Chapter 28: Second Sister

The meeting with Vader, which I had feared so much, never happened. A portion of the officers were simply ferried from one Star Destroyer to another via shuttles.

But even from that distance, I felt it, the bone-chilling terror radiating from that Sith Lord, penetrating to the very marrow of my brain. His presence was impossible to ignore, even across the vast vacuum of space.

I could only pray to whatever gods I knew that he wouldn't decide to visit the Inquisitorius while I was stationed there.

However, my anxieties soon evaporated under the onslaught of new "festive challenges" from my Master.

The Grand Inquisitor hadn't been lying. For exactly one month, practically without a break, I did nothing but train. If I thought the previous workload had been intense, it now became clear how easy my life had been before. Back then, I had time for sleep, for food, for keeping myself presentable. Now, I learned to sleep standing up—anywhere, anytime.

It felt as though the Master wasn't a sentient being of flesh and blood, but a wound-up machine that knew neither mercy nor fatigue, never even considering a pause. He was by my side the entire month, yet I never saw a shadow of exhaustion on his face from lack of sleep.

Was that why the training was so brutal? Was he taking out his own sleep-deprived irritation on me? A few times, I could have easily died or ended up a cripple. Praise be to the bacta tanks; I pulled through.

Previously, I had been given at least some theory regarding what I was supposed to do. Now, everything was reduced to endless sparring. Though, it would be more accurate to call it forced reaction-honing under any and all conditions. How did that kriffing sadist justify it?

"You have enough information in you; now you must learn to apply it in life."

Several times, I had to literally run from the Master in the corridors. Apparently, someone had forgotten their saber in their room and was naive enough to believe they were safe outside the training hall.

It’s an incredibly unpleasant feeling when a crimson blade ignites around a corner and nearly takes your head off, and you didn't even sense his presence! Once, I nearly sliced myself open trying to block with my bare arm.

Such things happened often. We had settled on the lower levels of the Inquisitorius, where most of the corridors were made of reinforced transparisteel, preventing tons of seawater from crushing everyone inside.

Bless the architects of these levels!

Mostly, he attacked me when I was moving through the inner chambers, which, for safety, were made of metal several meters thick.

But I have to admit, the method had its merits. I began scanning the area around me constantly, everywhere I went. My precognition sharpened to the point where I could use it almost continuously. The techniques of two different lightsaber forms began to fuse into a peculiar style that only I practiced.

There was another feature to this strange symbiosis I was developing: my system now included moves based on deactivating the lightsaber mid-swing to bypass a guard before delivering a precise strike. If the gambit failed, I’d have to circle the enemy, waiting for a moment or shifting back into a standard combat pattern.

The lack of sleep forced me to meditate at every opportunity. Otherwise, my mortal shell would be found unconscious in one of the Inquisitorius corridors. And I wasn't at all certain the Master would bother transporting my carcass. I wouldn't be surprised if he gave me a solid kick just to see how much life was left in me.

But it wasn't just training. A few noteworthy events occurred that added some color to this bleak month.

For the first time, I got a close-up look at a living Jedi. I must admit, I expected something more from our arch-enemies. A dark-skinned woman in tattered Jedi robes, her long hair braided into an incredibly complex arrangement on her head. She hung like a lifeless weight in the arms of the Purge Troopers. Two dozen standard soldiers in white armor escorted the grim procession.

They marched down the corridor toward the interior of the station, heading for the cells specifically designed to hold Force-sensitives. Those same cages had once held half the acolytes from our group until they were finally broken. Well, it seemed they wouldn't be empty for long, especially if this Jedi possessed information about other survivors.

If she knew something, she would talk. The vaunted "Jedi resilience" is an exaggeration. Only a few can withstand the specialized torture.

I’d seen the local interrogation apparatus; in fact, I’d spent some time in one. To be fair, I deserved it. Attempting to Force-shove the Master into a lava pit in one of the training rooms during a fit of rage wasn't the smartest thing I’d ever done. Although, truth be told, the attempt almost succeeded.

I was even praised at first, before being sent to the cell.

And then the Hutt-cursed impulse took me to swipe a couple of blasters and use them for a follow-up attack on the Master. Apparently, he took great offense at the unplanned scorch mark on his armor. I was a bit shocked myself that I’d managed to hit him, especially since I was guiding the weapons with the Force.

For that stunt, I experienced the indescribable sensation of multiple electrical discharges that made my body contort so violently that, without the steel shackles, I would have certainly dislocated half my joints. As it was, I only managed a quarter. Haa. That was enough "excitement" to last a lifetime.

"Watch closely, apprentice."

Speak of the devil. The black-clad figure had appeared behind my shoulder without a sound. Kriff, I need to keep the scan active at all times. Though, if he truly wants to hide, it’s not guaranteed to help.

"How the Jedi have fallen. Even ordinary humans are now capable of hunting them down. Though in this case, we were lucky that everything went according to plan."

"What happened, Master?"

"That... Jedi." He spat the word with such superiority that there was no doubt about his opinion of her. "She ran straight into our squad. She simply couldn't react in time. We know she was traveling with younglings and a Padawan. They are being actively hunted now. Well, Cere was never known for her skills or her intellect, a foolish, naive girl who couldn't see past her own nose and blindly believed in the Council's ideals. Let’s see what we can do with her."

"You know her?" I was genuinely surprised. "From where?"

"I was once a Jedi Knight as well." Was that a faint note of sadness in his voice? "I realized how little the Jedi were doing, how the Order had rotted. We had the Force; we could have influenced the galaxy, taken everything into our own hands. But the donkeys on the Council were stagnant and refused to change. For my ideas, I was relegated to the Temple Guard."

A short pause followed. My Master was lost in memories of days long gone. I waited; the conversation was turning into very interesting territory. Finally, he spoke again.

"It stayed that way until Lord Sidious revealed the secrets of the Dark Side to me. I alone cut down most of the Temple Guard and opened the way for Lord Vader."

I distinctly heard the Master’s teeth grind at the mention of his rival. The Dark Side flared in the Force, not that there wasn't plenty of it here already. Cold, unadulterated hatred flooded the air. If I hadn't shielded myself in time, it might have affected me.

Quickly regaining control, the Master stood before me, apparently deciding to end his trip down memory lane.

"Here is a prime example for you. One Jedi is unable to cut through a few non-sensitives. Meanwhile, an adept of the Dark Side kills dozens of Jedi in battle. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wonderful. Then let us reinforce that knowledge in practice."

I could only sigh and follow him into the training hall, silently hurling curses at his back.

The second event happened a few days before my term ended. The Jedi escaped!

You could say she buckled under the weight of her own weaknesses. As I predicted, she broke and gave up all her charges. Among the small children was a fully grown girl.

This talented individual managed to kill three Purge Troopers single-handedly. I admit, that’s impressive, not every acolyte is capable of that. But they were all caught eventually.

Then began the process of "breaking" the children. It’s an unpleasant thing, morally, yes, but far more so physically. Even from a distance, the Force carried the echoes of what those test subjects were feeling. I had grown accustomed to such emotions during my training, but they were still a distraction.

Even when I shielded myself, they somehow bled through my defenses. But I couldn't exactly go to the jailers and say:

"Stop it! You're keeping me awake!"

They’d charge me with treason and fill me with blaster bolts. I don't need any extra holes in my body. So, I had to try and soothe them slightly through the Force, just enough so they wouldn't twist in agony and I could get some rest.

Kriff it all. A person is a creature that can get used to anything. But the Jedi apparently couldn't reconcile with the fact that the younglings and her Padawan were suffering because of her.

And the Grand Inquisitor turned out to have a very specific sense of humor. After the conditioning of Trilla, the eldest of the captured children, more of a young woman now, was complete, he showed the results of the Imperial torturers' work to Cere. I had never felt such a surge of the Dark Side before.

Even on the island, it wasn't like this. It’s one thing when the Dark Side builds gradually; it’s another when it erupts like an explosion, releasing an unthinkable amount of pain and rage.

A kilometer away from the epicenter, I heard a soul-shattering scream resonating in the Force. The metallic structure beneath my feet visibly shook. It’s a very unsettling feeling when you’re deep underwater.

By the time I left my room ten minutes later, it was over. Massive holes in the metal doors and walls, as if smashed by a giant battering ram, didn't give me much motivation to chase the prisoner.

Corpses of Stormtroopers were scattered everywhere across the floor and walls. The reddish emergency lighting of the base played bizarrely across their white helmets.

Blood covered almost everything, creating grotesque patterns. The soldiers' bodies were sprawled in all sorts of positions. One had his head simply crushed. An entire squad had been choked simultaneously with the Force. Some poor soul had even had his head torn off.

If not for my experiences on the island, I would have definitely vomited at the sight. As it was, I kept it inside. But still, it’s one thing to see blaster marks and lightsaber cauterization, and quite another to see a slaughterhouse like this in person.

So much for "pacifist" Jedi. At least a hundred kills, and all with her bare hands. A Jedi fallen to the Dark Side is a massive headache. Now more than one Inquisitor is going to get tired chasing this Cere down.

The Master departed immediately in pursuit. But he didn't return before the end of my training period.

On one of the final days, while I was lounging on some crates doing absolutely nothing, the Second Sister, as Trilla was now called, approached me. She was a rather attractive young woman with soft chocolate skin. Black hair cut into a bob framed her generally pleasant face. Her nose was a bit large, but that’s a matter of taste. If not for the dark circles under her eyes and the signs of recent torture, she could be called beautiful. Her lithe figure completed the picture.

Tight black trousers emphasized athletic legs, and a slightly modified black officer's tunic unsuccessfully tried to hide some pleasant curves.

If only she didn't look at everything with such arrogance. Sometimes a pleasant face becomes repulsive simply because of a wrong squint or a curled lip. That was her.

"Listen to me. The Grand Inquisitor says your mission is canceled. It is my task now."

How well everything was turning out. I felt it was better to train more before a real mission. And frankly, I didn't want to deal with it. I didn't need the extra attention right now; returning to the station for another year sounded perfect.

"If that is his will, then who am I to dispute it?"

She measured me with a disdainful look. How lovely. She was clearly still in the honeymoon phase of her Dark Side turn. I’d read notes from a Jedi describing this effect, and I’d seen it myself in some acolytes.

It feels like you’ve started breathing after a long stay in a stuffy room. You’re bursting with new energy; you want to release it along with your new emotions. You try to master it, but the more you consume, the more you want. That’s why most ordinary Jedi went insane so quickly after turning.

I wonder if the Inquisitors get hit by it too? My Master seemed to be holding up fine. You couldn't even tell he was once a Jedi. A born Sith sadist, through and through.

The girl turned to leave, but how could I let her walk away all puffed up like that?

Without a second thought, I grabbed a piece of scrap metal and threw it at her. To her credit, she dodged it.

"And how am I supposed to take this?" Her voice was literally dripping with venom, and her yellow eyes narrowed dangerously. "If you don't give me a satisfactory explanation, you’ll be soaking in a bacta tank for a week. If you survive, of course."

"Will you have the strength? There might be a..." I hesitated because I didn't actually remember my age. Let’s say fourteen. "...four-year difference between us, but that doesn't mean you're stronger than me."

It was clear that in another moment, she’d try to kill me. Bruising the ego of a newly turned Force-sensitive is a recipe for disaster. But perhaps it was just the nervous tension of the month coming out.

"To prove I'm not just talking, I propose a duel in two hours."

"Accepted." It felt like she was about to explode from the rage she was feeling. "Just try not to show up; I’ll rip your heart out."

"I believe you. Do you mind if I invite a few acquaintances to watch the show?"

"I don't care if I beat you with witnesses or without."

"Super. See you soon, beautiful."

Without waiting for an answer, I hopped down and headed toward the Purge Trooper training hall.

Though I didn't have much free time, over the month I’d managed to strike up a decent friendship with a few clones, despite our developmental differences. Specifically developmental, most of them were biologically the same age as me. Ah, the wonders of accelerated growth for artificial humans.

I remembered the words of... what was his name? Heh, I really don't remember his name. Did he even have one? Doesn't matter. Anyway, if stability was a struggle, hand-to-hand combat came naturally.

Training alongside the troopers here really sharpened my close-quarter combat. I learned fast—how to strike, how to move—as if I were remembering long-forgotten skills. But some moves were completely unknown to me, and I had to practice them tediously.

The loud clanging of metal on metal and heavy grunts told me I was close. The usual pair, and I had to stop at the door to avoid squeezing through the crowd.

Owl and Mole were hammering two metal droids specifically designed to train troopers against Jedi. They were almost identical to the ones we had.

Owl's twin batons seemed to live their own unimaginable life, beating a frantic rhythm on the enemy's body. If he hadn't been born a soldier, he definitely would have been a musician. He moved so fast it looked like he had four arms!

And this was a regular human. For me, as a Force-adept, such speed wasn't phenomenal, but he wasn't one!

Mole covered his back, taking out any enemy that tried to flank them. Despite his nickname, he was the best marksman in the squad. He got the name because he preferred to dig in so deep that only the top of his head and part of his blaster were visible. Everything else was safely hidden underground.

Apparently, the boys wanted to set a new record on the range. Obviously, metal dummies are weaker than most Jedi. Nevertheless, they were training 5v1 coordination.

And here was a 2v2 spar. Man, these guys were completely unhinged. Probably kept in the tubes too long. But they were managing to hold their own against the enemies.

A few minutes later, tired and breathing hard but satisfied, the boys looked around. All the machines were lying on the floor, showing no signs of life. The crowd of their brothers-in-arms exploded into respectful cheers, whistles, and applause.

Even those who lost their dinner in a bet were happy. Their 43rd Special Company had set a new record.

When the excitement died down, they finally noticed me.

"Ten-hut! Salute!"

"At ease, skip the formalities. That was a hell of a show you put on."

"Doing our best, sir."

"Stop calling me that. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Faint smiles appeared on their faces. They knew they could joke around with me, so they were letting off steam.

"So, soldiers, want to see a show that's just as entertaining?"

"From your hands, we'd even take poison, sir."

"Shut up, you idiots." But a smile crept onto my face despite my words. "If I were a normal Inquisitor, what would you do? Come on, jokers, who’s answering?"

"I am, sir." Mole took a step forward and, pointedly closing his eyes, blurted out: "As my friend from the 501st used to say: if you piss off Lord Vader, it's customary to run onto a saber and die! Preferably fast, otherwise it’ll be painful too."

"Exactly. And what would you do if I were like the rest?"

"We'd shut up and be afraid."

"That’s right. That’s how you handle normal Inquisitors. And who are we?"

"We’re the particularly unhinged and particularly gifted, led by a no less terrifying leader, sir!"

The guys started treating me like one of their own at the end of the second week of my stay. One of them had annoyed the Grand Inquisitor; if not for my intervention, the kid could have easily been shortened by a head. Although I have to admit, I was at fault in that situation. Who knew the blasters I swiped were his, and not just from general stores?

I had to make up an excuse for the soldier on the fly and save him from my Master’s cruel tendencies. Good thing he was called away on urgent business then, and later he seemed to forget entirely.

After the rumors of my stunt with the Master and the punishment for the "offense" spread among the soldiers, the guys came up and offered to train together. Apparently, they thought I was sent to the cell because I protected their man. Though my Mentor heard about that too...

Suffice to say, the clones had a rough time. But we bonded quickly, so when I become a full Inquisitor, I’ll try to get these guys under my command.

"That’s right. Now, why did I come here... Ah yes, have you met the Second Sister yet?"

Their faces twisted as if from a toothache.

"We have. Not the most pleasant person. It’s easier working with you or the Grand Inquisitor than with that... lady, yes."

"I have a spar with the Second Sister in about an hour. Coming to watch?"

"You certainly know how to surprise us. Are you sure about your decision?"

"Absolutely not, but it’s better to show her what her abilities are worth now. More importantly, I need to test my own strength. Here I have a serious opponent and a high chance of not dying. I am a future Jedi hunter, after all, and the Second Sister’s power is on par with theirs. Meet me in the main hall in an hour."

But my plans weren't meant to be.

I ran into the Second Sister in the corridor as I was walking slowly toward the hall for our rendezvous. She was power-walking toward the turbolift.

"Beautiful, what about our bet? It’s impolite to keep the audience waiting."

"We’ll settle our business later." Irritation was literally spilling out of her. "Urgent order from the Emperor. They’ll send for you too. Don't go anywhere."

And she sped off down the corridor. Where could I go on a "submarine"? Or a base, in this case, but same difference. What happened over there? Rebel Jedi Masters pouring out of the Unknown Regions in a swarm? Unlikely. All that's left is to wait.

Informing the guys of the sudden change in plans, I decided to spar with them instead. But they were also suddenly pulled away ten minutes later. So I had to go to my room and meditate for a couple of hours.

The beep of my comlink snapped me out of the trance.

"Fifth Son listening."

"Imperial order: return to the training base immediately on emergency status. We are waiting for you in Hangar Three."

What the kriff is going on?!