One

Aboard the Daedalus

Death by torture wasn't the way Ganner Rhysode wanted to go.

No. Somewhere up high amongst the stars behind the controls of his X-Wing, obliterated into tiny molecules while saving the universe. A hero's death suited him just fine.

But this?

This was not a good death.

"Tell me what I want to know."

Slumped in a metallic chair, Ganner tilted his head back and cracked a bloody smile. It seemed like every inch of his body was on fire, starting at his toes and slithering upward into his head. He coughed, winced at the pain in his lungs and spat on the floor, spittle mixed with bright red blood in front of his captors' booted feet. "You're not my type, sweetheart."

At first there was that quiet clicking sound, a button pushed with a perfectly manicured fingernail. Then torrents of electricity shot through his body. Slowly, white smoke twirled upward and it held the putrid stink of burned hair. The pain in his muscles was immense but he refused to scream. He wouldn't make a single sound.

And then suddenly it was over.

For about five seconds.

Ganner had just enough time to blink sweat from his eyes before the red-headed schutta hit the button again. His body jerked up from the chair but there was nowhere to go with his hands bound tightly around the back. Muscles snapped taught, tendons rose from beneath his skin. Seconds of agony turned into an eternity of white hot pain.

"Are you done toying with me?" She lifted her thumb from the button, lips twisted up into a sweet little smile. Maybe in some parallel dimension she would have been pretty. She was all female, which was abundantly clear given the tight combat suit painted onto her body and she had a nice face, too. But her eyes gave the evil away. It was like looking into the burning tar pits of hell.

"Who said anything about toying?" Ganner tried to breathe normally but given how many volts of electricity had run through his body, it was difficult. "I'm not into red-heads, that's all."

She purred at him as she came closer, quiet little taps on the floor when she swayed her hips from side to side. Ganners' eyes were glued to the little device clutched in her hand. It was so clichéd that he almost laughed. For a moment he imagined he was stuck in some cheap action flick and just before he died, his friends rescued him.

It was a nice fantasy at least. He knew for a fact that no one was going to come get him.

"Pity." She said quietly, setting the device aside on a low table just a step away. It was a different kind of torture, letting him actually see the instruments that might or might not lead to his death. He foresaw a shavit load of pain in his immediate future.

Ganner swallowed when she picked up a thin silver laser scalpel, the kinds used by field medics in war zones. Depending on which level the laser was set, the things could cut through bone like butter. Fear made his heart hammer against his ribs. He wasn't too keen on losing body parts after all.

She held it firmly in her hand as she turned to face him, red hair framing an elegant face. No wonder the Empire used her as a weapon. She could blend into almost any scene, a perfect actress.

Two steps later, she was standing in front of him. "I'm not going to kill you." She moved her free hand along the inside of his thigh and then straddled his shaky legs, always making sure the laser scalpel was in his line of sight. "Killing is so messy. And I don't like messes."

She led her fingers up his abdomen, along his chest and around his neck until she could grab a portion of his hair. She tugged his head back roughly. "I feel your pain. I sense your fear." Her breath was warm against his cheek, a deadly whisper. "I like it."

Ganner breathed in deeply, disturbed by the fact that his beautiful captor smelled like a field of roses.

"You will tell me what you know." She went on, her lips touching his ear. "You will give me every little detail about the Rebellion. You will tell me everything."

"I won't."

"I will break you, Ganner Rhysode."

"You can try."

She kissed him, a hard kiss so cold it almost made the blood freeze in his veins. Teeth bit into his lower lip as she pulled back. "Tell me what I want to know."

He answered with a scream as she went to work with the scalpel.

"I see you're still chasing ghosts."

Startled, Kyp Durron looked up from various reports scattered on his desk. So preoccupied with his thoughts, he hadn't heard Mara Jade enter his office.

He frowned. "Get out."

She had no business being anywhere near him, period. Bad enough they had to breathe the same air. If it were up to Kyp, he'd have shot her ass out an airlock years ago.

She tsked him, coming closer while eying his little collection of historical reports, folklores of various planets and reviews on an ancient artefact Kyp was searching for and he'd been at it for the better part of ten years. Frack...had it truly already been so long?

I am not obsessed.

Yeah.

And maybe – just maybe – if he told himself this often enough, he might actually believe it.

"You do realize that all this is only a myth." She spread her arms to the sides, gesturing to the mess Kyp had made within the past – he looked at the chrono in his desk – five hours. A quiet sigh escaped his throat but he didn't respond to Mara's quip.

"Leave, Jade. I'm not in the mood."

"Do you really believe that there's some all powerful artefact out there? Something to boost your power so you can rule the galaxy?"

"I don't want to rule the galaxy."

"Then why all this?" She grabbed an old piece of flimsy and waved it in front of his face. "If not to use it for your own gain?"

Kyp ripped the flimsy from her hand and narrowed his eyes. "Either you tell me what you want or you get the kriff out of my office."

She leaned her hip against his desk and lifted her lips into a sweet little smile. It was a mask, nothing more. "Our guest isn't being very cooperative."

"And?"

"He's being...difficult."

Kyp snorted. He knew exactly why Jade had come to him instead of one of the other Jedi on board the ship. He had quite the affinity for playing around with the mind and whatever Kyp wanted to know, he'd find out sooner or later. The only downturn was the numbing headache afterwards and since he valued his brain, Kyp tended to not involve himself in prisoner interrogations.

"Why should I care?"

She came closer, step by step, until Kyp smelled her sweet perfume. She touched him, a single finger in the center of his chest near his heart. "He knows things. Not only about the Rebellion but about your precious little artefact. He's delirious and he keeps whispering about the Jedi and the Sword. And since I know how..." She pursed her lips. "...obsessed...you are with this legend, perhaps you'd like to hear his ramblings for yourself."

Kyp ground his teeth together but kept his feelings covered by a blanket of calm. She had him alright and she knew it.

Smiling, she gave him a little wave and left his office. Kyp stared at the closed door for a quiet moment and then, cursing to himself, followed the wretched woman.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. Back when the Rebellion was still the New Republic, back when the Empire was still recovering from a near fatal blow by its enemies, back when life had seemed simple.

Throughout the years everything had turned from either black or white to grey. They lost perspective. Who were the good guys? Who were the bad guys?

No one really knew.

But Kyp remembered friends. Ganner Rhysode had once been a friend. In another life, in another time, long ago when things had been black or white.

"You look like hell." Kyp commented softly, crouching down in front of the other man. Jade had done a number on him alright. Ganner was hanging on by a single thread.

Countless incisions covered his bare torso, perfect little cuts, a shiny carpet of oily red. Kyp couldn't imagine the pain.

Hands bound behind his back, bare feet shackled to the metallic chair, Ganner slowly raised his head and met Kyp's stare. His eyes were empty.

"Save her." Ganner whispered between chapped lips. "She must live."

Kyp heard Jade's footsteps behind him, walking a path down the length of the interrogation chamber.

Click. Click. Click.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's our only hope." He was talking so fast, Kyp had trouble understanding the words. He kept repeating them over and over again, like a prayer, something to hold on to because he knew his time was up.

"Who is she, Ganner?"

"Save her. She's our only hope. Save her."

"Ganner." Kyp gripped the man's face and focused on black, dead, empty eyes. Whatever soul had once inherited Ganner's body had disappeared. Kyp focused on the Force and used it to break through Ganner's already damaged wall protecting his thoughts. It crumbled and opened up a doorway to Ganner's memories.

He saw a woman, a beautiful woman who seemed eerily familiar. Kyp was sure he'd seen her before but he didn't remember where. He saw a wedding ceremony, the woman whispering words of endearment.

"Save her." Ganner whispered frantically. "The Sword. You must save her. She's our only hope."

Kyp cut the connection abruptly, a frown on his forehead. He heard Mara's silent laughter behind him, her heels still clicking away on the floor.

Ganner stared at him, lucid, if only for a moment. "Save her, Kyp."

He drew one more breath before his body went into a fit, shaking and trembling, until he grew quiet for eternity.