CHAPTER 2

Into the Garden of Hell

"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

Nur, 15 BBY

Fortress Inquisitorious

Xur's face still suffered from heavy aches as he brought the Second Brother's TIE Interceptor down on his assigned landing pad, the heavy deluge pounding on the cockpit window. Not only that, but every word he uttered was met with discomfort as the emulator was still adjusting his vocal cords to project his voice a little higher pitched than normal. He silently thanked the Force that the Second Brother didn't have an accent, or he would've had to use a much more uncomfortable emulator that might've latched to his throat.

Not to mention the fact that the inquisitor was wearing his old helmet, the replica of the Sith Empire's Imperial pilots from millennia ago. How the bastard had come across it was beyond him, and the only thing he could come up with was that he had been tracking him for some time. The irony was that it took his own deliberate giveaway for him to actually find his prey, only to believe he had success for a moment, and have it swiped from him at the expense of his own life.

Xur personally ditched the cape, though. Fuck capes.

He laughed to himself, and then winced. With a shake of his head, he forced himself to ignore the bother the emulator gave him. Even if the device was untraceable by scanners, he didn't want a medical examination to risk that exposure.

If that was a thing here.

As the engines powered down, Xur stilled his breathing. The Force was already ravaging his senses. Whatever this place was, it was not one of decency or pleasantries, and he would have to learn quickly to fit in to the surroundings.

With one last study of the Fortress layout and a silent prayer to anyone that could listen, he opened the above hatch and let the downpour ensue. Climbing up, he gracefully dropped down from above, now taking in the surroundings. It seemed like most of the Fortress was actually underwater, while the top of it peaked out above the surface in a pyramid shape. Nothing about the architecture reminded him of the old Republic, which meant it had to have been either constructed in secret, or miraculously in the past four years.

As he approached the only door with the rain beginning to fog up his mask, it opened well before he reached it, and a squad of stormtroopers ran out, blasters in hand. Xur's instincts flared, and he could already feel himself naturally calling for his lightsaber, but the troopers assembled on each side of the walkway, facing each other to formulate a path for him to take.

He quieted his instincts, adjusting his stance to be more formal, something he was very bad at, and then proceeded towards the door.

"Sir," the first two said, and Xur naturally nodded in acknowledgement.

"Sir," the next two said, and he reacted the same.

"Sir," the next two echoed.

Every trooper he passed acknowledged and saluted him, which partly made him sick. Anytime a commander's squad had such formal loyalty usually meant they themselves had a pompous attitude, one of the most irritating qualities in a living being.

When he passed through the door, he was greeted by a tall and black armored Pau'an, which Xur immediately recognized as the Grand Inquisitor, his stance proper and straight, enabling him to virtually tower over the shorter zabrak. The Dark Side oozed from the man's every pore, and Xur could already feel his own immersion.

"Welcome home, Brother," he greeted, his expression mixed pride and glee. "It has been so long since you've returned, and it seems not without good purpose."

Xur cleared his throat, trying his best to pre-alleviate his vocal pain. "Yes, Inquisitor," Xur bowed, almost throwing up in his mouth as he did so out of disgust. "It's great to be back…here, although this fanfare is really unnecessary."

"Oh, nonsense," the Inquisitor smiled. "You've eliminated perhaps our most elusive target…and in such dramatic fashion. Because of you, Xur Eon is dead."

Xur shrugged. "In all honesty we should probably give the fall and explosion more credit. They did most of the work."

The Pau'an chuckled, revealing his razor-sharp teeth as he eventually turned and guided Xur to the turbolift at the end of the red and black hallway. "Your humility, as usual, is unnecessary," he eased. "You will find that we are very gracious to our honored members, and no expense has been spared for your accomplishment."

The two of them entered the turbolift together, and Xur felt his ears pop and readjust as they descended below sea level, down into the lower areas of the fortress…and the lower levels of the Dark Side. The deeper they went, the more Xur felt himself immersed in it; the strength it granted him, the vision.

The power.

He felt stronger than he ever had since his ill-fated duel with Palpatine, and part of him fed off it. If he was going to blend in, he had to, otherwise these inquisitors wouldn't need to see through his disguise to know he wasn't one of them.

"The Force is strong with you," the Inquisitor noted as the turbolift came to a halt. "It explains why you were able to best him, but I'm curious as to how I never noticed it before."

Xur partly seized, but expertly hid it away. "Ever since I fought him, I've felt more powerful than ever…as if I had always had this power, but it was dormant. Now it's awake."

"Perhaps so, Brother," the Inquisitor noted, prompting the lift door to open with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps so."

He led Xur down another hallway and took a right, leading to a large doorway that slid open to reveal what looked like a dining hall and bar.

With everyone waiting there for him.

They all rose, black and red armored troopers and inquisitors alike, stopping all conversation. Xur almost shivered from the staring.

The Grand Inquisitor stepped forward. "Inquisitors and soldiers alike, proud defenders of the Empire. Today marks a historic event, as a great threat to the security and prosperity of this great nation has been vanquished," he exclaimed, receiving small cheers in approval. "One of our Brothers has returned, wearing upon him the blood of one that has slaughtered many of our fellow peacekeepers," he continued, now receiving louder cheers. "He has done what many of us were beginning to believe was impossible. His power has shown us the true greatness that we all share, and the vision of a perfect galaxy…a galaxy without the curse of the Jedi Order!"

He turned to Xur as they all cheered. "Go on. Show them."

Xur nodded and removed his helmet. "I killed Xur Eon."

"Glory to the Empire!" one inquisitor shouted, followed by others.

The zabrak raised his fist and smiled. "Glory to the Empire!"

Everyone erupted in cheer, and Xur's smile widened.

They had no idea.


"…I dropped right in front of him and said, 'Boom, you lookin' for this?"

The small crowd around Xur's table laughed at his false reiteration of the Second Brother's attempt on his own life, and he smiled, drink in hand. Despite having a deep desire to kill everyone around him, he found it oddly entertaining to have the worship treatment for at least a night. The irony of it all was too good to pass up.

One of the larger male 'Purge Troopers', Xur remembered, leaned forward, drink in hand. "How did you get the drop on him? They say he can smell an Inquisitor a system away."

Xur suppressed a hysterical laugh at the ridiculousness of that saying. The inquisitors make themselves too obvious, that's what.

"I winged it," Xur replied, shrugging. The masterful pick that Vorchenko had made for the Second Brother not only made it easy for him to assume the role, but the inquisitor had been away for so long he hadn't formed many relationships with his fellow Jedi hunters, making it easy for him to start anew.

The trooper shook his head along with many others. "No, I don't believe that."

"It's the truth," Xur stood by his false story. "Sometimes you get lucky, or in his case unlucky," he got a few chuckles from that.

One masked female inquisitor bounced up and down with closed fists. "Oh, tell me tell me! Did he scream when he died? How loud did he scream?"

Xur scoffed. "Couldn't hear it over the-,"

"What were his last words?"

Everyone's eyes panned over to the modulated voice who interjected, their menacing and mechanical looking mask covering their features, but enough for Xur to pick out that they were at least female.

"Uh…last words?" Xur pretended to think. "I think it was like aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"

Everyone laughed at that, except her, predictably. He sensed a lot of animosity within her but couldn't pinpoint exactly towards what. If it was towards him, then that was their own death sentence. Xur imagined that 'accidents' happening in the training room wouldn't be as scrutinized as they were for the Jedi.

Of course, that also meant he'd have to watch his back as well, but the more of the herd he could thin now, the better.

He could feel the daggers she was staring into him even through her mask, and her crossed-arms stoic stance wasn't making him feel any easier. "Is there a problem, Sister?" he asked, which eventually drained out the last remaining laughs.

She pushed through the sitting troopers before her and leaned in. "I knew Xur Eon."

"Yeah, and my mother's a droid," the large dowutin female mocked, which he recognized as the Ninth Sister, prompting only chuckles from fellow inquisitors, while the troopers seemed to know better. "Save your brooding for another time, we don't need your depression infecting us all."

"Depression?" the Sister questioned, her tone screaming manipulation, even if she wasn't attempting to. "You misunderstand. I'm more elated than any man or woman in this room that Xur Eon is ashes in an Iridonian refinery, but I don't believe for a second that such a worthless worm was able to best him."

She was leaning nearly nose to nose with him now, but Xur was never one to be intimidated. He had no idea how the Second Brother would react, but it didn't matter. He'd make his own name now.

"You still haven't answered my question," Xur said, slowly rising to his feet. "Is there a problem, Sister?"

She said nothing, just stared, and Xur could feel her anger building, her animosity…her jealousy.

"Maybe if you spent less time lounging around here, you might've got to him before me," Xur suggested. "Not that you could've bested him anyway. I wonder how he would've killed you. Maybe a bisect-,"

Danger sense flared and Xur backflipped in time to dodge her sudden retaliation from her drawn crimson blade. He quickly reached to his back and drew the Second Brother's odd hilt, keeping the two circle tracks flipped forward for a single blade only. There was clapping from the other inquisitors and cheers from troopers as they stood off, and even the Grand Inquisitor simply stood from his perch and observed.

Guess this is just a thing.

She chuckled with sadistic delight. "I'm going to enjoy pulling you apart."

"I'm tough meat, sweetheart," Xur flirted, which apparently was one of the Second Brother's reputable traits. "You'd be at it awhile."

"The longer the better," she slashed heavily, in which Xur was able to block and swing back, only to see her deftly dodge with ease. In a quick countermove, she lunged and headbutted his stomach with the brunt of her mask, winding him unexpectedly. Her speed was unlike anything he had ever seen in an inquisitor, almost fazing in and out of existence with each of her movements. Xur trusted the Force to guide his defense, seeing every slash before it came, and doing his best to counterattack. He had to stop himself from using Vaapad since it would make his Jedi training origins far too obvious, which made stopping her all the more difficult.

She landed a kick to his knee, which made him grunt in pain and buckle his leg, and he barely stopped the decapitating blow with his crimson blade.

"Is that all?" she taunted as their blades locked.

Xur growled. He'd had enough of this.

With raw, force-enhanced strength, he pushed her blade away and somersaulted backwards. As she tried to lunge after him, he outstretched both hands and unleashed a hurricane-force push that knocked her off her feet and through two dining tables before finally coming to a halt against the durasteel wall.

He took a step forward, but a hand gripped his shoulder. "That's quite enough, Brother," the Grand Inquisitor implored. "I think you've made your point."

The zabrak kept his emotional output in check, but he knew he had lost control. The Dark Side was powerful enough here for him to feed off its energy, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it made him pay for its use. It had happened before…in fact it has happened many times over the span of his lifetime.

Maybe here, in a place so evil, he could learn to finally control and sustain that power.

"Perhaps that should be the conclusion of the festivities," the Grand Inquisitor announced, as the Sister who attacked him was slow to rise to her feet. "Return to your tasks, Brothers and Sisters. There is still much more work to be done."

Xur returned his hilt to his back and pulled his helmet from beside the chair he had sat in back to his hand, but before he could exit the dining area with the other inquisitors and troopers, the Grand Inquisitor did not relinquish his hold on his shoulder.

"Word of advice, Brother, since you obviously have become unaccustomed to our ways here," he warned in a low tone. "While your victory against Xur Eon may have gained you admiration from some, it has also multiplied your enemies," as he spoke, the Sister rose and gave one last look in his direction before leaving with the others, looking unfazed by any injuries she might have sustained. "The Second Sister is one of my finest students, and she had been searching for Xur Eon since she first donned that mask. We all believed she would be the one to finally end him, but you have taken that glory from her," he removed his hand from his shoulder and turned to walk away, perhaps back to his chambers. "I'd consider that, if I were you."

Xur appreciated the advice, but it was concerning that someone already knew he was out of place. If he was to survive, he'd have to be a fast learner, or eventually someone would sense that something was not right.

There was something about the Second Sister…something he couldn't place…some kind of feeling that was…

Familiar.


Anaxes Orbit, 15 BBY

ISD Sovereign

Vice Admiral Vorchenko settled into her assigned seat around the table in the meeting room of Sovereign, one of the Star Destroyers under the direct command of Grand Moff Tarkin. She was one of the first to arrive, as always, followed by the various high-ranking officers that had been invited to attend his "special" meeting.

The chair to her left was empty, and it was the largest of all, which was easiest to deduct that it belonged to Tarkin himself. To her right was Wulff Yularen, one of her old colleagues from the days of the Clone War, and the rest were other grey-uniformed men who had fought their way to the top through cutthroat politics and backstabbing. Being the only woman in the room never bothered her, since it had been the case nearly her entire life, but ranking misogyny had only increased with the rise of the Empire. She had watched other women of her stature be passed up for promotion after promotion, despite being far superior to their male counterparts.

Luckily for her, Tarkin was not as short-sighted.

She could feel some of their looks upon her, like scavengers circling a dying animal, waiting for her first slip-up to take advantage of such a vulnerable target. They had tried since she first began as an officer of the Imperial Navy, and they would continue as long as she remained one. Their clearly painted expressions exposed their intentions so perfectly it was difficult for her to stop a smile from stretching across her lips.

Tarkin finally entered the room, and their expressions faded. He, however, did not hide his glee. "Gentlemen," he said, situating himself in the chair next to her. "Today will be a day long remembered. I have just received word from the Inquisitorious that Xur Eon was killed on Iridonia."

There were knocks on the table as well as smiles of approval at the news, and Vorchenko used their ignorance to bend her lips into her own.

"This warrior, the Second Brother, has alleviated perhaps our most consistent headache since the Empire's inception. Now, with his death, we can bring about a swift end to the remnants of the treasonous Jedi Order," Tarkin shifted in his chair, his head turning to Vorchenko. "Congratulations are in order, for it was our esteemed Vice Admiral who discovered his location and subsequently assisted in his ultimate demise."

Smiles faded, and she could observe the joy draining from each of their faces, although less so from Yularen beside her.

"This achievement has not gone unnoticed by our Emperor, and it is his will that Vice Admiral Vorchenko receives her own token fleet…as well as a promotion to the rank of Admiral in the Imperial Navy."

Vorchenko was not easily caught off guard, but this level of reward was far beyond her own scripted expectations. With this level of control, she could…she could do far more than she ever envisioned.

"Outrageous," one officer protested, which she identified as Admiral Slovis, a large, human male with a much weaker will than his appearance. "A woman of such youth? Preposterous! She is not qualified to even-,"

"Would you defy the word of our Emperor, Admiral?" Tarkin questioned, and she knew his defense was merely because she was his protégé, and to question her achievement would be to question his own.

She could stand up for herself.

"Tell me, Admiral: when you engaged insurgent forces over Malastare, why did you hold your overwhelming forces back, instead of flushing them out?" she asked.

Slovis narrowed his eyes, likely not expecting her to speak. "I don't see what you mean, Vice Admiral."

"You were charged with routing insurgent Republic forces on Malastare, and yet with your overwhelming force, you were defeated, not to mention Sullust, where you allowed an entire pirate fleet past your blockade, which ironically, I ended up routing at Eriadu with well under half your force level-,"

"Do not presume to outrank me, worm," Slovis spat. "I have served this Empire fai-,"

"And you will continue to serve," Tarkin silenced him. "And you will cease this presumptuous outburst immediately, Admiral, or shall I report your displeasure to the Emperor?"

Slovis calmed himself, and Vorchenko could detect his fear quite visibly. "There will be no need, Governor Tarkin."

"I thought not. Now, Admiral Vorchenko will be placed at the helm of the Star Destroyer Valkyrie, which will arrive over Anaxes shortly. In the meantime, we have more direct matters to discuss concerning…"

Vorchenko kept her emotions hidden as Tarkin rambled on, and in her success, she found guilt, guilt that this was all at the expense of a man she'd follow into Hell and back.

She could only imagine what horrors he could be experiencing now.


Nur, 15 BBY

Fortress Inquisitorious

Xur screamed, his arms surging with pain.

"Another," a man said beside him.

He screamed again, the pain only deepening.

"One more!"

Sweat poured from his face as the pain reached its peak, and then he gasped.

"One eighty-three!"

Xur dropped from the chin-up bar and threw his arms up, letting the relief of rest seep into his body. "Told you I could beat it," he said to the triplet of average troopers who had watched him work.

"None of us doubted you," one of them said. "But…I mean how do you feel?"

Xur rolled out his shoulders, his back muscles protesting from the workout. "I'll probably need help getting my suit back on but-,"

"Hey, big shot," the Ninth Sister butted in from the door of the trooper workout space. "Get your ass down to the dojo or the Grand Inquisitor will chop your balls off and feed them to a kath hound."

Xur turned to the troopers. "That's for me. Better get out of here," he said, pulling back over his top suit to conceal his toned upper body. "See you around."

None of them gave him a farewell as he exited the room, following the hulking Ninth Sister down the hallway, adjusting his suit to comfort as they did so.

"You shouldn't be in there," she said. "It makes you look weak, conversing with them."

Xur shrugged. "Anyone willing to press that claim is welcome to."

The Ninth Sister chuckled. "You think any of us really give a damn about you killing Xur Eon?"

"I don't really give a damn if you give a damn," Xur challenged.

She laughed at that as they came to a turbolift. "You know, I like you."

"Glad to hear it."

As they entered the turbolift and began their descent, the Ninth Sister giggled to herself. "Since you obviously aren't up to speed on things around here, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into by picking a fight with the Second Sister. She's a mean bitch, trust me."

Xur crossed his arms. "She said she knew Xur Eon."

She shrugged in disinterest. "Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. Doesn't matter now. All that matters is she wanted to kill him, and you beat her to it," she said as the turbolift doors opened. She stepped out and said, "Have fun."

The zabrak scoffed. "I'm sure you're all just begging for the Grand Inquisitor to pair us together, aren't you?"

"Oh, he will," she snickered. "I guarantee it."

Of course, he would. The Dark Side thrived off conflict, and what better way to feed that than to pit two steaming rivals against one another…not that anyone here was actually worth considering to be his rival. Sure, they were imposing, and shouldn't be underestimated, but Xur had been trained by the second most gifted Jedi in the Order, not willing to restrict his training to only that of the light side of the Force. He was one of the most feared beings in the galaxy during the Clone Wars, and the more time he spent here, the stronger he became in the ways of the Dark Side.

Inching one step closer to balance, where he would become unstoppable.

The dojo was a large rectangular room, which was different from the copy and paste trapezoid architecture that was all around the fortress. In the center was a line of grate panels that radiated intense heat below, which Xur deducted was probably lava or something else lethal. All inquisitors present in the base were waiting as he and the Ninth Sister joined the group, just before the Grand Inquisitor strolled through the opposite door.

"Line up," he commanded, and Xur did his best to follow their motions, finding a spot between two inquisitors he hadn't spoken to yet. "Before we begin today, I believe I need to reiterate something to you all. As inquisitors, some missions will require you to work as a team, and while competition is healthy for your success, animosity will just get you both killed. Thus," he turned and faced Xur. "Second Brother. Second Sister. Settle your grudge in whichever way you prefer."

The Second Sister stepped forward and turned to Xur, who hadn't stepped out of line.

He cleared his throat. "I mean we can talk it out if you-,"

"Combat," she said, making her way to the middle of the dojo.

Xur growled to himself in annoyance and stepped forward. "Fine, let's get this over with."

He situated himself opposite to her and drew his hilt, preparing his stance. The Grand Inquisitor tipped his head and stepped aside. "Very well, begin."

The Second Sister zipped towards him in an instant and landed a hard punch to his face, a non-lethal hit that wasn't enough for his danger sense to detect. Staggering back with his jaw throbbing, Xur forced himself to focus and intercepted her second fist with his arm, retaliating with his own right hook that only caught air as she fazed backwards at an intense speed.

Her chuckle was emitted in a deep tone, enhanced through her mask. "You're slow."

Xur ignited his crimson blade. "Next time you won't get a fist."

"Neither will you," she sneered and drew her own saber, charging forward again only to have her attacks parried with ease. Instead of relying on defense, Xur swung with two-handed power, and each of her defensive parries took their toll, threatening to blow her over entirely. However, she deftly ducked below one swing that carried the zabrak forward, and she was able to land a cross slash to his back that cut through the first few layers of his skin.

He grunted in agony, rolling forward to avoid her next backwards assault. Every movement now came with searing pain, and it was present on his face. "Gah! Nice one," he admitted, but kept his stance ready.

She charged forward again, but this time he let the Dark Side guide his action. He pooled his pain and reached out, imagining the Second Sister frozen in place for him to retaliate. In a moment of clarity in this newfound side of the Force, a loud boom sounded, and the inquisitor was suspended in her movement, just before she reached him.

She was stuck in the stasis field, the power that not even he knew he had sparked feelings of awe from the other inquisitors, and the Second Sister could only watch as he slashed across her mask. His attack dropped the field, and she fell to the durasteel floor in a heap. Her helmet tumbled off her head, and she was left with heavy breaths. From the back of her head, with only black hair to see, she looked much younger than he anticipated, her augmented voice throwing him off.

"Very impressive," she said, and Xur froze. She had been telling the truth. He did know that voice.

The Second Sister looked up at him, and Xur didn't dare react. He didn't dare scream. He didn't dare drop down and try to hug her then and there, and he hoped to the Force that the slug thing he ingested to hide his Force signature did its job now.

Looking up at him was Trilla Suduri.

She rose to her feet, the woman he hadn't seen in nearly a decade, and the first person he had ever, truly cared about…and he couldn't say anything.

That was the worst torture he could think of. Not even what the Separatists had tried to do to him during Operation Countdown even compared to what was happening now. Trilla was alive and standing right in front of him…and she was an inquisitor. First Kaidan, and now her. None of it could be a coincidence.

"Very impressive," she said again. "Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe you are worth something."

Xur wanted to scream. She was so different. He could only imagine what the Empire had done to her…what Anakin had done to her.

He pushed it aside. He had to. It would have to be another thing the Empire would answer for.

"Truce?" he offered with an outstretched hand, hiding the searing pain still ravaging his body.

She shook his hand. "For now."

"Wonderful," the Grand Inquisitor said, stepping forward. "Now, we can begin…,"

As Xur found his place back in line, he didn't dare look her way. He couldn't.

This really was Hell.


So the plot is set…

I have a dilemma that I haven't been able to decide for myself, so I'm asking for some help. How soon do you guys want to see Cal Kestis? I originally planned to have him come in after 5 to 7 chapters into the story, but I myself am itching to see him. Would you guys want to have a chapter kind of prequel to the game, or skip right to it? Let me know, and I'll make it work.

Currently I'm releasing chapters as I complete the chapters after them, so I can make edits where necessary.

Let me know how I'm doing! As I said, feel free to make suggestions, I'm all ears.

Thanks for reading!