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Every day, Kallus told himself this was the day it would happen.
How would they do it? Would he be asked to an innocuous meeting, where an officer curiously read aloud a list of security breaches while an Inquisitor stood to one side, prodding at Kallus’ mind? A drawn-out trial with interrogation droids and a firing squad? It was unlikely. The Empire barely had the resources to spare: Kallus wasn’t the only leak they were struggling to control. No, a quick blaster shot to the back of the head: that’s how he’d have done it, before Bahryn.
His entire life had rewritten itself around this point: before Bahryn, and after it.
Today, he caught himself wondering if the security droid that interrupted him in the middle of his reports would be written up as faulty, if it shot a decorated officer in a fatal calculation error. It would be decommissioned immediately, a negligible cost to save the ISB from the lengthy process of proving Kallus was a spy. But the droid only loomed, looking as reluctant as Kallus felt about their meeting.
‘Human resources has flagged a potential issue for your attention,’ the droid droned.
‘Yes?’ Kallus raised an eyebrow.
‘A defection risk,’ the droid said.
The hairs on the back of Kallus’ neck prickled. He was imagining the weight in the droid’s words, surely.
‘Who have they identified?’ Kallus set his datapad to one side, careful to appear bemused rather than terrified.
‘A pilot,’ the droid held out a holoprojector. ‘He flies cargo runs out of Eadu.’
A blue face flickered in front of Kallus. Bodhi Rook was long-haired and wide-eyed, his profile capturing an expression somewhere between resignation and determination. Easily explained if the holo was taken when he was fresh from the academy: nobody signed up planning to fly cargo.
It could also be the face of a rebel. Kallus glanced over the details as the droid stood impassively. Born on Jedha. Would he need any other reason to hate the Empire?
There was a concerning detail, which HR hadn’t caught—amateurs. Rook’s credit history suggested he spent time in Eadu’s nicer cantinas: it wasn’t impossible that he’d crossed paths with that engineer they used to have under surveillance. It was only a hunch, but Kallus had good hunches.
‘Any specific incidents?’ he asked.
The droid pulled up a report of a minor altercation during a pickup: Rook had apparently refused to ship disruptor rifles under a false manifest. Typical, that following the rules had brought him to the ISB’s attention. Kallus let his hair fall into his face to mask rolling his eyes.
Rook might be worth bringing up with Garazeb, if the chance arose. Despite the risk, Kallus found himself hunting for details that might prolong their calls. The more they talked, the looser the knot in Kallus’ chest became. It was the relief of getting his intel safely delivered—nothing to do with the way Zeb rumbled Kal like nobody else did.
‘Mark it low priority,’ Kallus waved a hand at the droid.
The droid hesitated. It was a fraction of a second, only long enough for Kallus to wonder if he could reach his bo-rifle in time. Then the droid shut off the holo and placed the projector on Kallus’ desk.
‘Forward any similar cases directly to me,’ Kallus said, and prayed to a Force he hardly believed in that nobody in HR would find this questionable.
‘Yes, sir,’ the droid tilted its head. ‘I will do so most promptly.’
‘Thank you,’ Kallus glanced down at the designation. ‘That will be all, K-2SO.’