''You have a visitor,'' one of the Crimson Guards announced in a monotone voice.

For the first time in what seemed like days, Barriss detached her gaze from the ceiling and blinked, surprised. In fifteen years of imprisonment, no one had ever bothered to pay her a visit and on the rare occasion that she left her cell she was not permitted to see anyone, though she wondered who she would talk to, if not the ghosts that haunted her day and night. Ghosts do not talk, she always whispered before going to bed, cursing the war under her breath as she fell asleep in the middle of the night, straight as a needle in her cot.

All her friends were dead, having been slaughtered by the clones. Or at least, that's what they told her. She didn't care, because part of her thought that even if they'd lived, they wouldn't have come to see her after what she'd done. Can I blame them?

''Who could possibly...''

She didn't have the time to finish her sentence: the door slid open to reveal a tall figure with a black mask and a matching cape draped across his broad shoulders. The stranger told the guard to leave them alone and without further warning he advanced towards Barriss' cot in a stride, as if he was above space and time laws. His black mask glistened under the neon lights of her cell. The next time she opened her eyes, it had turned completely black as he had taken a step backwards, becoming one with the shadows on the wall, the only indicator of his presence being the buttons on his chest.

The man - Barriss knew it was a man - reeked of power. Pure, undiluted power. She would have given anything to possess that power once. But now that she was facing it she wasn't sure she still yearned for it. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Those lines had been etched in her mind for fifteen years, and she had repeated them so many times that the words didn't seem to bear any meaning anymore.

She had lost her passion the night her friends had died and since then her strength had been subdued, kept under control by the strong walls she had put up to shield her dormant rage. Only now were the walls beginning to tremble, having awakened for the first time in his presence. She sensed a challenge.

''I can feel it, Master. It is the will of the Force,'' she whispered, trying not to think about the disappointment she knew her old Master would feel at the prospect of her siding with the enemy, for it was clear that he was on the Dark Side. He would have been a deceitful foe, once. But perhaps now he could be a powerful ally.

She knew the man could read her thoughts, but she didn't care. She hadn't seen anything worthwhile in a decade and was yearning for some kind of action - anything that could distract her from her morbid thoughts.

She was cuddled up in the corner of the cot, hugging her knees. Before he came closer, he aligned his dark orbs with her blue eyes and closed the door with a swoop of his hand. It slid shut with a hiss and he turned his attention back to her.

''Good evening, Barriss,'' he said in a contorted voice. ''I was wondering what you'd become after all those years,'' he went on, his sentence punctuated by heavy breathing.

''I don't know who you are,'' she said with a hint of pretend fear in her voice. Let him think I'm scared. Let him think I'm unworthy.

The Force was unusually strong with him, that much she knew. That meant trouble. Which also meant that whatever this man wanted, she was in.

''I was afraid you'd say that,'' he replied. If she had been able to see his face, she was certain he would be smiling. ''I take it you haven't heard the good news then,'' he continued, his smile turning in a devilish smirk. ''Anakin Skywalker turned to the Dark Side.''

She gasped, genuinely taken aback. ''That's impossible. Master Skywalker would never...'' she trailed off, but he interrupted her.

''My padawan thought the same about you, young one. And yet... here you stand. Alive and well, while the friends you betrayed are all dead.''

No matter how much she tried to contain her rage, the wall she had spent years to build collapsed at once as he uttered those words, each one a slap in her face.

''How dare you,'' she screamed, rising up as she prepared herself to strike. She didn't have any weapons, but she didn't need them, for the Force was with her. This stranger would be a welcome distraction after all those years with nobody but her shadow to spar with. ''You know nothing about me, Sith.''

She attempted to push him away with the Force to get him out of her way, but once he sensed her intentions, he raised his right hand, levitating her body with the Force like she was nothing but a mere puppet. Suddenly, he was closing in on air, strangling her with the Force. She could do nothing but writhe in pain before him, her hands instinctively reaching for her throat. So this is how I die, she thought, Force-choked by a Sith Lord in my own prison cell. His grip was tightening around her throat and she felt her head become numb with the pressure.

''You don't have what it takes to beat me. It would be pointless to try,'' he said, releasing her. Just like that, she fell on the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. When she looked up at him, he extended his hand for her to take and helped her up.

''I didn't come here to fight,'' he said.

''You never told me why you really came here,'' she countered.

''Ah... yes. All in good time, young one,'' he responded cryptically. ''Now the only thing you need to know is that I mean you no harm.''

She didn't believe him, but didn't voice her thoughts for fear of awakening his anger. Anakin Skywalker was known for his quick temper, after all, she mused internally.

''I have something for you,'' he said after a pause. He detached something from his belt and held up it before Barriss, urging her to take it.

''A lightsaber,'' she pointed out unnecessarily. She took the weapon in her hand and studied it before tucking it under her cloak. One of Ventress' twin sabers.

''Don't use it just now or you will alert the guards'' he warned her. She nodded. ''You will need it if you want to escape.''

She imagined he would have winked if he could.

''Meet me up at Jabba's Palace in two weeks time. And don't be late or I will assume you have failed.''

With that he turned around and got out the door just as the guard was returning to his duty.

So the rumors are true then, Barriss thought. Anakin Skywalker is no more and Darth Vader has supplanted him. She chuckled. Who would have thought I'd live to see the day of Master Skywalker's demise?

Interesting as this new piece of information was to her, Barriss still had doubts over the man's intentions and was hesitant to trust him despite the fact that her instinct told her to do so and her instinct was rarely - if ever - wrong.

Over time the doubts grew stronger and prompted a series of questions related to the role he played in the Order's downfall, with answers each one more far-fetched than the other. Only one question remained worth investigating in the end: Was he the one who had orchestrated Order 66 from the start? Or was he simply a pawn in some mastermind's game, a mere puppet controlled by a master - much like she'd been once?

There were so many things to process all at once that Barriss gave up trying to answer them after she came to the conclusion that she'd have to extract more information from him before attempting to solve an incomplete puzzle. In order to do so, she would have to follow his plan to meet up with him, accept his request and hopefully not get caught in the process. Let's hope this is not a trap, she thought before falling asleep.