Author's Note: I created this story concept pretty much the day I saw the Season 3 finale, but didn't bother to write it at that point. I figured we'd get a Kallus-centric episode in Season 4, focusing on the fall-out of his defection, that would negate my story.

That never happened.

So I reconfigured the story details slightly, and created a canon-compliant/stand-alone story that fits within the timeframe created by Season 4.

Enjoy!

CONFLICT OF INTEREST

Chapter One

The dappled blue and white of hyperspace whirled irregularly around the octagonal Corellian VCX-100 spacecraft that traversed it, the characteristic muted whistling sound of faster-than-light travel sounding against its hull. Legally known as the Ghost, the light freighter appeared slightly battered upon closer inspection. Minor dents left marks at intervals across its grayish-tan metal exterior, a few dangerously close to the small, bulbous transparisteel windows that marked the gunners' turrets.

Through the cargo bay viewport at the rear and inside the ship itself, the whistling was reduced to a soft hum for the room's sole occupant: a moss-green Twi'lek in a tan mechanic's jumpsuit, with matching goggles perched atop her head. She had her back to the view, all attention fixed on the rectangular communications device in her hand. "How are things going with Sabine's clan?" she asked.

Hera Syndulla watched as the tiny, blue-toned, three-dimensional hologram of a ponytailed adult Human folded his arms, rubbing slightly at his beard with one hand. Briefly, she wished that she could see his face more clearly; between the half-mask he was wearing over his eyes and the size of the holo, it wasn't the best representation. "Pretty good," he replied, his voice echoing slightly. "The Mandalorians aren't too keen on having Jedi for allies, but I think they're warming up. Plus," he added, unfolding his arm fully to gesture, "I think we may finally have that intel breakthrough we've been looking for." The man smiled. "How are things on the Ghost?"

"Running well with the temporary crew," she admitted, tapered twin head-tails twitching slightly behind her shoulders. "Rex works well with Zeb on the guns, AP-5 has taken over inventory, and Kallus is my new co-pilot. He's also nearing the end of his Alliance probation."

Kanan huffed, folding his arms again. "That was unnecessary in the first place." No one who had seen Kallus beaten and bloodied, working as hard as any of the uninjured to help the survivors despite his own wounds, could ever doubt his loyalty. Unfortunately, this included only a smattering of soldiers outside the Phoenix cell and a single member of Rebel Command.

"Which is why he's on the Ghost," Hera reminded him. "At least here he's allowed to pull his own weight instead of sitting somewhere filing datawork."

He grimaced. "Yeah." A shout from off-holo caught his attention, and Kanan turned his head to the side in response before adding quickly, "Got to go. See you, Hera." The comm. image flickered and disappeared.

Hera pocketed the comm. and walked under the balcony leading to the second level, through the rounded-top automatic door that slid open as she neared it, and down the hall toward the lounge, from which she could hear the distinct tones of a self-satisfied Imperial broadcaster.

"…earlier this week. Admiral Thrawn announced his support for Governor Pryce's call for higher security measures in response to tragedy on Lothal, with the deaths of both Admiral Konstantine and Agent Kallus at the hands of Rebel insurgents –"

She entered the room as a large, purple-furred Lasat leaned to shut off the broadcast, the holographic Imperial cog and pompous Imperial voice disappearing back into the room's central table with a faint electronic whine.

The stocky, armored Human male seated on the table's left rolled his brown eyes at the broadcaster's words, turning with a smirk to where another Human with dark hair and squared sideburns sat across the table from him. "Looks like you made quite an impression. They hate you so much they have to kill you in effigy."

"I believe it's more that they can't admit I defected, Rex," Kallus pointed out in reply, his expression combined amusement at the quip and disgust at the subject. "I was in ISB, which means I had access to more information than most. They are unable to admit my change of allegiance without also admitting something is wrong with the Empire itself."

Sitting between the two, Zeb snorted as his feline-like ears curled at the tips, flattened face mirroring the disgust on his friend's. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"In any case, I need you at your stations," Hera interjected. "We'll be coming up on Rantoon any minute."

"Excellent," a human-resembling inventory droid intoned from the doorway, his extended, rectangular mouth grill glowing a dull red with each syllable. "The Atollon survivors are in desperate need of supplies."

"That's why we're here," Rex stretched and stood up from his seat, slapping AP-5's dark-gray shoulder plating with his right hand as he passed. "Get the supplies, get out – just your ordinary supply run."

"With our track record, that means it will immediately descend into chaos," AP-5 retorted. He turned and walked away the way Hera had come.

Zeb winced. "I hope he didn't just jinx us," he muttered under his breath, following Rex.

Kallus made a move to stand, but Hera shook her head slightly at him. A moment later Kallus and Hera were the only ones left in the room. Hera took a deep breath to brace herself before addressing her crewmate. "With you officially declared dead," she began, "is there any chance they'll leave it at that?"

Kallus shook his head, arms folded loosely on the tabletop as his brown eyes glanced up to meet her own. "Unlikely," he replied. "ISB will probably be informed, if only so they can prevent such things in the future. I don't see the Empire leaving me at large as long as they hold out hope of my recapture."

"That's what I thought," Hera sighed. "We'll just have to make sure they don't. No unnecessary risks until we know for certain what the Empire is up to."

Kallus nodded. "Agreed."

The streaks of hyperspace thickened, then disappeared entirely as the sight from the cockpit window resolved into a reddish moon. "Well, there it is. Rantoon," Hera announced to her crew. Automatically her green eyes scanned their surroundings: a yellow gas giant with a rocky asteroid belt, which Rantoon orbited; a small sun; and a backdrop of space filled with millions of stars. No space traffic to worry about at the moment. Rantoon itself, she knew, was an inhabited moon, possessing a manufactured atmosphere and a weaving orange mountain range which gradually came into view as they approached. Briefly, Hera wondered if the coloration was natural or the result of some disaster. So many worlds were disaster- and war-torn anymore she wouldn't dare to hazard a guess.

AP-5, relegated to the cargo bay by default, cared nothing for the view of the world below and voiced his impatience over the communication system, drawing Hera out of speculation. "If I may, the longer we stay in orbit, the more likely we'll be observed."

"Understood, AP-5," Hera acknowledged, "but we need to know the lay of the land first." She glanced at her co-pilot, who was already connecting his datapad to the communications console, then back at the comm. link itself. "Just make sure those signal scramblers are full power; no point in risking more than we have to."

"An obvious conclusion," AP-5 dismissed.

Hera rolled her eyes and turned back to Kallus. "I know we went over this before leaving, but explain again what we're dealing with here."

"There's a garrison only a few kliks away from our rendezvous. We'll want to avoid the eastern continent if an emergency arises – they're in the middle of a civil war the Empire has no interest in mediating," the ex-Imperial clarified. "We don't want to risk an unfriendly reception or draw attention to ourselves."

"What about our landing zone?" Rex's voice questioned. Rex himself – one of many Human duplicates of a single man named Jango Fett – was likely checking the controls in his gunner's turret as he spoke, making sure he would be prepared to fight at a moment's notice.

"It appears to be clear," Kallus answered him. He swiped through what appeared to be transcripts of garrison troop communications on the datapad, and Hera very deliberately didn't think about how he'd accessed them. "No local festivals, so trooper presence is low. The people here aren't fond of the Empire but tolerate them."

"Is that 'don't care they're here' or 'wish they weren't here'?" Zeb's voice asked dryly.

Kallus smirked, unseen by the Lasat on the other end. "I believe it may be a bit of both," he replied. "Our contact would seem to be of the latter variety."

"I know our contact personally, and he's no more fond of the Empire than we are," Hera confirmed.

Kallus continued to leaf through the communications, pausing for a long moment on one. Hera looked up sharply to see Kallus's expression change from mild amusement to deep concern. "Kallus? What is it?"

Kallus exhaled and shook his head. "I apologize."

Realizing at a glance that she would learn nothing from him at the moment, Hera took the datapad in one gloved hand and scrutinized it. Kallus surrendered it without comment. His arms folded and one hand came up to clasp his bare chin, a blank expression on his face.

Hera looked up from her reading and asked one question. "Kallus, is this legitimate?"

Her companion gave her a troubled glance. "These are all communications from the local garrison. That one must have been misfiled – it should be a priority clearance – but it was sent hours ago."

"What's wrong?" Zeb's voice demanded from the speaker.

Hera took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, then took the yoke and turned her ship away from the world below and toward the asteroid belt.

"What – The rendezvous is that way!" Rex protested.

"I know. We'll have to delay that a bit." Hera chose an asteroid large enough to conceal the Ghost and engaged the magnetic clamps, locking them onto its surface. "Everyone to the main room. We have something… new to discuss."

"Like what?" Zeb growled.

Hera pursed her lips. "It seems we may have another Fulcrum agent to rescue."

The temporary Ghost crew gathered minutes later. Hera stood in front of the projection table; Kallus sat to her right, while Zeb slouched on the opposite side of the table, flanked at his right by a standing Rex. AP-5 stood near the door, the last to arrive.

"This is a trap," Zeb growled, pointed ears curling at the tips with discomfort. "Kallus is here. He escaped." His tone added that anyone trying to change that would go through him.

"And Commander Tano's not the one they're talking about," Rex interjected in a grave, if slightly regretful tone. He looked around at the others, full white beard bristling below his bald head. "They specifically said 'he' would pay for his crimes. Besides," he added dryly, "they'd be making more of a fuss over a non-Human Jedi than a spy if that were the case."

"There are other Fulcrum agents besides Lothal's," Hera replied pointedly. "Besides which we can hardly afford to lose an agent at this point – we're shorthanded enough as it is. But you're right, this could be a trap for Kallus."

"So who do they have?" Zeb asked. Attempting to lighten the atmosphere, he quipped, "He have a double running around the galaxy somewhere?" He nudged Rex, who snorted.

Kallus let out a huff that might have been intended as a laugh. "Not that I'm aware of. No," he continued, sobering, "there is actually one more being I know personally who could be prosecuted as Fulcrum."

"Well, there's you," Rex began slowly, "and there's Ahsoka."

Hera glanced up sharply. "And," she added, her eyes narrowing, "there's Lieutenant Lyste."

Zeb's already-large green eyes widened even further. "What? Him? Why would the Empire kill one of their own officers?" Kallus gave him a flat look. "Well, besides you."

Rex face-palmed.

"Because I framed him so I could remain in position as Fulcrum," Kallus replied shortly. "With my supposed death, they have to account for Fulcrum in some way – and Lyste knows he's not the guilty party, which means he could be considered a loose end. But with my arrest, on far more than circumstantial evidence, he should have been unquestionably cleared." The frustration in his voice was evident. "Even if I were dead, they have no legal standing for it unless they believe him to be an accomplice." He sighed. "Perhaps I should have accepted when you first offered extraction."

"If you had, we all would have died," Zeb pointed out gruffly. "And so would the Lothal Rebel cell and who knows how many innocent people who got caught in the fight."

Kallus nodded faintly in acknowledgement. He knew all of this logically; he'd spent many painstaking nights categorically tearing apart every detail he knew in search of what had gone wrong. They all knew there was nothing more he could have done to change the outcome at the Battle of Atollan.

In the face of a possibly related casualty, though…

"And instead I may have sent an innocent man to his death," the new Rebel replied heavily. Visibly bracing himself, he looked up at Hera. "I'll follow your lead on whatever you decide, Captain Syndulla."

"No." Hera put her hands on her hips. "We'll follow your lead." As his eyes widened, she put a gloved hand on his shoulder. "If this checks out, it's intel our sources completely missed. I've almost lost crewmembers to lacking intel before," Hera continued firmly, "and I don't appreciate flying blind when we don't have to. You know Fulcrum network and Imperial protocol better than any of us. How we continue will ultimately be your decision." Her shoulders fell slightly. "The execution is scheduled for tomorrow."

With Kallus still staring at Hera in shock and gratitude, Zeb gave him a commiserating glance and deliberately moved on to the next stage – the idea pool. "Well, I say the Rebel leaders can just wait on their extra blankets. Can we meet him somewhere else later?"

"Those 'blankets' are for the Phoenix survivors, among others," Hera countered, "and no, this is a one time opportunity."

"If we stay, there's a chance that they'll figure out Kallus is here and try to kill him instead," Rex pointed out, "if that wasn't their plan in the first place."

"No one deserves to die like that," Zeb muttered, arms folded. "We're not seriously going to leave the guy there, are we?"

"The prisoner may be Imperial," Hera reminded him. "Especially if it's a set-up."

"We can't just leave him there, especially if there's a chance he's actually guilty," retorted Rex – then he sighed. "But I do agree we need the supplies."

AP-5 shook his head and informed them, "Given the timing, chances of the execution subject being Lieutenant Lyste are quite high. Other possibilities are a different man framed for the crime, a Fulcrum agent we were not aware of, a look-alike mistaken for Kallus, or an actor placed by the Empire to play the part. But if I may advise, it is still likely to be a trap."

"But most likely with either a Rebel agent or an innocent man as bait," Hera concluded flatly. She sighed and changed the subject back to its intended focus. "I have other contacts I could use – it's possible we could get our supplies elsewhere, but probably less and lower quality. There are some back at base who might not survive without the right kind of bacta."

Zeb cursed as he connected the dots, hitting the table with one striped forearm. "How are we supposed to choose?" he demanded. His deep voice became slightly hoarse as he added, "Either way, someone dies."

"What if it doesn't have to be a choice…" Kallus suddenly spoke aloud. Instantly finding himself the center of attention, he continued tersely, "I'm fairly certain we are all in agreement to remain here – correct?" He glanced around to see nods from all sides. "We've been planning this as if we have to choose between the mission and the life of a possible Rebel spy. But what if we can do both?"

There was silence for a moment before Rex chuckled, his arms crossed. "Now that's thinking worthy of a Rebel. What do you have in mind?"

Kallus reached under the table, fiddling with the controls a moment before the three-dimensional holographic display came to life to show a map of their target city. With a quick tap on the image it zoomed in on Imperial headquarters. "First we need to know who the prisoner is and where they're holding him – or not holding, if it is someone hired to play a part. Meanwhile, we meet with our contact and begin loading." He looked at Rex. "Which is where we need to discuss what to do next, should it be Lyste or a Rebel agent."

The Clone looked thoughtful, stroking his beard. "I'd say we try to break him out."

"Wait a minute," Hera interjected in alarm. "If it is Lyste, we're trying to help, not make things worse. If the Rebellion comes to his rescue, it will only confirm the charges to the Empire."

Zeb shrugged. "So? I thought Kallus said Lyste was one of the more likely Rebel-types. We'd just be skipping a step."

"I meant 'at some future point' – if then – certainly not now!" Kallus exclaimed. "He's just as blindly loyal to the Empire as I once was, and given the circumstances he has no reason to trust the Rebellion or its members."

"I suppose there is one other option," AP-5 interjected in bored tones.

"Which is?" Hera raised one black eyebrow.

"Warning him."

Kallus's own eyebrows shot up along with those of everyone else in the room before he exchanged a glance with Hera, who was beginning to nod thoughtfully. "You're in charge, Kallus," she reminded him. "Our next move is up to you."

Deep in thought, Kallus missed the quick, concerned glance between Rex and Zeb. Hera noticed the glance and narrowed her eyes at them.

"All right," Kallus began, drawing their attention back, "before we make any further decision, we need to know who the Empire is holding, or if they are. I believe AP-5 would be the most inconspicuous for that role." The dubious look he shot in the droid's direction spoke otherwise, but at least Chopper wasn't here to make things worse. "Captain Syndulla will be needed aboard the Ghost to make contact with our supplier, and we'll need someone with her to help load."

"I'll do that," Rex suggested.

Kallus shook his head. "We need at least two of us on standby in case we need to enter the base."

Zeb started to raise a hand and Kallus cocked his head slightly, a long-suffering look on his face as he looked at Zeb's full-body purple fur, sleeveless jumpsuit, and height that towered over most sentients. Zeb hesitated, then sheepishly lowered his hand.

The ex-agent cleared his throat, betraying his nervousness. "Given the circumstances, I believe it would be best if Captain Rex and myself were the ones to be on standby. We'll need to repossess a low-grade officer's uniform and a set of stormtrooper armor."

Zeb frowned. "Your face could blow the whole thing," he remarked bluntly.

A slight smile teased at the corners of Kallus's mouth. "I wasn't thinking of myself as the officer."

Everyone looked at Rex, whose eyes widened. "No. Absolutely not."