AN: Hello once again, and welcome back for part 3. As is tradition, updates will be Monday and Thursday.
Please Enjoy.
.***.***.***.***.
The halls of the Vehement we abuzz with activity.
Near the hanger at least. As Cal followed Trilla deeper into the ship, the frantic activity that came with relocating the rescued crew died down until it disappeared into the steady goings on of the Star Destroyer.
All along the way, Cal was acutely aware of the fact that he still had his lightsaber hanging from his belt. None of the personnel they passed seemed to notice, and if they did none of the gave Cal nor Trilla a second look.
Drifting slightly behind Trilla as she walked, Cal clung to a distant hope that he might be able to slip away unnoticed.
The hope didn't last long as Trilla came to an abrupt stop at a door. Cal wasn't sure what part of the ship they had ventured to. Having spent most of his time near the stormtrooper's quarters, he didn't recognize these halls. A quick mental check against the layout of a Venator class left him to think that they were a few floors below the bridge, but he couldn't be sure.
Either way, the door opened with a hiss, with Trilla stepping to the side to face Cal, "After you."
Suddenly tensing, Cal gave the Second Sister a distrustful look before peering into the room. Unassuming and non-threatening as a meeting room could be on this ship, it held a large central table and a second smaller one against the wall.
Fully expecting some kind of terrible surprise, Cal kept his guard up as he stepped through the door.
Rolling her eyes at the theatrics, Trilla silently stepped in behind Cal.
They said nothing to each other as Trilla moved to activate the holoprojector that sat embedded in the center of the main table. Cal busied himself with leaning against the small table and warily eyeing Trilla.
Sure that he was out of the holoprojector's range, Cal watched a ghostly blue projection pop into life as Trilla turned the machine on.
The image was of a man. Thin, obviously pale, even after Cal accounted for the cold tones of the hologram. He had no hair, nor even eyebrows. The only feature on his face besides a pronounced ridge above his eyes were sharp lines that dropped down over his starved cheek bones and other markings that sat near the top of his elongated head.
Cal didn't recognize him, but he did recognize an unnatural glint of light that came from the man's otherwise darkened eyes.
"Grand Inquisitor," Trilla stood straight-backed as she spoke to the hologram, all but confirming Cal's suspicions.
"Second Sister," the man spoke with a slight core-world accent, staring straight ahead before his glowing eyes took a long look to the side, "And your charge?"
"Here." Trilla answered, swiveling the display to the side just far enough that Cal was sure he appeared at the edge of the other persons display.
A cold silence lingered as the Grand Inquisitor stared at Cal through the display. It took all Cal had not to flinch.
"Interesting." The man in the hologram said before his eyes swiveled back towards Trilla, "Your mission was a success, but not enough to redeem your last failure."
Trilla knew that the Grand Inquisitor was trying to goad her into a reaction. It had worked, in the past, but she had long since grown wise to his ways.
Seeing his adopted apprentice know better than to rise to his challenge, the Grand Inquisitor continued, "but fetching lost crews is a task below us, isn't it? I have a real mission for you, one that I presume your eager to return to."
A sinking feeling washed over Cal. Whether or not it was from the sickly aura of the Dark Side that was somehow strong enough to emanate through the hologram, or because he had a terrifyingly short list of missions that Trilla might have to return to, he didn't care.
Either way, the Grand Inquisitor blinked away, replaced by an image that left Cal's breath caught in his throat.
"The Stinger Mantis," The Grand Inquisitor's voice spoke over an image of the familiar ship, "It was recently detected leaving Kashyyyk's atmosphere for destinations unknown. I believe you're familiar with the crew."
Cal fought to keep his expression blank, glancing between Trilla and the ship, and sharply aware of the fact that he was being watched for a reaction.
"Yes, Grand Inquisitor." Trilla didn't seem to flinch at the familiar sight.
Why would she? Cal realized, She was hunting Cere long before we met, and now she's probably trying to finish off Greez and Merin too.
"Both of you," the image of the ship disappeared, leaving the Grand Inquisitor to stare daggers at Cal once again.
Cal felt his skin crawling.
Resentful that the two inquisitors were even pretending that he was part of their team, Cal muttered a reply, "Yeah."
Making careful note Cal's lingering defiance, the Grand Inquisitor addressed Trilla once again, "Make for Kashyyyk. Spare no mercy in discovering where the ship has fled, you can't afford to lose it again."
Trilla moved slightly, Cal would have thought that she tensed out of fear, if he believed she were cable of such things, "Yes, Grand Inquisitor. I will alert the admiral to his change in course."
"Very well," The hologram flickered, just long enough for Cal to think that the Grand Inquisitor looked at him once more before quickly looking away, "and, be advised that the Mantis crew has outlived their usefulness. Kill them."
Not waiting for The Second Sister's reply, the hologram disappeared in a blink.
"I'm not helping you hunt Merin and Greez." Cal immediately said to Trilla.
"If you don't want to go to Kashyyyk, I'm sure that your cell at the Fortress is still available."
Cal involuntarily flinched at the very idea. Still fresh memories of steel blades and hissing lasers tearing into him for weeks on end washed over him. His time on the Vehement shouldn't have been enjoyable by any stretch but, in comparison, the Star Destroyer was paradise.
"I didn't think you would be that eager to return," Trilla pressed.
Backed into a corner, and afraid to admit that he was afraid, Cal said, "I know what you're trying to do."
"Oh? Enlighten me then."
Trying to ignore Trilla's obvious attempt to annoy him even more, Cal gave a flat answer, "This all goes back to your stupid comment; 'as long as you pick the answer that the empire wants you to make, you'll be rewarded.' You want me to go to Kashyyyk. You want to do or see something screwed up that's going to make Greez and Merin seem bad and the Empire seem good. And then you're going to do something that will make me want to fight them. And if I don't, you're just going to throw me into the torture chamber until I'm finally desperate enough to leave again."
A small hum of acknowledgement came from Trilla, "An astute observation. Perhaps you're not as dull as I thought."
"What's the matter?" Cal decided that now was the time to be just as irritating to Trilla as she was to him, "Mad that I figured out your evil plan?"
The attempt did grate at her, but she knew that she still held the upper hand, "Not particularly. Whether you know what's happening or not, it will still work."
Quickly losing the little bit of the advantage he thought he had, Cal bit his tongue before he said anything else that Trilla could work with.
"If anything," Trilla continued despite the silence, "It will be all the more entertaining to watching you struggle against the inevitable, knowing what's happening but being powerless to stop it. Now, will you be joining me on Kashyyyk? Or should I have the table cleaned and readied?"
Carefully considering the lightsaber on his belt, Cal was silent for a long moment.
Trilla didn't move, though she was ready to reach for her own weapon in the blink of an eye.
Even if I cut her down, then what? Cal thought back to the conversation they had in the hanger. Scarcely an hour ago he had the same sequence of ideas: fight the Second Sister, cut through scores of Stormtroopers, some he'd just rescued, some he'd just fought beside. And why? Just to die in a ship that I can barely pilot? Just to get captured again?
Pressured by his own grim thoughts, Cal flinched first, "I'm not going back to the Fortress."
"As I thought." Trilla didn't try to hide the smug sense of satisfaction from her voice, "I'll alert the admiral, we set course for Kashyyyk."
Done with this conversation, Cal turned for the door, muttering to himself as he went "That'll make Beryl about as happy about it as I am."
Trilla overheard the snarky comment, "He will learn to live with it."
Cal was pretty sure Trilla meant for her comment to apply to the admiral, and to him as well. Saying nothing, he kept walking.
"And Cal," Trilla called, stopping him just before he stepped out the door, "don't misbehave, else I'll have to revoke your lightsaber privileges."
Back facing the inquisitor, Cal didn't even try to hide a grimace from his features.
The weight of the weapon on his belt was at once reassuring, and daunting enough that it threatened to drag him to the ground. A tool and a piece of himself, as well as a reminder of how much he had fallen. Proof that Trilla -at least- no longer saw him as a threat.
Wordless, Cal stepped into the hall.
.***.***.***.***.
BD-1 scampered down hallway after hallway, quickly ducking into whatever hidden alcoves he could manage at even the most distant hint that someone might see him.
He'd managed to download a schematic of the Star Destroyer. It, along with the room number that Cal had supposedly been assigned to, being his only guide through the massive ship. Luckily it seemed to be enough, as BD quickly found himself passing barracks after barracks.
The little droid's confidence wavered slightly as the large communal rooms gave way to narrow halls, but a doublechecking of the ship's schematics told BD that these lead to dorm rooms for the non-commissioned officers. Suppressing a worried hum and whistle, BD continued his journey through the sinister halls.
Surviving a couple more close calls, BD came to one unassuming door in a hall filled with unassuming doors. Checking and rechecking that he was in the right place, the little droid huddled behind a blast-door frame. It wasn't the best place, and it only hid BD from site from one direction of the hall.
BD hadn't seen Cal in weeks, and he wasn't sure who else might be behind that door. But BD knew that he couldn't hide in this particular corridor for long, occasional echoes of conversation coming from the large barracks halls and making the chance of being discovered painfully clear.
Straining his audio receptors, BD knew listening for movement inside the room was a lost cause, and his old trick of hoping through the air vents wouldn't work, they were actually maintained on this hall and sealed tight.
Growing antsy, BD braced himself and made a simple run for the door. Hopping up to open the thing, BD hit the ground with a thud before quickly rushing into the room.
Not a second after he did, the door shut with a hiss. Trying to take in every detail of the place at once, a rush of excitement, adrenaline, and a little bit of unease threatened to overclock his processor.
An empty room, neatly put together with furniture set into the walls and a freshly made bunk bed greeted the little droid.
Finally somewhere private, BD let himself make a long and confused whirr.
Seeing no superficial signs of Cal, BD quickly took to searching the place. Opening desk drawers and the cabinet under the sink found nothing of value, though BD did spend far too long riffling through the odds and ends in the desk closest to the door. The closet held nothing besides stormtrooper armor and a few spare, black, uniforms. Slamming the closet shut harder than he had meant, BD was dismayed to find that the drawers below the hanging section revealed much of the same.
Growing more agitated by the second, BD double checked that he was in the right place. Hoping that there had been some sort of mistake, the little droid was left to make a series of irritated beeps and chirps at whatever cosmic forces might be listening.
Throwing a fit didn't make the little droid feel any better. Reconsidering his options, BD searched for a place to hide while he rethought his plans.
Noting that the cabinets seemed frequently used, BD settled on the empty crawl space beneath the bed.
Sitting in the dim light beneath the bed, BD impatiently tapped his foot.
The data logs had said that Cal would be here. The map said that this was the right place. By all rights, BD should have stepped out of the hall and into a long-awaited reunion. He'd done everything he could, but what if it wasn't enough?
What if the data log was wrong? What if Cal wasn't in this room because he was off in some prison? What if he was on a different ship completely?
A small, mournful, whine slipped out of the droid.
What if he had lost Cal for good?