They took Cal to the dojo.
He recognized the wide-open room in the short glimpse that he managed as he was thrown to the ground.
Face flat against the cold floor, Cal took his time to work his way to standing. Left on unsteady feet, he was just beginning to recover from the near bone-splitting strain of electricity that he'd endured only moments ago.
The dojo was largely the same as it was the first time he'd passed through. Long red banners marked with a black imperial seal hung on the walls. The middle of the floor was meant to move, grates over more thermal vents.
The doors were shut. Those that he came through, and those that has supplied wave upon wave of enemies last time he'd passed.
What he hadn't noticed last time was a balcony over one of the doors. Meant to be an observation platform for a trainer, it didn't jut out over the room so much as it was a cove carved into the wall.
More importantly, a single figure stood on the balcony.
Clad in black and wearing a striking cape, the Second Sister stared down at Cal.
Immediately tensing, Cal feared that he might have been thrown into a fight to the death against the inquisitor.
Seeing her head tilt slightly, Cal was left to realize that she could sense his growing fear. Quickly overtaken by a persistent irritation that his emotions were getting the better of him, Cal did what he could to stand up straight. The little look of defiance he managed was carefully faked.
Trilla could tell as much.
While she would have preferred to toy with the Jedi, slowly chipping away at his resolve, she had less than a week to get him into a manageable enough state to travel with.
Without a word to the obviously confused man in the room, Trilla flipped a switch on the balcony.
One of the doors whooshed open. Three over eager purge troopers came surging out of it.
Trilla didn't care for the black-clad toppers. Zealous to the point of being rabid, she thought that their bloodthirsty desire to die in battle was almost sad.
The three troopers came to a pause between Trilla's balcony and Cal. Each brandishing a different weapon, Cal found himself sizing them up, remembering which was the biggest threat, and which one he could easily avoid.
They're all dangerous as long as I'm unarmed. Cal realized as he took a small step back.
In perfect time to respond to Cal's thoughts, a dispassionate flicker of movement came from the Second Sister. With it, a silver-gray dot flew through the air before landing with a heavy clatter.
For the first time in weeks, Cal laid eyes on his lightsaber.
At first frantically reaching out to it through the Force, Cal stopped himself.
This is a trap.
The Second Sister watched the Jedi's thoughts in real time, he hid them from his features so poorly.
She didn't have time for him to hesitate, meaning to goad the purge troopers into the fight they so desperately wanted, she uttered a single word, "Begin."
Cal looked up at the sound. At the same time, all three of the troopers surged forward.
One fired a blaster. A second charged, brandishing an electrostaff and ready to strike.
Made slow by several weeks' worth of wounds, Cal barely managed to dodge the charge. As he dove to the side, a still fresh wound split open on his back.
Gasping at the tear, Cal didn't see the third trooper approach.
Swinging an electro-baton in a wide arch, the purge trooper landed a heavy blow across Cal's chin.
Reeling and staggering back, the impact almost sent Cal sprawling across the floor. As he put one uncoordinated foot behind the other, Cal once again narrowly avoided a swing from the first purge trooper.
The unmistakable taste of blood filled Cal's mouth. Losing the pain from the strike across his chin among all the other aches that plagued him, Cal only thought as far ahead as he needed to avoid another heavy blow.
Dodging one well-coordinated attack after another, Cal knew he couldn't keep this up forever. Snapping electricity hovered around the purge troopers' weapons, sometime passing so closely that Cal could feel the hairs stand along his arms.
More than once the plasma fired by the trooper with a blaster singed Cal's tattered prisoner uniform.
A trooper swung.
Cal stepped backwards.
A trooper threw a grenade.
Cal narrowly jumped out of the way as it exploded.
And on the onslaught went, each time the troopers drawing closer to Cal.
Huffing and exhausted, sure that this was gong to end in a beating or worse, Cal dodged a little to far to the side.
The third trooper was waiting for him. Swinging wide with batons once more, they landed a cracking blow to Cal's side.
Grunting under the force of a fractured rib, Cal didn't get the chance to recover before the staff wielding trooper closed in.
One blow landed after the other, coming from all directions and impossible to see, let alone dodge.
Caught in a trap. Caught in a blind panic, a wild terror gripped Cal.
In desperate need of space, Cal pushed out with the Force.
Harder than he had meant, the three attackers were thrown back. Two toppled head over heels as they flew across the room. One corrected himself, tumbling once before channeling his momentum into a controlled roll.
Caught in the moment, experiencing more than thinking of the dozens of hurried battles and rushed attacks he'd faced, Cal reached out across the room.
In an instant his lightsaber rushed from the floor, darted across the room, and flew into Cal's outstretched hand.
Not in the usual zen-like state that he tried to channel in a battle, not calm or controlled, not any of the things a Jedi should be, Cal ignited his saber without a second thought.
Popping upright an instant after the Jedi reclaimed his blade, the purge trooper raised his blaster.
But he didn't fire.
Stopped. Forced to a stop by some invisible thing. Slowed to a fraction of his speed so that the whole world seemed to move in a rushed blur around him, the purge trooper was left to watch his enemy approach.
Like so many times before Cal advanced on his Force-slowed opponents.
Unlike any time before, Cal was angry and desperate has he brought his lightsaber down.
Pale blue plasma crashed into black plastasteel, cutting a glowing gash across the purge trooper's chest. Sparks leapt from the dark trooper's armor, the scent of burning flesh following close behind.
Set in a motion that he had no control over, Cal swung again. Again, and again. Dark energy in the room curled around him, goaded him on. Fear dripped from the walls, and the only thing that could make it go away was an uncontrolled rush of anger.
Cal had been here before. He'd felt the dark energies in this fortress, in this room. But this was different. Then, he'd been on a quest to save a list of children, and the Empire had stood against him.
Now he was fighting for nothing more than survival. Nothing more than another day to suffer through.
Cal swung again, not fully aware that the trooper had stopped moving long ago.
Blinded by rage, he didn't notice the other troopers standing and rushing him. Suddenly knocked back, Cal dropped into a familiar roll, the still-fresh wounds across his shoulders and back screaming in pain.
Snarling, Cal landed on his feet. As he did, he pulled through the Force at the nearest purge trooper.
The trooper recognized the sensation from his training. Leaning back and digging his heels into the ground, he fought against the invisible pull.
Cal recognized the move. It had worked to defy him dozens of times before, but the anger and fear and the Dark Side didn't have the limits that Cal was used to. Cal yanked through the force again. The soldier's boots made a harsh squeak and then thud as he flew scarce inches above the floor.
His flight ended on the hissing blade of a lightsaber.
Dropping the second purge trooper, Cal didn't stop to think before he suddenly rushed forward.
His legs groaned, but the pain did something dark with the Force. Driven onward with more ferocity than he'd known before, Cal suddenly stopped in the face of the third purge trooper. His blade moving just as quickly as the rest of him, not even Cal was sure when he had landed a fatal blow.
In a blink, the third and final trooper dropped dead to the ground, glowing gash trailing from collar bone to hip.
Drawing in a shaking breath, the adrenaline of battle suddenly snapped away, leaving Cal to look at what he had done.
Three dead, one of them mangled. Cal's hand shook, but he couldn't drop his lightsaber. A tool meant to protect, it did its job well as a cruel weapon.
As reality crashed down over Cal, the fiery energy of the Dark Side stubbornly clung to him. Feeding off his fear, it was a temptation that promised power and control over his fate.
Closing his eyes, shaking his head, Cal had nearly shaken off the dark call when the doors on the side of the dojo opened once more.
A company of stormtroopers rushed in. Blasters drawn and trained on Cal, one of them barked a series of orders that he didn't fully hear.
Whatever the trooper demanded, Cal didn't do. The panic, the sudden thought that he would have to fight again tore away what little resolve Cal had. Overtaken by the Dark Side once more, Cal didn't think twice before gripping one of the troopers through the Force and sending him sideways through the rest of the soldiers.
They fell one after the other, shots going wide. Cal caught a few plasma bolts on his lightsaber, one of them reflecting into the crowd and burning through a trooper.
Cal didn't think before rushing forward, fueled by nothing more than the need to make to troopers go away.
This time he only got a step in.
Crackling waves of electricity shot out of the collar around Cal's neck. His body tensed, legs locking in place and threatening to give out beneath him.
But he didn't fall.
Agony screamed across his skin and bit through his bones. Any other day, any other time, it would have dropped him. But the fear, the pain, the rage, the desperate and confused need to survive, fueled his resolve.
They fueled the Dark Side.
Pain became fodder, just another thing driving him on. The Dark Side was a burden and a boon, a twisted tool that kept him standing and alive.
It was terrifying. It was comforting.
It was the first time Cal felt like he had some control in weeks. He'd taken the Empire's torture, the pain, and now he could use it against them.
Stopped but recovering his stance, Cal clung to the Dark Side. Pulling at it, he threw his saber at the now recovered line of troopers. The pale blue thing whipped around in a wide arch. Cutting through the line, the blue-white light was lost in a bath of bright red sparks.
Recalling the saber, Cal took a defiant step. Electricity still cutting through his flesh, he ignored the pain, but he was still barely able to move.
Only a few troopers remained. Wildly firing, Cal felt the fear rolling off their shots. Focusing on that rather than the bolts themselves, he reflected each with the smallest movement of his sabre.
Step by miserable step, Cal gained ground on the survivors. Consumed by nothing more than the need to stay alive, he reflected bolt after bolt until he came close enough to cut through the troopers.
If they raised their blasters in defense, Cal didn't notice. The troopers fell in single strikes, caving in on themselves with heavy thuds and mangled armor.
Swinging away in a blind rage, Cal didn't notice that he was alone until long after the last trooper stopped moving. Electricity still cutting through him, Cal was only left standing by the power of the Dark Side.
But it didn't last. No longer under the threat of death, Cal looked to the ruined room. At first enraged and then terrified by what he had done, he desperately tried to shake the influence of the Dark Side. It was a stubborn thing, fed by the stinging electric shocks as much as he was weakened by them.
The electricity won in the end.
Exhausted by himself, Cal's muscles stiffened along currents of snapping electricity. Giving in to the defeat, knowing that it was the only way he could escape himself, Cal collapsed.
Dropping to the ground and writhing in all the pain he'd tried to ignore, Cal was only distantly aware that his lightsaber had left his hand.
The Second Sister had dropped down from her perch. Strolling across the dead, she nonchalantly called Cal's saber via the Force. Collecting the thing, she came to a stop over Cal.
He looked pathetic, curled on his side and huffing like a frightened child.
Wordless, she roughly kicked him onto his back.
Coughing and looking up, Cal didn't have the chance for a deep breath before the Second Sister put her boot on his chest.
He'd just killed several people. He'd done it before, but this wasn't the same. This had been nothing more than a Dark Side fueled massacre, and he'd done nothing to stop himself.
Looking down at her prisoner, the Second Sister saw the defeat in his eyes. Her plan was taking far longer than she wanted, but it was working all the same.
Throwing salt into Cal's fresh mental wounds, she had one piece of advice for him, "Don't hesitate next time."
Next time. Cal nearly gagged on the words.
Defeated, he didn't fight back as a fresh handful of stormtroopers rushed around Trilla and roughly yanked at his arms. Holding Cal's weapon, the Second Sister took a step back and watched.
Limp, exhausted, and afraid to resist, Cal let himself be dragged away. He was going to die on that torture table, but now he was sure he deserved it.