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Thrawn took note of the way his footsteps echoed as he entered the interrogation cell. While he was never trying to be overtly intimidating, he never seemed to mind the effect his reputation and presence seemed to have on people. Being one of the only high-ranking imperials to be a nonhuman came with perks. This information as well as his reputation, he often used to his advantage.
This time, however, he knew the effect would be tarnished slightly by their existing relationship. As he entered the room, he locked eyes with the steely glare of one Alexsandr Kallus, staring daggers at him from across the room while shackled to an interrogation table by his wrists, ankles, and neck. That did not dissuade him from immediately meeting Thrawn’s gaze as he entered the room. Thrawn made note of this.
The look in his eyes, matched with his intensely held posture made Thrawn immediately suspect that the man was currently dealing with a large amount of anxiety. Of course, he could not be blamed for the reaction. Imperial custody was designed to wring anxiety out of the fibers of even the most collected of beings, which Kallus hardly was. From his time acting as the man’s superior, he knew that Kallus was more often than not, impulsive, acting rashly and hoping for immediate results, rather than having patience and playing the long game. He doubted much had changed in the short amount of time he had spent with the rebels.
Turning his attention to the being restrained across from Agent Kallus, he saw a rebel he was slightly less familiar with, but still recognized immediately. It was difficult to mistake the man, given how he was one of the last of his species free in the galaxy, nonetheless working with Alexsandr Kallus in the rebellion. Garazeb Orrelios was also shackled to a table, similar to how Kallus was being restrained. The only difference was that Orrelios was still unconscious from his momentary resistance against the troopers. Thrawn had been briefed on the altercation. The losses and injuries were unfortunate, but acceptable in order to get both the prisoners in these positions.
His gaze shifted back to Kallus, their eyes meeting once again. The eye contact was intense, to say the least. The man had not taken his eyes off him since he had entered the room. In his own culture, as well as in human culture, from what he had observed, this was a nonverbal challenge of sorts. Thrawn loved being challenged, especially when his challenger was bound and helpless.
“Well, if it isn’t the long lost traitor, Agent Kallus,” he said, remaining still near the door to the room. He knew that a lack of movement on his part could be even more intimidating, especially to humans who tended to have difficulties standing still. So he did so, hopefully reminding Kallus of just exactly who he was dealing with.
“I’m sure you’re well aware that I am no longer an agent of the empire. You’re smarter than that,” Kallus spit back at him, straining his neck against the shackle. Determination burned in his eyes. Interesting.
Thrawn nodded. “I am well aware of that fact, thank you, Captain.”
At this small admission of his knowledge of his new rank in the rebellion forces, Kallus’s eyes widened a fraction. It would not have been noticeable if he had not been looking for that exact reaction. Unfortunately for Kallus, he had been searching for any sign of surprise. So Kallus was not aware of Thrawn’s new batch of information from the rebels. That would likely be his undoing.
Taking a breath, Thrawn stepped forward three paces before stopping directly in front of the restrained man. He placed himself just out of the range where Kallus could rest his head against the table and still keep his eyes trained on him. As he expected, Kallus kept his neck strained forward, focusing on him as he came to a stop in front of the table. Good. The man’s effort left him still in the position of power, regardless of the restraints around his opponent.
He stood for a moment, letting the move settle in the air before continuing. “As I am sure you are aware, we had knowledge of your infiltration attempt. Although, I must admit, I thought you smarter than this, Captain Kallus.”
The man didn’t look away. Interesting. Given that reaction, Thrawn could deduce that Kallus stood by his actions. Either that, or the plan had not been his in the first place. It was difficult to tell with such subtle body language. But this did tell him that Kallus regretted nothing, even though their plans had gone wildly sideways. No mistake on his own part then.
“Intelligence is not the issue here, I assure you.” Kallus rested his head back on the table, still keeping his eyes trained in Thrawn’s direction, although unable to focus on him. “Need I remind you, I acted as a spy for the rebellion for over a year, directly under your nose?” Thrawn did not miss the way his lips pulled up in a smug half-smile.
“Of course. How could I forget?” Thrawn stepped forward, meeting the man’s eyes directly before continuing. “Years spent in active treason against your empire, only to give the location of the base away at the last second, and run like a coward.” He paused for a moment, waiting for Kallus to react. When he remained stubbornly impassive, Thrawn continued. “Do you know how much rebel blood is on your hands, Captain? How many people died that day?”
Kallus remained quiet for a moment, his face carefully trained before responding. “I am well aware of the estimated number of lives lost in the battle of Atollon. But it was my warning that allowed them to escape. This is war, in case you had forgotten, Grand Admiral. Losses are to be expected.”
Despite his carefully trained face, Thrawn could very clearly see the guilt simmering just below the surface in Kallus’s eyes. He did feel guilty for it, somewhere deep in his subconscious. But he was doing a remarkable job of keeping his words steady, even with Thrawn throwing his greatest failure in his face.
Humming, the grand admiral stepped back, once again standing just out of Kallus’s comfortable view. Kallus lifted his head to follow. “While what you’ve said is true, and this is, indeed, war, your actions still got so many of your friends killed.” He hesitated for a moment, studying his captive’s face carefully as he spoke his next words. Kallus’s reaction to what he said next would either confirm his suspicions about the man, or he would need to rethink his plan. “You are lucky he survived the battle,” Thrawn said, gesturing to the unconscious lasat on the table behind him before continuing, “as well as the rest of your precious Spectres.”
It was small. An ever so slight shift in Kallus’s eyebrows, but it was there, painted across the man’s face clearly. The temperature of Kallus’s face raised slightly, Thrawn noted, and his pupils dilated minutely at the mention of the lasat. He fought down a victorious smile as his suspicions were confirmed. He now understood much more about Kallus than he ever had, and he now understood the reason behind the man’s treasonous actions.
He was in love with the lasat.
The beautiful irony of the situation was not lost on him. The man who had brought Lasan to its knees for his empire, now willing to give up everything he had ever fought for to win the affection of one of his victims. Thrawn remembered reading the literature on the Siege of Lasan, with Agent Kallus featured prominently in the imperial victory that day. But now, seeing the man in front of him having fallen so far from grace for the love of one man he had so deeply wronged in the past, it was almost tragic.
He kept this train of thought to himself. But he did wonder momentarily if Orrelios knew of the man’s affections. And if not, he wondered briefly what his response would be to that information. Thrawn did not know Orrelios well, but he had studied the art and culture of his recently deceased people quite extensively. He knew the man came from a culture of warriors of honor. That likely meant either a very violent outcome, or a very underwhelming one.
“Forgive me for interrupting your thoughts, Grand Admiral, but can we get on with this already?” Kallus laid his head back against the table, staring at the ceiling for a moment, and resting his neck muscles while he spoke. “What exactly do you want from us?”
Thrawn allowed himself to smile slightly, enjoying the man’s impatience. That did lend evidence to his earlier suspicion that Kallus was still just as irrational and impatient as ever. Taking a moment to let his question go unanswered, Thrawn waited for the right time to speak.
When the silence in the room had ruminated long enough, he inhaled slightly, turning to the other rebel, restrained on the table across from Kallus. Thankfully, he was still unconscious from the sedatives. “I want to know what exactly was so important to the rebel cause that you had to infiltrate my star destroyer in order to retrieve it.”
Even though he did not turn to watch the man respond, he could hear the smirk in Kallus’s voice. “You’re an even bigger fool than I took you for if you think I would tell you that.”
Just as he had expected. Letting a slight smile cross his face, he turned to find the captive rebel smirking at him. “I did not expect any less from you. The ISB trained you well, after all. I am aware that there is very little I could do in terms of torture and pain that will make you talk. So I won’t even try.”
Kallus’s face faltered for a second, worry simmering beneath the surface of his carefully curated expression. Surely he had been expecting physical torture, and he was likely very confident that he could withstand anything Thrawn hit him with. It was clear that he had not been expecting this. That worked in Thrawn’s favor.
“I can assure you that any pain I inflict upon you will be ultimately useless, and will only serve to waste time. While that is a commodity we have plenty of, I would like to not waste much of it.” He could wait as long as he needed to in order to get the information he needed, that much was true. But depending on what exactly the rebels had hoped to gain here today, the cost of more time could potentially be great. So, although it was not necessarily imperative, time was indeed of the essence.
“So, I will let you choose, Captain Kallus. You can either tell me what you hoped to learn here today…” he reached down, pulling his blaster from his belt and pointing it at Orrelios’s head, “…or I will execute the lasat.”
The terror that flickered behind Kallus’s eyes was sweet. However, he remained impassive. “Bold of you to assume I would value the life of one… soldier, over the existence of the rebellion.” The pause had been brief, but Thrawn had noticed it. The defector’s resolve was beginning to fracture.
He took a step toward the lasat, touching the blaster to the lasat’s temple before continuing. At the touch, the prisoner stirred slightly, the sedative wearing off. His timing could not have been better. “I can see it in your eyes, Captain. You are weak. You care about him.” Kallus’s eyes grew a fraction wider. “There is no use denying it at this point. I am already aware of the feelings you harbor for him.”
Kallus stayed silent, eyes slightly wide. His breathing had picked up. Thrawn could sense the panic rising just under the surface. It was difficult to keep his face trained when his suspicions were so clearly brought to light on his captor’s face. The panic he saw could mean one of two things.
“What I don’t quite know is how much Orrelios knows of these feelings. Is he aware that the cause of his homeworld collapse is pining for him? Does he know the true extent of your perversion?” Orrelios groaned behind him, grasping harder onto consciousness. His lip quirked up in a smirk. “I’m sure he would have quite the reaction to that information, don’t you think? What a sick man you are, Alexsandr Kallus. Attracted to one of the few survivors of a genocide you yourself participated in.”
His captor let his impassive facade fall, leaving behind an aggressive scowl. “You know nothing of me, or him,” Kallus hissed through clenched teeth.
Tilting his head, Thrawn held his gaze. “Is that so? Why don’t we ask him then? See what he thinks of this information?”
The signs of stress in humans were painfully obvious, once one knew what to look for. Kallus’s breathing immediately picked up, eyes widening at the threat. “You wouldn’t.”
“You seem to underestimate me, Captain.” Thrawn kept his voice even, despite the excitement rising in his chest. His plan was working perfectly as the man across from him came undone under the pressure. “But don’t worry. Orrelios won’t be around long after learning of your affections. But at least he will know the truth before he is put to death.”
Turning back to the lasat, Thrawn watched as consciousness returned to him. The second he was conscious enough to feel the cool metal of the blaster barrel against his forehead, his eyes shot open. He looked over to Kallus, locking eyes with the man before turning his gaze toward Thrawn, who held his gaze steady, the slight smirk still plastered on his face.
“Last chance, Captain.” Looking over his shoulder at Kallus, he was treated to the man seemingly in a silent panic. He waited. The man didn’t speak. Thrawn took that as his answer. “Well then, shall we let Orrelios in on our little secret, then?”
Kallus didn’t move. His breathing was quick, and his jaw quivered just slightly. He let the panic stew for a moment while turning back to Orrelios, tilting his head at the man inquisitively. The blaster shifted against his temple. The man didn’t flinch.
“What’s going on?” The lasat was not speaking to him, but to Kallus across the room. “What happened?”
Kallus didn’t respond.
“Glad to see you’ve decided to join us, Spectre 4.” Orrelios’s eyes snapped to his, causing the blaster to shift once again. Thrawn held it steady. “What is happening is that I made a deal with your colleague here. He has seemingly decided to decline my deal, giving up your life for the rebellion’s secrets.”
The lasat’s gaze shot back to Kallus, determination in his eyes. Thrawn swore he saw a small bit of fear beneath them as well. He figured this would be normal. However, something shifted when he caught Kallus’s gaze. The fear softened into something else… Something Thrawn couldn’t quite identify. He took note of it, and continued.
“He also wagered a piece of information, opting for me to tell you before I execute you.” Orrelios looked back to him, meeting his eyes.
“Kriffin’ blue bastard. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Think you always have the upper hand?” The lasat quirked a brow, face set in steel. “You won’t get either of us to tell you anything.”
Thrawn’s gaze shifted to Kallus. The man was still visibly concerned, but still remaining stubbornly silent. “You may not tell me anything, Orrelios. But I assure you, Captain Kallus has told me enough.”
The lasat shook his head, eyes betraying his fear. “Kal would never talk.” He locked eyes with the other rebel across the room, clearly questioning what Thrawn had meant by the statement. Kallus remained silent and averted his gaze, staring toward the ceiling. Worry flooded the lasat’s face.
“What your dear Captain doesn’t want you to know, Garazeb, is that he has feelings for you.” In this moment, Thrawn looked over to Kallus, hoping he would react in some way. He waited for the man to spill any sort of information. Despite the way his face twisted in agony at the admission, he remained stubbornly silent. The strong reaction was still plenty fulfilling, however. Agony, be it emotional or physical, was always such a beautiful emotion to witness.
When he looked back to the lasat, his expression was one of confusion.
“Although he did not tell me outright, it was simple to deduce that Captain Kallus has developed feelings for you. Ones which he wishes to remain concealed.” The lasat’s ears pressed back against his head, his eyes still trained on the man across the room. “I thought it merciful that you should know, before you are executed.”
Orrelios was still staring at Kallus, pain on his face. Thrawn waited a moment for him to speak. The silence stretched on. He noticed the way he could hear three distinctive breathing patterns.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The lasat’s voice broke as he asked.
Kallus kept his gaze trained on the ceiling, but opened his eyes at Orrelios’s words.
“Why?” The force in his voice was clear. Thrawn continued to hold the blaster to the man’s head, but stayed silent, letting Orrelios do the work of tearing Kallus apart on his own.
“You’re my friend… I couldn’t risk that.” Kallus’s words were clipped. He didn’t take his gaze off the ceiling.
Orrelios’s gaze dropped, shock playing out across his features when Kallus did not immediately deny his feelings. Thrawn watched the emotions play out across the lasat’s face. Confusion. Dread. Anger. Heartbreak.
“I wish I wasn’t finding this out with a blaster pressed to my temple,” he said, throwing Thrawn an icy look before turning his gaze to Kallus. “I don’t really need him to hear this, but I’m not exactly disappointed.”
Thrawn failed to mask his surprise. His eyebrows shot up in surprise before he turned his eyes toward Kallus, who was still staring at the ceiling. He noticed a tear running down the side of the man’s face.
“Don’t… Don’t say things like that, Garazeb. You don’t have to spare my feelings. I’m the one who should be comforting you right now, not the other way around.” Kallus looked well and thoroughly broken, tears running down the sides of his face, as his eyes slammed shut. “I’m sorry, Garazeb.”
The lasat chuckled next to him. “I’m sorry too… but for a totally different reason, Kallus.” The smile on his face was warm. Thrawn was intrigued. “Can you look at me for a second?”
Watching as Kallus strained his head to meet the lasat’s gaze, Thrawn realized his upper hand had been completely shifted, if not lost. He had not been prepared for the lasat to actually be receptive to the man’s feelings. However, it didn’t matter much, Thrawn figured. As soon as he went to pull the trigger, Kallus would talk. Maybe even more now, with the lasat’s affections having been returned.
“It’s okay.” The softness of the man’s voice was almost difficult to listen to. The affection there was hardly masked, clear as day to any sentient with an emotional brain. “It’s going to be okay.”
As Kallus heaved out a breath through his tears, Thrawn knew the time was coming. Kallus was going to speak now, or he was going to die silent, right alongside his rebel friend. Thrawn cocked the blaster, pressing it harder against the lasat’s skull.
“Time is up, Captain. What will it be?”
Kallus blinked at him through tears before furrowing his brows in aggression. Orrelios closed his eyes.
“Don’t say anything Kal. I’ll see you on the other side, alright?”
Thrawn enjoyed the way Kallus’s face crumbled at the words. He opened his mouth to say something. Thrawn held his composure.
The comlink on Thrawn’s belt began alarming, alerting him of an incoming message from onboard the ship. He breathed out a frustrated sigh before holstering his blaster reluctantly and retrieving his comlink from his belt.
“What is it?” He tried to keep his voice steady.
“Sir, there is an unauthorized droid aboard the ship. It was able to transmit a message somewhere offworld. We are currently unaware of its location.” Thrawn watched the two rebels breathe a synchronized sigh of relief. Thrawn pursed his lips. Of course there were three. He should have checked for a droid. That oversight had cost him the information, as the rebels’ reactions had told him that the outgoing transmission had seen their mission accomplished.
“I’m en route to the bridge.” He ended the call before shoving his comlink into his pocket and turning toward the exit.
“You may have won today. But please rest assured that the empire will win. It’s all a matter of time.”
The door closed behind him, leaving the rebels with their short victory. He would be back shortly to execute them both, once that droid was dealt with.