearful glance.

“The Captain’s going to kill us. . .” whispered Alexsandr. Rex sighed. “Erh, let’s split up. I’ll take the main room, you take the vending rooms.”

He stormed into the midst of the crowd, shouting about whether anyone seen a lost green-haired baby.

“So disorderly,” Alexsandr muttered. He strolled casually towards the vending rooms, keeping a cautious eye out for the boy. “Jacen Syndulla, come out this instant,” he called, unsure as to how to properly call a child (perhaps I should look that up later for future reference, he thought), “your mother is going to be very upset when she hears you ran from me.”

Bright, childish laughter met his ears, followed by an all-too-familiar cackle of Lasat laughter.

Utterly relieved, he half-ran the last few steps into the nearest room and found Jacen enthroned upon the knee of Garazeb Orrelios (commonly known as Zeb), captain of the New High Lasat Honor Guard.

“Oh, Garazeb, it is you,” he sighed, “it is good to see you have found the child.”

Zeb grinned widely, revealing pointed fangs that gleamed in the dim light.

“Oh, lost ‘im, did you, agent? Good, good. Hera’s gonna kill you,” he teased, turning to Jacen, “right kit?”

Jacen clapped in dark glee, watching Alexsandr’s expression closely. “Yup! All full of blaster! Momma shoot you all full!”

Both boys seemed delighted with the pale wash that spread over Alexsandr’s face.

“Eh, he’s just kidding, agent. Live a li’tle.”

Alexsandr managed a tired smile and held out his arms.

“I’m not sure I am the only one in trouble,” he said, “for you did run away.”
At the word “run,” Jacen’s eyes glowed and he hugged the fuzzy arm holding him.

“Run?”

Both men caught at the child, keeping him still.

“NO, no more running.”

Just then, the comm at Zeb’s belt buzzed. “Oh great,” he grumbled, “eh, kit, I’ll see you later, okay? I have a big-people meeting.”

Jacen’s ever-present smile vanished in a heartbeat. He processed this information.

“No Zebby?”

Zeb frowned, dreading the reaction the child would give to his words.

“Sorry, kit. I have to work.”

Jacen’s eyes, bright and round, shut tight as he let out a loud scream. “STAY!”

Zeb and Alexsandr both drew sharp breaths.

“I can’t, kit.”

“No, Zebby, STAY!”

“I can’t!”
Completely upset, Jacen yelled his anger and latched onto Zeb’s foot.

“STAY! ZEBBY! STAY!”

He burst into ear-piercingly loud, screaming cries. Both covered their ears and made futile attempts to calm him.

“ZEBBY STAY!” he cried over and over again. Rex rushed in, having heard the cries from the larger room.

“I see you found him!”
Sarcastic clones. . . “Yes, so good of you to notice!”

Zeb growled in frustration and shoved the boy at Rex. “’Ere,” his voice echoed over the noise, “I got a briefing to be at. Make ‘im hush!”

Jacen’s screams practically reverberated off the walls as he watched Zeb make his retreat. Multiple heads, curious and concern, began to poke in.

“Under control, under control,” Rex hollered as he shoved the boy at Alexsandr, “go back to your lunch!”

Jacen squalled at being so roughly transferred into another arms and bit angrily at the hands restraining him. Alexsandr gritted his teeth. “Someone do something,” he growled, then added under his breath, “I am never babysitting for the Captain again.”

It was at that moment that rescue arrived.

Rescue had purple hair, annoyance in her eyes, and both hands on her hips.
“What in the galaxy is the matter with you, Jacen Syndulla?

Jacen shut his mouth with a clap and turned to stare.

“BEAN!” he screamed in excitement after a moment, wiggling wildly to be set down.

What a relief, Rex breathed.

Sabine Wren, child of Mandalore, and Guardian of Lothal and the wishes of its lost child, Ezra Bridger, strode into the room and promptly held out her arms for Jacen. “Saved by the Wren,” muttered Alexsandr as he unreluctantly gave up his armload.

“BEAN!”
Sabine groaned in protest, precariously balancing the child in one arm to affectedly rub her ear.

“Noise levels, Jay! My ears are crying!”

He giggled and gently patted her ear, speaking almost in a whisper so as to not hurt her poor ear again.

“I sowry, Bean. I is.”

She gave him a little squeeze and tapped his cheek.

“Now tell me, Jay, what is all this noise about, huh?”

He smiled placidly and waved a hand towards the door. “Zebby had to leave.”

Rex and Alexsandr exchanged astonished looks and made to speak. Sabine lifted her hand for silence and set Jacen on the small bench, sitting next to him.

“You shouldn’t scream that loud, Jay. It hurts people.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

Having apparently finished discussing the matter, Sabine changed the subject.

“Were you good for Rex and Kallus? Other than screaming them deaf, that is?”

Jacen nodded enthusiastically, stealing a glance in their direction to judge their reactions. “Uh huh, Bean!”

Sabine nodded slowly and gave the child a long, thoughtful gaze.

“You know,” she began, “I probably shouldn’t ask, but. . .”

Jacen eye’s widened and his smile grew. “Yes?”

Sabine flashed a wide grin to the men behind her and turned back to Jacen. “Were they good?” she whispered, just loudly enough so that they could hear. His pointy grin reminded her of the loth-cats that permeated her tower home.

“Nope, Bean! Bad!”

Sabine clicked her tongue, glancing behind her for the men’s expressions. Outraged and utter confusion mixed made her laugh aloud. “Bad? How were they bad?”

Jacen frowned, thinking. He pursed his lips and searched his limited vocabulary for the right word. Finally, he remarked solemnly; “They un-smart, Bean. Un-smart.”

Sabine barely suppressed her laughter at his term. “How’s that, Jay?”

He stared seriously at her.

“They let me run.”

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Written by Kitten. Star Wars is owned by Disney. Please don’t steal this, and ask before reposting!