Before the Saga “Wrong”, an Agent Kallus one-shot (2 BBY)

Title: “Wrong”, an Agent Kallus one-shot

WARNING: May contain spoilers for the Cassandra main story!

Author: AzureAngel2

Co-editor and muse: @DarthUncle

Main beta editor: @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

Length: one-shot

Summary: Betrayal is part of human nature. But usually those that we love most, get hurt first by our actions. Agent Kallus has to find this out the bitter way.

Time frame: The story takes place in 2 BBY.

Planet of choice: Chandrila

Reader warning: Please excuse my weird English! I am German. English is only my Second language!

Disclaimer: SW is owned by George Lucas, Lucas Ltd. and now The Walt Disney Company


You can tell by the way she walks
That she's my girl.
You can tell by the way
She talks she woos the world.
You can see in her eyes
That no one is her change
She's my girl,
My supergirl.

And then she'd say:
"It's OK, I got lost on the way
But I'm a super girl
And super girls don't cry"
And then she'd say:
"It's alright, I got home
Late last night
But I'm a super girl
And super girls just fly".
And then she'd say
That nothing can go wrong
When you're in love
What can be wrong?
And then she'd laugh
The night time into day
Pushing her fear
Further alone

And then she'd say:
"It's OK, I got lost on the way
But I'm a super girl
And super girls don't cry"
And then she'd say:
"It's alright, I got home
Late last night
But I'm a super girl
And super girls just fly".

And then she'd shout
Down the line
Tell me she's got no more time
Cause she's a supergirl
And supergirls don't cry

And then she'd scream
In my face
Tell me to leave,
Leave this place
Cause she's a supergirl
And supergirls just fly

Yeah she's a supergirl,
A supergirl.
She's so in seeds
She's burning trees
She's so in seeds
She's burning streams
Yeah she's a supergirl
A supergirl
A supergirl
My supergirl.


The name 'Fulcrum' was not chosen by you. Actually, it's nothing more than a title used by many rebel informants.

As for the elegant call sign symbol itself, they say was inspired by the facial markings of the first Fulcrum: a Togruta female by the name of Ashoka Tano. Unfortunately, she had died on the job. Rumours have it that none other than Darth Vader is responsible for her demise.

You can neither confirm nor deny that story. Even an ISB agent cannot know every dirty little secret that the Emperor's faithful handyman has.

At least you are fully aware of the Naboo meaning for the term 'Fulcrum': pivot point.

While you open the secret channel for transmission, you have a lop-sided smile.

For your best friend, Director Orson Krennic, there used to be a person who had been such a pivot in his life. Her name had been Nagina Samye née Anil. She had been a kindergarten teacher. Her last occupation had been at the crèche of Jhothal.

You sigh, remembering the poor woman's untimely death. In her honour, for you knew her well, you have chosen the following code phrase, “By the light of Lothal's moons.”

When you are in the middle of your transmission, your bedroom door opens unexpectedly.

You freeze when you recognize the intruder. But not for long. For the next thing that you do is curse yourself inwardly for not locking the door.

Wide eyed, Cassandra Krennic stares at the flickering code sign with her mouth half open. You can see that her mind is working hard to comprehend.

Sighing, you turn off the half-finished transmission.

The door clicks shut.

You have thought that the girl would be polite enough to knock before entering. But since she turned into a teenager, she can be extremely lax with such things.

There is some eye rolling from your side.

Due to Cassandra's negligence you are both facing an absolute disaster now.

Perhaps there is some hope left. She can be reasonable.

“Sweetie, let me explain!”

And while you say so, you hope that you really can. Not because your godchild is befriended with Grand-Admiral Thrawn since a decade. Or because she is the only person in this universe that is close to the infamous Lord Vader.

“This better be good!” Cassandra spits out, her face a mask of disgust.

You open your arms wide, your palms held upwards.

But you have no time to speak to her.

“No!” she breathes hard, her iris but small dots of shock.

That tells you that she is able to draw her own conclusions already. You have taught her too well.

“Traitor!” she yelps, her hand immediately flying towards her mouth to dampen that word.

“Cassie!” you protest, but the girl is right. In her eyes this is exactly what you are.

Orson and you taught her to be loyal to the system throughout her life. No matter what. Indoctrination that has worked.

You take her in, a dyed ginger with a pale complexion. There are some freckles around her nose. For today she has done her hair in a simple plait, that swings down her back. She wears a non-commissioned uniform in black and high leather boots. This means that she comes straight from work or whatever it is that her superior has in stock for her.

You huff joylessly.

About a year ago, around her official sixteenth birthday, Lord Vader explicitly asked for her presence on Mustafar. Her father claims that there are precious books, ancient scrolls and other objects of value that she would hold on trust.

Cassandra has changed a lot since she agreed to be in the service of the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet. Before that she used to be all smiles and happy giggles.

Both of you keep staring at one another, none willing to utter the next word in an already doomed dialogue.

“Mistress Cassandra?” sounds an apologetic voice from the outside, that is too electronic to be human.

“Not now, Jay!” she snaps. “We have a crisis in here.”

“May I be of any help?” the geriatric droid asks dutifully.

Her features soften. To her the aid of her grandfather is much more than a machine or household tool. He has the rights of a family member. “I wish you could, Jay, but we need to figure it out ourself.”

“Can dinner wait?”

“Sure, Jay.” Cassandra looks nothing but stricken. “Please, give us another ten minutes in here.”

There is a pause. “I will leave the plates in the oven.”

She closes her eyes, as if to keep her tears in. “Please do that, Jay!”

You wait for several heartbeats. Then you ask her gently, “What are you going to do?”

“Please, give me your weapon!”

Without thinking, you hand it over.

She gazes at the AB-75 bo-rifle as if she has never seen it before in her entire life. Then she changes it from bo-staff mode to rifle mode.

You watch her lifting the weapon up her right shoulder and shifting it into position.

“A court martial is too good for you,” she explains emotionlessly. Her face reminds you of Naboo marble.

“You want to kill me in here?” you muse and before you can hinder yourself, you add, “Why not bring me outside and have me dig a pit?”

“That takes too long.”

You shake your head in dismay. “What have I told you about the usage of weapons inside a building?” you say as stern as possible.

“Only in emergency cases,” she prompts. “And this is definitely one.”

“You do not even want to hear my story, Cassie?”

“No. That would give way to more lies that I could possibly handle.”

You hang your head, not able to stand the hurt in her brown eyes any more. “I have never lied to you.”

“Oh yeah?” she sniffs, tears of anger streaming down her face. “But you were not exactly forthcoming with your true attitude either. A rebel, really?”

While she says this, she sounds very much like her father when he is in a sarcastic mood.

Until now, you have never really given a thought to of how much Orson she carries inside her. Perhaps, you were blind to her flaws. Believed too much in the DNA that she has inherited from Nagina without even knowing.

“Nature versus nurture,” you mutter.

“What?” Confused, she blinks at you.

“Nothing.”

To tell Cassandra that she is not the person she believes to be, but the clone copy of the Emperor's secret niece, would achieve only more havoc in this room. Even, if you manage to survive the situation, Orson would want your head for telling her.

She wavers slightly under the weight of the bo-rifle, but she stands there like the brave, little soldier that you, of all people, taught her to be.

You take a deep breath and let out in one go, “The order the Empire stands for, protects nothing but a hollow, rotten core. It's inhumane. I am sorry that I only realized it after you got encapsulated in it.”

Her cheeks colour. “How dare you say something like that? You swore an oath to His Majesty.”

You shrug. “Not all that glitters is gold, Cassandra. Sheev Palpatine promised everybody a better universe after the Clone Wars. Turns out neither of us can hold on to their promises. That makes us both liars, wouldn't you say.”

She is gasping for air.

Dropping all fairness, you throw straight at her, “Even your precious Thrawn is nothing but a cold blooded murderer. On Lothal, for example, he made a factory worker called Morad Sumar ride to his own death.”

“Truth bender!” she shrieks.

“Oh, you want the truth, kid?” you jeer at her. “Your blue friend wanted the factory's male function rate to drop substantially.”

“You, you...!”

Cassandra is fishing for words, but you do not give her the time or opportunity.

“And I am no better than him,” you move on. “Months ago, I have poisoned food supplies to teach the rebels on Lothal a lesson. The refugees of Tarkintown had to pay the price for my decision. A child nearly died.”

Her lips move soundlessly as if whispering a prayer.

“Our Empire brings just death and destruction to its own citizens.”

“Only to those who deserve it.”

Her gaze is hard and unforgiving, but you need to speak up. Even though you go unheeded.

“During my latest encounters with the infamous 'Ghost' crew I experienced the full institutional cruelty and unfairness of the system.”

“The 'Ghost' crew?” she echoes.

“Hera Syndulla and her team taught me that the only humanity in our Empire comes from those who show it to others.”

Mortification spreads over her features. “You seek moral guidance from a dirty tail-head?”

It makes you sad that she has inherited more than just swear words from Orson. He seems to have passed on his racism, too.

“The correct term is Twi'lek,” you say matter-of-factly. “She is an expert pilot and a great leader. But she never have a fair chance inside this Empire, as you just showed.”

“Argh!” Cassandra curses, switching the weapon to collapsed mode and throwing it right before your feet. “You are to fight the enemy and not to admire their lot.”

You feel so much love for this girl. Even more than you have in stock for your three older sisters and the rest of your large family.

She stands in front of you, her fists pressed into her sides. “Why do you betray everything that I believe in?”

You have no useful explanation for her.

“Why do you hate me so much?” she asks, looking so young and vulnerable.

“It's not always about you, Cassie. I must follow my own conscience as to who is the enemy.”

When you step up to your godchild to take her into your arms, she surges forward and hits you hard into your face.

“Don't!” she commands. “Never touch me again!”

Your right hand moves over the already hurting cheek.

“I will not tell anybody what occurred tonight, but I do not want you to ever speak to me alone again.” She crosses her arms in front of her, reminding you of Lord Vader somehow. “When Zev and I will announce our engagement next month, you will not attend the party.”

Biting your tongue, you listen to her.

“Stop coming around as often as you used to! Simply become a stranger for Daddy and me. For I would to hate answer questions about your defection to the authorities.”

With that Cassandra turns around, opens the door and leaves.


Sources:
The song “Supergirl” by Reamonn (2000)
Wookieepedia – The Star Wars Wiki
Jedipedia, a free German Star Wars-Encyclopaedia

 

Ow! That is heart-breaking but very much in character.

 

Aww,sigh I guess given events in Rebels, that had to happen but it hurts. Alex now paying for being loyal to the empire for most of his life and passing that on to Cassie. But that said, we'll written to make it hurt so much!

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: October and November had been full of heartbreak for me, but RL evens were able to fuel my fanfic writing a lot.

Since the weekend I am more into Christmas cards, especially for friends, acquaintances & folks who live abroad.

Plus I did some forest animals with aquarel colours.

@DarthUncle: Even Disney shows us about hurt non-stop.

Remember what the nice Tusken lady from the local SW Dinner said to us on Saturday night: "There is not a single Disney movie that does not deal with a lot of pain for the hero or heroine. May it be that somebody close dies or that conflict is experienced otherwise!