Chapter XXVI: Inquisitve Arrival

Administrator Milton - Ordel, Stone Town

''Listen, boss - all I'm sayin' ... ''

The mercenary put his feet on Milton's desk, a brown, rather crude looking beverage enclasped between his gloved hands.

''Eloren? She's a sweet girl, a real burner. But she's been pushing, you know? Stealing your thunder.''

Milton huffed at that, an aggravated glare directly at the bald gun for hire.

''Agent Eloren has been most helpful. As a matter of - ''

The gunslinger grunted at that, interrupting Milton without a single care in the galaxy.

''You're even talking like her. Men been thinkin' similar things, too. Say that she runs that entire show here. Arrogant schutta, that one.''

Milton formed a fist and slammed it on the table, throwing one of his countless datapads onto the floor in the process. It wasn't that he was angry at the mercenary - truth be told he couldn't care less of such a lowborn creature. It was that the knew those words to be true, even if his ego would rather die than to admit it. Did he truly believe that he too didn't hear those veiled whispers directed at him, claiming that every one of his achievements was gifted by the merciful Eloren? Like a parasite, those thoughts nestled themselves into his head, robbing him of what was left of the few hours of sleep he could muster every day.

''Eh, perhaps I'm just overblowing it. However - ''

An almost inaudible hiss penetrated the office as the mercenary uncorked his drink.

'' - one's gotta' ask himself whether she acknowledges your role in those fancy reports of her. To the Empire, I mean. Or the Emperor, even?''

Burning ire crawled upon his leg up to the top of his head, making one of his eyes twitch in an uncanny fashion. She wouldn't dare, would she? The Empire - no, Palpatine himself had to know about his use, his worth. He was the administrator of Ordel, one of the Empire's most loyal subjects! Eloren knew his worth, knew his wit. She had to.

''Nonsense. I will hear no more of this. Get out of here and do your job ... fool!''

He spat that last word with less force in it that he hoped for, sounding more like an enraged teenager than the high ranked politician he surely was. Granting the already leaving man a glare that would kill if it could, Milton took a deep breath, looking out of the window as he was once more alone in his office. This was his chance. His opportunity to prove to the higher echelons of the Empire that he was of unbelievable value. Though he had no idea what they were up to in that blasted mountain, Milton followed every command that arrived from the Inner Core to the letter. That had to be worth something, no matter the mercenary's pathetic attempts at riling him up.

Eloren? Pff, I'm in charge here. This is my city, my planet!

Milton lost track of time, seemingly lost in doubt until his terminal began to blink.

Great. Her.

Idly muttering to himself that he hoped that her visit would be a short one, he was soon faced with disappointed as the operative entered the room clad in her full uniform. Beneath her metal helmet, her eyes met his while the expression in her face soured even further, giving Milton a good indication that this wasn't a social call, more likely than not far from it.

''Agent Eloren. Have you any news? Have you discovered the source of those attacks?''

Once more, he tried to grant his voice the commanding aura befitting of a man of his station. And yet, in the end, he squealed like a little boy as Eloren threw both of her hands down the table, kicking a second datapad off of it as a consequence.

''Spare me. Have the man ready and brought into formation at the landing pads.''

Milton quivered slightly before he calmed himself. Eloren's tone was direct, dare he say aggressive? Yet it didn't seem to be aimed at him, at least not entirely. Something was up, he could feel it in his gut. Like a bad taste that carried itself through the air as a foul stench.

''W-Why? What is happening? Are we under attack?''

Hastily, Eloren removed her helmet from ere she shook her head.

''That remains to be seen. We have visitors. Imperial. Highly ranked - their clearance codes are ... well. They aren't ISB. Honestly, if they are what they appear to be, they are beyond both our paygrades.''

What?!

What did that even mean? He glared intensively at Eloren, hoping to gauge her reaction for any additional information. What he saw made his limbs tremble though: thin pearls of sweat clung to her forehead as she steadily rocked forward and backward on her feet, her teeth biting down on her lower lip, imprisoning those words within her mouth that Milton would have just loved to hear.

''I ... it will be done, Eloren.''

Quickly, his fingers danced over his terminals, tipping in the order as fast as humanly possible.

''Those codes, Eloren ... I'm sorry but what did you exactly mean by that? Are we talking about ... the Senate? Ambassadors? Someone from the Inner Core, perhaps?''

The idea alone made him more uncomfortable than Eloren ever could. It wasn't that he was ashamed of Ordel, at least not anymore. Ever since he took office, he worked tirelessly to integrate the people within Imperial culture, a fact that was reflected from everything ranging from the countless Imperial banners that decorated the streets up to the very most basic levels of education itself. Gone were the days of Stone Town's unjust council and its political parties. Gone were the days of that utter moronic fool Loche and his former sister in law. There was only the Empire now - with him as its face.

And he was okay with that.

He did, however, fear that those blasted insurgents would dare to attack if words of such visit would reach the public. That he couldn't allow.

''If my thoughts are proven to be correct, you will soon understand. It is not my place to say. I won't risk my head, not now.''

Milton gulped at that. Her head? Surely, she was being metaphorical. Right?

Right.

They made their way to the landing pads, unspoken uneasiness following both of them like a shadow. As they arrived, the troopers were already in formation, their white helmets rigidly turned forwards as they waited for their guests, whoever they may be.

As if on unholy command, an Imperial Lambda-class shuttle descended from the blackened skies. Praying to every deity he could think of, Milton clasped his hands together behind his back and pulled in the air around him, presenting his chest proudly as the shuttle landed in front of them.

''Who ... who are those people, Eloren?''

The first thing he saw was black helmets glaring back at him, lifeless eyes hidden behind red glass as they marched out of the shuttle, their arrival overshadowed by a most curious creature standing in the middle of them. A thin, almost corpse-like alien clad in dark armor walked in front of them, his visage a mixture between arrogance and sadism. He carried some sort of metallic disc in one of his hands whilst the other rested behind his back. Milton remembered the name of this species: Pau'an. But why would Imperial soldiers escort this strange alien to Ordel? And why did it carry the insignia of the Empire on its armor? Who is ... he?

He marched towards him, his yellow eyes threatening to take away his remaining sanity second for second. Milton wanted to leave, to run as far away as he could. With every step he crept closer, his uneasiness grew tenfold. And as the Pau'an stood in front of him, it felt as if his blood turned to ice.

''Administrator Milton and Agent Eloren of ISB, I presume. How charming.''

His voice was sharp like a dagger, the hidden disdain behind his fake friendliness even sharper. He lifted his other arm and unveiled a thin datapad, handing it towards Milton without looking at him.

''The three of us will be working much, much closer with each other from now on.''

The alien walked through the both of them, followed by his strange troopers, one more brutish than the next. Milton looked at Eloren with panicked eyes, a gesture that was quickly followed by her own fears.

''Oh, before I forget ... ''

The Pau'an turned around and glared at both of them, revealing his sharp teeth as he grinned at them in a wicked way.

''I'm the Grand Inquisitor.''

Cal - Ordel, the Remains of the Mantis

''If the Empire is able to get their hands onto this, everything we've ever worked for, everything we've lost ... it will be for nothing.''

His eyesight wandered between Trilla and the Ninth Sister - no, Masana, as she was called. It was almost unbelievable, he thought. It wasn't that long ago where both of them tried their best to kill him and now, it seemed as if the Force has brought them together as allies. An ironic twist of fate.

Cal trusted Masana, even if he could see how that would seem foolish to some. The fact that she was here at Ordel, hiding away in the Mantis in the exact moment Trilla and him were looking for the others - it was the Force that worked through her. Whether he liked it or not, he could feel that his fate was now bound to the former Inquisitor, just as it was bound to Trilla. Though he couldn't know in what way, Masana was now part of this journey, wherever it might lead them.

Sadly, that didn't do much to dispel the worry when it came to Trilla. Cal could understand her reaction to seeing her former 'Sister' easily - and yet the ferocity and her usage of the Dark Side came almost natural, too natural. Tapal's words echoed in his head, quaint whispers of one final injustice trying to jump off of his tongue. He hoped that Cere would be able to help him because - well, he just couldn't do it. He wouldn't be able to harm her, not after everything that has happened. It was wrong and unworthy of a Jedi.

Yet he couldn't help but feel as if he was in danger while he was merely around her.

Speaking of Cere, Cal had no idea how to find them. He knew her, she wouldn't just hide away in Stone Town somewhere. Not for an entire year, at least, with or without the Empire on her doorsteps. Yet he also doubted that she'd be able to leave Ordel, even if she wanted to. The Empire was here in full force and ready to stay. Any ship that was left would be checked, thoroughly.

Except if Merrin used her strange ritual again.

''Damn it!'' he cursed as he looked at his companions. He put his hands onto his hips and sighed, lifting his eyes towards the sky.

''How can we know whether Cere and the others are even still here? She's an expert slicer and Merrin's Nightsister magic could fool even the Empire.''

Trilla grunted at that. She shook her head as he regarded Stone Town's skyline, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she did so.

''No. Cere ... she wouldn't leave, not with the Empire around. Too many people to save, her savior-complex no doubt grounding her here. Thank the Force, I'd say.''

Perhaps. Still, he didn't want to add that a lot of things could've happened in one year and if Trilla's fragment of a second of doubt in her face was any indication, he wasn't alone in that regard.

''Yeah, right. Listen I have no idea what a Merrin is or ... anything worthwhile about this Cere, really. Nothing outside of her file, at least. But I know the Empire. Such a hotspot like Ordel is guarded like a fortress, both on the surface and in space. Constantly updated security protocols, new codes - all that stuff. Slicing won't get you that far here.'' Masana added.

''But - '' she continued quickly ''we don't need all that. Between the two of you, there's certainly a way to feel her presence in the Force, even after a year ... if you focus enough. If there isn't ... well, then she isn't here anymore and we can move on.''

Cal shrugged and looked to Trilla. That could work, couldn't it?

''That could work. Even if it means that we lower our defenses in front of her.''

''You were always a stubborn schutta. How did you put up with that for all of that time, Kestis?''

Masana rocked her head towards Cal, grinning teasingly as she did so. Trilla only huffed at that, rolling her eyes ere she took a step back.

''Well, no better time than the present. Past. Future? Whatever ... '' Cal stated, following Trilla closely.

The group marched over towards the Mantis, taking shelter from the violent wheater as they kneeled down onto the floor. It hurt to see the Mantis like that. Without that ship, he wouldn't be here today. He would've probably died back at Bracca, killed by the very same people he now surrounded himself with. It deserved better than serving as some sort of ruin on top of Ordel's stone mountain.

''Are you going to be alright?'' he cast his eyesight on Trilla ''with the Force, I mean. I know that your connection to it has been ... rocky, ever since the Fortress Inquisitorius.''

At least until she picked up the Holocron. But he didn't want to say that.

''It's been ... difficult. Under duress, I can call upon it. But outside of such circumstances... ''

Trilla glanced at Masana, disapproval mounted in her face.

''We'll speak more about this in private.''

He sighed at her words. Cal knew that this would be difficult. But they came too far to give up now.

''Alright'' he stated ''follow my lead.''

His eyelids came crashing down as he calmed the rhythm of his heart, taking deep breath after deep breath as he steeled his mind. The Force was everywhere, within and without. Not only in him, Trilla or Masana, but in the very trees and stones around them, in the birds that ruled over the sky and the insects that reigned over the ground. Through the Force, they were all connected - and it was that connection he now called upon.

He didn't know how long he sat there. His mind expanded exponentially, scouting the lands for the Jedi that once saved him. The only thing he felt, however, was darkness. People without happiness or hope, bowing before those that would take away everything from them. Hidden whispers and secret thoughts, all dreaming of freedom - a freedom that was out of their reach.

All out of sudden, there was something, something near him. Light, yet with a dark storm brewing within.

Trilla.

He guided his senses towards hers, trying to take her metaphorical hand into his own. His spirit joined hers as Cal didn't dare to let go of Trilla, guiding them through the chaotic streams of the cosmic Force. He thought of Cere or to be more precise, both his and Trilla's shared memories of her. Of the time she arrived on Bracca, coming to his rescue at the last minute. He thought of Trilla, jumping onto the ship's nose and using the Force to try to take hold of the vessel. He wondered whether Cere knew back then that it was Trilla under the armor. If she did, Cal felt sorry for her. To see your own apprentice held hostage in her own darkness was something he wouldn't wish for his worst enemy.

Then he let his mind wander, back to the Fortress. Cere and him facing off against that dark monster, Cere saving Trilla's life before all hell broke loose. The start of their shared journey, not as enemies but as allies. Friends. Perhaps a family.

Come on. I need ... something. Please.

His mind drifted further. And although he could feel how he became more and more in touch with the Force, he just couldn't sense Cere. There were too many people, too much suffering that besieged his thoughts. The Empire brought misery with them, too much misery to ...

His mind conjured up an image. It was him in the kitchen of the Mantis, a warm beverage in front of him. Merrin sat next to him, giggling like a madwoman about some stupid joke he told her. It wasn't especially funny if he remembered correctly. I didn't need to be, Merrin found his attempts at humor to be endearing nonetheless. And if it made her laugh, so be it. He could play the fool - an easy task for him. He enjoyed her company, that was all that mattered.

Cal had to smile at that memory. It was one of the good days, a rare commodity nowadays. No Inquisitors, no Empire - only them and whatever they wished to talk about. A true blessing.

Suddenly, at the back of his mind, he could feel a surge of power build up within. A house. Farmland. Hills. Weapons and plans. Treason - no, liberation. A resistance. The image took him, held him by his hands as it pulled him through the house, shadowy figures dancing around them as he was taken upstairs. Cal was brought into a hallway, all but one door blurry to his eyes. Then, the door disappeared in front of him, revealing a dimly lit room. There, he found what he was really looking for:

Merrin.

He gasped for air as he opened his eyes, both the hands of Trilla and Masana trying to shake him awake.

''Damn it, Kestis. Are you alright?'' Masana asked as she pulled her hands back.

''You were gone for almost two hours.'' Trilla added to that, looking at him with some concern in her eyes.

Two hours? Force!

He shook his head, trying to anchor his thoughts back in reality. The angry weather had stopped, replaced by the rising sun on the horizon and accompanied by the sounds of nature's critters waking up from their deep slumber.

''Two hours? Sorry, I lost track.'' Cal stated apologetically ere he regarded Trilla with slight worry ''are you alright?''

''Yes. I lost you some minutes in, sadly. I just waited for you to return.'' Trilla said with slight irritation plaguing her words ''No matter, the more important question: have you found anything?'' she asked.

''I ... think so, yes. I saw a house ... some sort of farm, perhaps? There were people in there, shadows. I don't quite know who they were but ... Force, I saw Merrin!''

The Grand Inquisitor - Ordel, Stone Town

In quiet meditation, the Grand Inquisitor - leader of the Inquisitorius and thus agent to the Emperor himself - reflected on the information he was given by Milton and Eloren.

Milton knew nothing, but that suited him well. All he needed to do was to keep his people in line and manage the Imperial infrastructure planetside. An easy enough task for anyone that had even half of a brain, or so he thought. And yet, from what he has gathered from the reports, he failed even at that. Two cells of insurgents, one more radical than the other, threatened the peace the Empire brought to the planet, and yet, Milton has not managed to crush those insects as he should have.

The Pau'an grunted at the mere thought of it. Milton was a fool, that much was clear. He wouldn't be surprised if the man had already reached his limits. He was just disappointed that apparently, even the ISB couldn't root out the problem. True, he himself wasn't here for the insurgents. His duty was to oversee the exploration of the ruins found in the mountains - the same kind of ruins found on the barren surface of Syntra. And though neither Vader or the Emperor have given him much in the way of information, they have given him almost limitless resources to accomplish his task.

Even a fool like Milton would have to realize that whatever was going on up there was important. He wouldn't be here otherwise. They'd have to destroy those insurgents before they turned into a problem, lest they'd risk the wrath of the Emperor himself -

What?

There was a hushed whisper. A strange, almost nonexisting presence that rippled through the Force. The Inquisitor focused on it, calling upon the Force to listen closely to it. He saw flashes, nothing remotely comprehensible. Yet those flashes soon turned into images, volatile pictures that told him everything he wanted. He saw what had to be a man and ...

Well. What a surprise.

He grinned in a devilish way at that revelation. It all made sense now - the ruins, Synta. Them.

The Grand Inquisitor came to Ordel to oversee the Emperor's pet project. He'd leave Ordel as both a Jedi killer and an executioner of traitors.

''Trilla Suduri and Masana Tide, at last.''