Chapter Two

It was black, and bushy, and sleekly tapered at the corners. Zeb couldn't keep his eyes off it. It made the tanned face it was attached to look decades younger.

The face that was currently scowling.

"Zeb, if you stare at my mustache one more time…" Rex growled.

Zeb blinked before looking away guiltily. He couldn't help it – Rex didn't look like Rex with most of his beard shaved off, let alone the dye job. It was a good thing Rex already knew how to dye hair, since Sabine wasn't aboard to lend a hand. He and Hera wouldn't have been much help, so the only real option left would have been Kallus… and Rex was still grumpy about being convinced to play officer. Then again, the only alternative would have been to send Kallus in alone, and they all knew what a bad idea that was. The ex-agent had an unhealthy habit of considering everyone's safety but his own.

As if summoned by the thought, Kallus entered the cockpit. He glanced at Rex, scrutinizing his disguise critically for a moment before nodding. "That should be adequate. The last thing we need is for you to be recognized instead."

Rex scowled at him. "I had one close run-in with one Imperial officer."

"Is that what we're calling interrogations these days?" Kallus asked dryly.

He was saved from the Clone's retort by the arrival of both AP-5 and Hera. The Twi'lek captain, familiar with their banter, ignored the resulting awkward silence and turned to face Kallus. "Our supplier shouldn't be long. When do you want to head out?"

"AP-5 should get into the base as quickly as possible," he replied. "Rex and I will need to be outside the spaceport so as not to arouse suspicion if the time comes to move."

"Which it probably will," Zeb growled under his breath.

"All comms will be on standby, correct?" Rex turned to look at Hera.

"Yes," Hera confirmed. "We'll be waiting on your signal. If anything goes wrong we'll come in no matter where you are, so make sure you're in the open first."

"All right then," the Clone huffed a breath. "Let's go."

The three members of the infiltration team exited the cockpit, and Hera pressed the ramp controls to the quiet hiss of hydraulics. A few moments later, the sound repeated as their friends closed the ramp behind them.

Hera sighed, looking out at the empty hangar below. "Well, all there is to do now… is wait."

"I hate this part," Zeb groaned.

AP-5 walked alongside the garrison walls, glancing up briefly to see old-world stone watchtowers above. The building had clearly been reclaimed from an earlier time-period to serve the Empire – and it wasn't easy on the eyes, either. It was built from the same bright orange stone as the surrounding mountain range, and someone's half-hearted attempt at painting it gray had resulted in a untidy display that appealed to no one. "I hope these access codes work," the droid warned Kallus over the comm.

"They will," Kallus's voice replied tersely. "Changing the general codes out would take years. It hasn't been that long since I left."

"They're still using codes from the Clone Wars, after all," Rex's voice added dryly, tone slightly muffled by static. "Don't worry about it. If something does go wrong, we get to shoot up an ugly building."

"Very reassuring," the droid replied sarcastically, then shut off the comm. before turning the corner to approach the gates.

Two white-armored stormtroopers on either side of the gate turned toward him as he approached, holding blast rifles at the ready. Their true faces were concealed by polished white helmets, each adorned with the typical straight black line across the temples, glassy black 'eyes,' the downturned curve of the breathing vent, and two circular ports for air filtration on either side of the recessed grille of the (also black) chin vocoder. "Halt!" the trooper on the right ordered with raised hand, his helmet's scowling impression not alleviated by the stern, slightly mechanized voice emitting from it. AP-5 obliged. "Let's see your authorization."

AP-5 held out the card Kallus had assembled before arrival. It wasn't an ID card in anything but appearance; Kallus had loaded basic override and access codes into it. The combination was enough to trick the sensors and grant access, or so their newest team member had informed them. It was a system-wide glitch no one had bothered correcting yet… if they'd noticed in the first place.

The trooper who had spoken swiped the card through a scanner on the wall behind him, and its light flashed green. "He's clear," he told his partner, and the second trooper opened the gate for the droid to enter.

By an exterior wall, Kallus looked at his datapad as the screen flashed. "Good work," he said into the comm Rex was holding. "Now get back to the ship before our contact gets here. Specter Two will need your help."

"Good luck," the droid's voice replied, then the line went dead.

Rex pocketed the comm. "Well?" he asked.

"The prisoner was a transfer from Lothal, so unless there's been a substitution our target's origins are confirmed," his companion told him, pocketing the pad. "We also have a number for the cell where he's being held."

"Let's go then."

Kallus shook his head as Rex glanced in the direction of a passing trooper. "No need to inconvenience any of the local troops. This garrison is relatively makeshift. Their supplies – including the uniforms," he added with a smirk, walking past Rex, "are in an external building under minimal guard."

It wasn't long before the two men were dropping down from a window into the warehouse, landing almost silently within. The building was dimly lit by numerous multi-panel windows along the roof, and Rex looked in disbelief at the runes and diagrams on the walls which helpfully informed them of the whereabouts of various supplies. "Well organized, aren't they?"

"It makes things run more smoothly," Kallus replied quietly, scanning the labels as they walked through. "Unfortunately all too few commanders bother with it – but there's a reason it's so simple to 'liberate' supplies without notice in a disorganized space."

"If you can find the right supplies in the first place," Rex grumbled. "Ah – uniforms." He lifted the crate's lid to reveal a sea of gray cloth. "Not much color, is there?"

"Pick a combination that should fit," Kallus reminded him. "An ill-fitting uniform on an officer is a dead giveaway."

"Right."

Minutes later Rex adjusted his gray cap, placed the final piece of his armor in a dented crate, and scowled at his blurred reflection on the side of the latter. His crisp gray uniform and black mustache made him nearly unrecognizable, and he looked the part of an Imperial officer… except for the missing rank badge and easy posture. He couldn't decide if this was better or worse than posing as a stormtrooper. On one hand, there wasn't any armor whatsoever in this getup. On the other, he at least got to keep his own weapons.

The Clone clicked his comm to signal for their things to be picked up before glancing around. "Kallus?" he called. "You ready yet?"

"Yes," came a voice, and Rex jerked as white armor rounded the crate in front of him – only to relax as he saw Kallus's face above it. Kallus raised an eyebrow, and the Clone ignored it. So he had a bit of a reaction to trooper armor. What Rebel didn't?

Kallus deposited his own things in the crate, and Rex critically assessed his friend's disguise as he straightened. Kallus had donned white, polished, and slightly bulbous plastisteel armor over a black bodyglove and boots, the standard ensamble that made up a stormtrooper's uniform. He stood with military stiffness, holding his helmet under one arm.

Rex looked a second time and chuckled. "That hair is hardly regulation."

Kallus brushed medium-length hair out of his face. "You're one to talk; you have no hair to speak of. Though helmets obscure such things rather well." He held his own helmet out in front of him, surveying the inside of its two black-tinted viewports.

"At least I can see in my headgear," the Clone quipped. "I'll have to do all the shooting if something goes wrong."

"That shouldn't be an issue," came the quick answer. "There's a minor wiring defect in these mass produced helmets – it corrupts the internal display and minimizes peripheral vision. However, if you're fortunate enough to have some experience in that area…"

Kallus did something to the inside of the helmet, then handed it to Rex, who eyed the item before slipping it on. Rex's shoulders drew back in surprise before he ripped the helmet off again to stare at Kallus in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me. Just a wiring issue? Stormtroopers have been awful shots for years 'cause they can't see, and they still haven't fixed it?"

Kallus's mouth twitched. "Welcome to the Empire." He handed Rex a rank bar, then reclaimed the helmet and placed it on his own head.

"Well, that explains the helmet you used to wear," Rex muttered, clipping the badge on. "No electronic interference there – Wait a minute. Why do you know how to modify a stormtrooper helmet?"

The 'trooper' stiffened slightly. With the man's face now hidden Rex couldn't see his expression, but Kallus's tone was calm. "This isn't the first time I've worn the armor."

Rex gave him a sidelong glance and decided not to confront the issue. "Well. Better not let Ezra hear that or he'll be wanting your helmet for his collection."

Kallus chuckled, his voice slightly muffled through said helmet. "I think you might be right. I suppose it has a certain prestige to it in his eyes – though I never understood that particular fixation."

Standing at parade rest, E-11 rifle held level across his chest, the false trooper nodded to Rex. "Lead the way, Sergeant."

"There you are!"

A greenish-gray skinned humanoid dressed in brown jacket and dark trousers walked quickly toward them, extending a five-fingered hand in greeting. Hera extended her own gloved hand and they shook. "Good to see you, Ankar," she greeted.

Ankar Tolden's face was wrinkled and otherwise without contour from the front, and lacked a nose and visible hearing organs entirely in the characteristic look of the Neimoidian species. His pupilless red-bronze eyes glanced toward Zeb and AP-5 before returning to Hera. "Small crew you've got right now."

"Well, the others are away at the moment, so we make do with what we have," Hera replied neutrally. She doubted the presence of a Clone Trooper would have eased the mind of a man whose species had infamously fought for the opposing side. "I assume the shipment is here?"

The spacer gestured toward the two hover racks behind him, pushed by droids and loaded to the top with crates. "As we agreed."

Hera nodded and gestured her crew forward. "We'll start loading then."

"My droids and I can help with that," Ankar offered in his gravelly voice. "We're in no hurry."

She hesitated a moment before agreeing, "That would be appreciated." While Ankar wasn't a member of the Rebellion, he was trustworthy, and the sooner the Ghost was loaded the sooner they could leave – and who knew if their side mission would go wrong. It was better to be prepared.

Somehow, Hera suspected they would need it.

A black mustached sergeant made his way down the halls of Rantoon's garrison headquarters, head high, posture straight, and ignoring anyone lower in rank than him who happened to cross his path. Behind him and a step to the right walked a stormtrooper with rifle at the ready, steps exactly in time with his superior and equally undistracted from his course. None of the detention level guards thought it odd that they didn't recognize the officer; he was likely part of the visiting detatchment from Lothal.

If they had known the truth, they might have been less passive about the matter. And perhaps noticed when the officer used a near-collision with another sergeant to swipe his code cylinder.

The 'officer' slowed slightly as they approached cell 385. "Is this the one?" he muttered under his breath to the 'stormtrooper' following him.

Fully concealed by the armor, Kallus tapped his rifle twice with two fingers to confirm. He heard a barely audible hiss of breath as Rex exhaled, grabbed the code cylinder off his utility belt, and entered it into the cell's access port.

The grey door hissed open to reveal the cell's sole occupant laying on a hard metal bunk on the far end. He quickly scrambled to sit upright, revealing dark hair and a youthful face with shadowed blue eyes. Kallus let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding; it was, indeed, Lieutenant Lyste, and if this was a trap he was unlikely to be complicit. Captivity had clearly been hard on his former co-worker. Lyste's face showed fading bruises, and he sat with a slight hunch that could indicate either defensiveness or bruised ribs.

Despite his appearance, Lyste faced the supposed Sergeant head on and met his eyes squarely. "I'm innocent," he stated passionately, in the slightly despairing tone of one repeating information they had already given many times before. "You have to find the real spy, they're still out there. Governor Pryce was involved – Agent Kallus can tell you, he was there."

Rex shifted awkwardly, and Kallus realized he hadn't yet confirmed the prisoner's identity to his partner. He repeated the two taps from before. Rex nodded without taking his eyes off Lyste and signaled over his shoulder for him to close the door. The false trooper glanced to the side and pressed the controls outside the cell, then stepped in after his 'superior,' subtly pushing a data card into the gap to prevent the door from locking correctly. They couldn't afford some passerby becoming suspicious of an open cell, but the mission would be over very quickly if they managed to lock themselves inside it.

Especially since they didn't know if Lyste would be leaving with them.

Rex stood completely straight, and for the first time Kallus could see the GAR officer he had once been as he proceeded with the 'interrogation.' "From what I heard Kallus was the one to stop you from attacking the Governor," he remarked in a disinterested tone.

"That…" the lieutenant looked down. "That I can't explain. He said ISB was watching her, asked me to help – then she attacked a stormtrooper and I stopped her, and the next thing I knew I was under arrest." Lyste looked up again, almost defiantly. "But I'm sure he had his reasons. He'll tell you, or haven't you talked to him yet?"

Rex glanced at his companion, quirking a brow minutely in question. The ex-agent hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, and Lyste flinched slightly, clearly expecting a blow for his comment. Kallus waited for him to look up again before removing his helmet. "I'm right here," he said quietly.

An awkward silence fell for a moment. Lyste stared at him in disbelief and attempted to speak. "What – " Finding his voice far too high pitched, he coughed and asked at a more normal volume, his eyes lighting with cautious hope, "What's going on?"

"I'm afraid that you are at the center of a plot," Kallus replied simply, helmet held loosely beneath his arm. "The real Fulcrum agent has escaped Imperial custody. The Empire has no one else to blame, and I'm afraid that you are the person designated to take the fall. They've scheduled your execution for tomorrow."

Lyste stared at him in disbelief, denial coloring his features. "No. The Empire would never do that. Why would you say that? How – Did you catch the spy? Who was it?"

Kallus cleared his throat nervously, glancing at Rex. Rex chose to remain silent and let him conduct the conversation, only tapping his wrist briefly to remind him that time was short. "I know," he replied finally, "because I am the one who accidentally put you in this situation. I was Fulcrum."

Lyste answered with an expression of incredulity. "You couldn't be. How could you be –" Then he went quiet, apparently recognizing and connecting some of the missing details of his imprisonment. He absently tugged at the gray sleeve of his prison uniform.

Seeing his hesitation, Kallus pressed on. "If you remain here, you face death within a matter of hours. Your life is endangered. If you choose, you may remain here. Or we can help you escape."

Lyste glanced at Rex – apparently connecting that if Kallus was a Rebel, so was the supposed officer standing before him – then shook his head again. "No. The Empire would never do that. Maybe they've announced an execution to draw in someone else, but they would never do that. You'll see," he said confidently.

Kallus could remember feeling that same blind faith, not that long ago. He let his shoulders fall. "We'll honor your decision, whatever it may be," he replied quietly. "All I ask is that you reconsider. It's your life at stake."

Lyste frowned at him. "I – how could you be a spy? It doesn't make any sense. Why?"

"When you ask questions, you tend to find the answers," Kallus replied grimly. "And they seldom cast the Empire in a positive light."

The lieutenant shook his head, determined. "I am loyal to the Empire," he asserted firmly.

"Understood," Kallus acknowledged, pained at Lyste's choice. He doubted he would ever see the man alive again. "With that the case, I'm afraid our time here is running short. Goodbye, Lieutenant."

Rex twisted the card inserted into the door, and the door obligingly slid open – only to reveal a clear sight down the barrels of five blaster rifles. Eyes widening in shock, he looked past them to see a full squad of white-armored stormtroopers, ten men in all…

… Led by Governor Pryce.

"Well," she remarked. "It seems the Rebels have come after all." Pryce's icy blue eyes moved past him only to fall on Kallus, and surprise widened them for a moment before a cold smile appeared on her face. "Though not quite the Rebels I expected… It seems that the execution of an innocent draws even the most unlikely of candidates. With your recapture, my own failure is at an end.

"It seems we will be having a double execution," she added sharply to her captive audience. "Or perhaps three, should we choose to forgo interrogating your friend. It's been a while since this world has had any form of enforcement shown; this should help cement their loyalty to the Empire – show them what happens to those who act against it."

Unnoticed behind the two Rebels, Lyste stiffened in shock as his worldview shattered before him.