The young Jedi Padawan sprinted down the narrow banister, terrified to fear, because fear led to the Dark Side. His friends he left behind, unsure whether they were dead or alive. Many were dead, he acknowledged reluctantly, the sounds of their screams and agony still echoing through his mind. He tried not to think about the boiling lava below, or let his nose take in the smell of the putrid, sulfurous fumes, or feel them waffling upwards, trying to claw and boil against his skin even as he ran hundreds of feet above it. It seemed ridiculous, in hindsight, that the Jedi would set up a training camp on this rotten, no good moon, but where else were they safe from the Empire? Well, no longer Mustafar, Tru Veld thought.
Seeing the platform on the other end of the beam, he quickened his pace, his only hope lying on the rare chance there lay a ship in the hangar ahead. And what if there was? If he could get through the blockade, what would the Jedi think if he returned, a sole survivor? Should he swing back and see if there were any others who survived the Sith onslaught? That would ensure his demise, and while he fervently hoped to survive this ordeal, it was not his life he was necessarily worried about, rather than what he knew. What only he and his Master knew. His late master, eviscerated by the Sith in front of his own eyes minutes before.
A soft and almost angelic voice floated through the volcanic gases into his consciousness. "Going somewhere, Jedi?"
He turned and saw a petite human saunter along the railing ahead, almost as if she were out for a relaxing night's walk. She was female and looked to be a few years older than himself, her long brown hair tied neatly into a bun, her red lightsaber, though lit, dangling casually by her hip. She could be beautiful, Tru thought, her porcelain face flawless despite the long scars that ran across her forehead and right cheek. Contrary to her gait, her yellow eyes gleamed viciously as she stepped up towards the end of the banister, blocking his way forward. Gathering his feet so that he wouldn't slip and fall to his death, Tru Veld lit his weapon and brandished it before him.
"Come at me Sith," he cried with more courage than he actually had. "If I die, it will be a far nobler death than anything you'll experience in life."
The Sith woman laughed at him in contempt. "Such chivalry from a Padawan. Yet, your shielding is weak. I feel your fear, the pulsing of your cowardice. Give me what I want, and I may yet let you live."
"Never," Tru screamed, charging forward.
Sighing, Padmé deactivated her blade at the sight of the charging Jedi, and extending one hand, shot towards him a furious stream of lightning at the boy. Though he managed to block the initial onslaught with his saber, the force of the attack threw his feet off balance, and as he stumbled and struggled to regain it on the narrow beam, his hold on the lightning wavered, and soon his entire body was engulfed in its tortuous painful embrace. Taking full control now, Padmé levitated the boy into the air, nothing but Sith lightning and her own willpower keeping him from falling into the lava below.
"Where is the Jedi base," she screamed now, no longer toying with the Padawan. "Where do you hide the Chosen One?"
"I'll never tell you!"
"Then we'll never leave," Padmé hissed, bombarding the vulnerable Padawan's minds with dark thoughts, projecting all of her own fear, her own pain, thrusting them into his mind. "I don't need to eat. I don't need to sleep. I will stand here for all eternity for the sole reason of making you suffer."
"Nooo! Please!"
She said nothing in response, only intensifying her attacks, putting her entire soul and essence into it. Finally, the boy gave in.
"Tatooine," he croaked, lips moving but this voice barely audible. "They're on Tatooine..."
"You are wise to surrender," Padmé said, a devilish smile gracing her face. At once the lighting ceased, and the Sith floated the Jedi over, so he stood suspended before her. "A clever ruse, Tatooine," she said, almost talking to herself.
"What are you going to do to me now," Tru asked weakly.
"I will kill you. But first," she said wickedly, delighting in the abject fear and hopelessness in the Jedi's eyes, "I don't think you've suffered enough yet."
Lighting her saber, she sliced at the Jedi, cutting through his abdomen with a wound guaranteed to be painful, yet not fatal. As he screamed in agony, she loosened her grip on him through the Force, letting the body drop lamely down to be engulfed by the fire. Satisfied, the young Sith paced gracefully back towards the main camp, where the beautiful sight of dozens of dead Jedi bodies littering the facility greeted her.
"Initiate Amidala," a deep, stern voice called at her, and she turned abruptly and knelt before the Sith Lord.
"Darth Hurdis," she said meekly at the man once known as Inquisitor Mace Windu, before he was elevated to the Council and given the title Dark Lord of the Sith. "What is your will?"
"You had strict orders, Amidala," he said coldly, angrily. "My orders. Stay with the group. Do not stray. Do not venture off on your own. Yet what did you do?"
"But milord," Padmé said, gathering her composure and trying to remain calm, "I found..."
"Do not interrupt me, scum," Hurdis yelled, and without warning, struck her harshly in her face with his closed fist. Once she was on the ground, he unleashed Sith lightning onto the young woman, just as mercilessly as she had done to the Jedi moments before. Crouching on the ground in a fetal position, Padmé gritted her teeth, knowing there was nothing she could do but wait for the torture to end. Nothing she could do now, of course, but picture again and again the day in which she could cut open Hurdis's throat. Not even with her lightsaber, but the old fashioned way, with a vibro-blade. She would cut slowly, savor every second as his flesh teared...
"Lord Hurdis," another woman's voice interrupted, and thankfully, the Sith Lord's attacks ceased as he turned to Depa Billaba. His favorite, everyone knew. His right hand woman. Some said, though never to his face, his lover, though that was hardly an appropriate word for the sexual activities of Sith. And soon to be member of the Council, if Hurdis had his way. If this mission could prove successful.
"Inquisitor Billaba," he said. "Any sign of the Padawan Veld?"
"None," Depa replied, and Padmé bit her tongue. In her rage at her superior, she decided to hold back her knowledge for the moment. Hurdis and Billaba would likely take credit for her discovery anyway. Not that she expected any apology from a Sith, but she knew it mattered little whether she was right or not, whether she accomplished her mission or not, such were the politics of the Sith, and her own place within the Order as a lowly initiate.
Depa continued. "Ry-Gaul refused to talk, but we managed to get ahold of his ship, mostly intact. We found traces of matter found only on the Dantooine system."
Hurdis nodded in satisfaction. "Very good, Inquisitor. We will report to the Council on the return journey. I trust the Emperor will be most pleased by our discovery."
"Thank you, Lord Hurdis," Depa said, and Padmé saw the older woman give her a glancing look, one of contempt, the Inquisitor gloating openly. "Soon we will wipe out the last of the Jedi, and the rule of the Sith will be secure."
"As for the girl," Hurdis, said, kicking at Padmé, still lying in pain on the ground, "take her to the interrogation chambers."
Even Depa seemed surprised by his pronouncement. "Lord Hurdis? Did she betray us?"
"No," he replied with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. "But yet again, Initiate Amidala seems to have little regard for my orders. She will learn. She must learn, and given that have no captives to bring back to Coruscant, we must find some thing to keep the skills of our interrogators well honed."
The Sith Lord departed without another word, and several stormtroopers rushed in at once, slapping Force binders onto her wrists and pulling her roughly towards Hurdis's flagship. Even as her mind braced for the tortures to come, Padmé smiled, a plan forming in her mind. One that will sow the seeds of her own triumph, and the demise of Hurdis and all who kissed shamelessly at his feet. Her revenge was so close, she could taste it on her lips, and that was all she had to get her through the hours ahead.