Title: Ghosts
Author: Kaitan ISB-021
Timeframe: SW Rebels TV series, set after "An Inside Man" and before "Warhead" [note: Season 2 & 3/thru Jan '17 spoilers, but written & posted prior to "Through Imperial Eyes"]
Characters: Agent Kallus, Governor Arihnda Pryce, Grand Admiral Thrawn, reference to female OCs, reference to Zeb and Ghost crew, reference to Swain (Star Wars Rebels magazine story), minor reference to Jovan (Star Wars Rebels magazine story).
Characterization: inter-episode backstory/headcanon, new-canon-compliant
Genre: short fiction; can stand alone, but part of series that includes "Truth," to which it makes brief reference.
Chapters: 3 (complete)
Audience: T. Appropriate for older children. No explicit violence or other content warnings; reference to previous series canon violence and canon-consistent violence (i.e., Onderon killings, Lasan massacre, Imperial deaths).
Summary: After he has secretly helped the rebels escape the factory on Lothal, Agent Kallus receives unwelcome attention of an entirely unexpected sort from Governor Pryce. Their meetings evoke powerful memories from his past-and concern for his future.
Chapter 1
Governor Pryce followed a few steps behind Agent Kallus as they were dismissed from Thrawn's briefing room gallery, but as the agent left the room, the Chiss placed a hand firmly on Pryce's arm.
"Stay, Governor, if you would."
He walked through the gallery of rebel images, stopped to examine the graffito of the Phoenix Squadron once again, and then turned to face her.
"Governor. I have a special…job for you. For the Empire."
"At your service, Grand Admiral."
Agent Kallus stared blankly at the datapad on his desk, letting his mind drift for the thousandth time that rotation. His recent escapade with Jarrus and his padawan Bridger had ended well enough for the rebels, but he knew that their escape had put him on Thrawn's all-too-sensitive radar. He was certain that Thrawn suspected him of treason, but for some reason, he had not yet pursued his suspicions directly. Kallus rubbed his hand over his face. It had been several rotations since the uncomfortable meeting with Thrawn, but since then—for the time being, anyway—the Admiral had left him alone to do his work. He had tried to take refuge in the banalities of his job: datapads and paperwork. But even those couldn't distract him, either from his self-appointed task for the rebels or from the threat that loomed large over him. His body was like a taut thread, and he felt ready to snap.
It was no surprise, then, that when his office door com buzzed, Kallus practically fell out of his chair. He scrambled to grab his datapad to keep it from clattering to the floor. Then he breathed deeply, steadied himself, and responded with what he hoped was an entirely unremarkable "enter."
The door slid open, and, much to his surprise, a smiling Governor Pryce entered his office, dressed not in her standard uniform tunic but in a blue-green iridescent one. He rose and nodded curtly.
"Governor Pryce."
"Agent Kallus. You are working rather late, aren't you?" She paused, awaiting his reply with a smile that, on another person, might have passed for friendly. On her, however, it only registered as smug.
After what he hoped was an uncomfortably long silence, he returned a thin smile. "Not particularly, no."
Another pause hung in the air, and Pryce looked distinctly uneasy. He didn't, at the moment, have any inclination to relieve her discomfort. He willed her to leave, wishing he shared the Jedi ability to influence the weak-minded. But then she seemed to remember why she had come.
"Well, at any rate, one has to eat, does one not? I thought perhaps you'd like to join me at Fari, the new restaurant around the corner from the Imperial Academy. Rumor has it that their chef—Human, of course—specializes in Coruscanti dishes. That is your home world, is it not? And you seem to me to be a man of"—she waggled her eyebrows—"discriminating tastes."
Kallus's eyes widened. It took him a moment to process the information before him. The attempt at friendliness. The non-military clothing. The invitation to dinner. The awkward eyebrow movements. Was she attempting to….flirt with him?
He watched her tilt her head demurely. Yes: this was a terribly clumsy attempt at flirtation, but flirtation nonetheless. It was puzzling. And disturbing. Horrifying, even. He could, in fact, at that moment imagine few things that would be less pleasant to him than an evening with the Governor. An art gallery opening with Thrawn, perhaps, or sabre practice with Lord Vader? When they weren't openly hostile toward one another, he tolerated Pryce's presence—and he always imagined that the feeling, or lack thereof, was mutual. Now she was fluttering her eyelashes at him in a most unseemly manner.
He realized that something was amiss. Her behavior felt entirely forced; there must be some reason for it, and he needed to know what was behind it. And, of course, in his current position, he could not afford to alienate her. He couldn't afford the enemies he had, much less any new ones. He straightened, took a deep breath, and managed to shoot her his most debonair smile.
"I'd be honored, Governor."
She looked positively gleeful at his response. "Excellent, Agent Kallus. I suspect you'd like to change into your civilian clothes? I'll meet you at the street level entrance in 20 minutes."
"Certainly, Governor."
She turned on her heel, temporarily forgetting her flirtatious act, and marched out of his office.
Heading to his quarters to trade his military tunic for plain black shirt, Kallus realized he had lost his appetite. Entirely.