Author's Cut – I extensively upgraded the fight between Xur and Trilla, as well as did some dialogue clean up between him and Cal. This is a very important chapter, and I've felt it's had some glaring flaws that needed addressing.
CHAPTER 6
The Revenant
"Though wise men at their end know dark is right, because their words have forked no lightning."
Xur's eyes opened, greeted with slow-blowing smoke covering all of his surroundings. He was kneeling in a meditative posture, feeling every living thing around him. This place…its balance was perfect. Not too much light, not too much dark…everything he had ever dreamed of achieving for himself.
Peace, at last.
With a rested sigh, he rose to his feet. Here, he felt safe and in control, no one here to sneak in the shadows and take his life.
"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" a voice beside him said…Trilla's voice. She was dressed in her Jedi robes, and not a speck of corruption blemished her perfect image. Before him was the pure manifestation of beauty and perfection.
"T-Trilla," he stammered, reaching out to caress her face with his hand. "You're here."
She smiled, her eyes closing with his touch. "I've always been with you," she said, pulling him close. "You remember what you said to me? Before you left?"
Xur nodded, wrapping his arms around her. "No matter what may happen to us, I will always care for you. I knew I could-," his chest felt as if it was on fire, and a crimson glow shined between the two of them. He looked down, and in Trilla's hand was her circular hilt, the blade stabbed through his heart.
The zabrak collapsed, and Trilla looked down upon him, not with sadistic glee, but with pity.
Through waves of pain, Xur gasped, "Trilla…why?"
She said nothing, until an unstable crimson beam protruded from her breast, and her eyes went blank; soulless and dead.
"No!" Xur screamed as her body faded away, and through her stepped in a masked man, his armor majestic and menacing. The power he possessed virtually unmatched.
"Finish what I started, or her fate is sealed!"
Xur screamed in rage.
Nur, 14 BBY
Fortress Inquisitorious
"These visions you have," the First Sister enquired, facing away from where Xur knelt in a meditative state. "Describe them to me."
Xur's eyes opened, his emotions ravaged from experiencing the traumatic image once again. "They are of pain…betrayal," he began, and then looked up towards the First Sister, who turned to face him, her arms behind her back. "Death."
Her head cocked, and it frustrated him he could not see her face to read it. "Are these of yourself…or someone else?"
He paused. He had been seeing the First Sister for a few weeks every day, his success in unbalancing Trilla the reason for his commitment, but he still didn't trust her. Yet, curiosity had a way of overriding any sense of reason, and now he needed advice more than ever. His mission had made him feel so agonizingly alone, that the company this woman had given him felt like a relief at last.
"Someone," he answered.
"Close to you?" she asked.
His head drooped down, surrendering to her questions. "Yes."
She waited this time, and Xur felt her gaze penetrating his veil, staring straight into his heart without much effort, stealing all his secrets before he could notice.
"Are you afraid to lose this person?"
Xur shook his head. "I'm afraid they're already lost."
"To admit such fears is not defeat," she assured. "But when sensing the future, especially those of nightmares, we must not falter. It must be used to strengthen us, not frighten us into a state of inaction."
"But what if you've already seen it with your own eyes? What if you know it's already set in stone?" he asked, looking back up.
"Then break that stone and reshape it in your own image. The future is not a river to carry us, Brother. It can be changed…controlled," she clenched her fist before him. "You have the power to determine whether or not this someone will succumb to this dark fate. You need only realize it."
She was speaking of his will, he recalled, remembering when she told him he was the most interesting "mindless" drone in the Inquisitorious. He could only imagine Trilla, how she no longer possessed the will to resist her dark temptations, and thus now became an exemplar of pain. Subsequently, through hopelessness and despair, she had been broken down to her primal nature.
Yes, he could reshape her, if he could only restore her will to resist…to regain her faith in restraint. Only then could she beat back the darkness that consumed her.
But he was focusing too much on her, which he figured was his natural Jedi instincts. While they did him credit, they could also result in his own demise, if he himself was not prepared for what this task required.
His will needed to be a stalwart bastion…unbreakable.
"Ah, you are listening," the First Sister noticed, and he silently cursed to himself for not maintaining his mental guard during his revelation. "I've noticed a change in the Second Sister as well. She watches you intently now, studying your every move. Despite her prey being on the loose, you have wrestled part of her attention to you, an impressive feat on a dogmatic hunter like herself."
Xur tipped his head. "Your words have proven useful. I challenged her notions, and now through her growing annoyance in me, she tries to understand me."
"I sense something else to your achievement, but it is shrouded in that veil of secrecy," she noted, and he slightly tensed. "You need not fear. Remember my words. All will be revealed when the time comes."
It was hard for him not to tense up. Despite the knowledge he was gaining, he couldn't shake the idea that she certainly knew who he was and was saving her discovery for the perfect moment in which he could not escape.
He had considered that – in the event of capture, what could he possibly do. Xur figured if they were smart, they would execute him on the spot, but he knew they weren't that smart. The idiots would still try to torture him to force him into the role of an inquisitor, but that was literally impossible, not to mention dangerous. When the Separatists captured him in the waning months of the war, they had learned the hard way that torturing someone who already knows the Dark Side is not only a waste of time, but subsequently results in killing sprees. Pooling pain into power was a basic Dark Side technique; it's why they did it to each other, and it's why Trilla enjoys inflicting it on others. Xur hardly enjoyed pain, but he had learned not to be afraid of it.
Still, he had no plans on letting them torture him.
The zabrak stood. "Thank you for your time, Sister."
"And you have respect, a quality sorely lacking here," she tipped her head. "You will find that respect can earn you powerful allies, some that could in turn save your life when you are at your most vulnerable."
He tipped his head back and left the room, perhaps for the last time.
It was time to find Cal Kestis.
Zeffo, 14 BBY
Project Auger Site
Trilla ran her thumb across the dusted relic, picking up the first layer of dirt that had settled there for perhaps thousands of years. These Zeffo, apparently an ancient fallen civilization, were the muse of an old Jedi Master, Eno Cordova, and through weeks of studying the movements of her Jedi prey, she had deducted that Cal Kestis was searching for something related to his research.
These tombs he was visiting, they were ancient marvels that the Empire had only rumors on before Kestis had begun his journey, and once she had confirmation that the Jedi was seeking them out, the Emperor had reapproved Project Auger. It was a shortsighted and grossly under-resourced initiative, with electromagnetic winds rendering much of the Empire's technology useless initially, but since she had set foot on Zeffo, things were back on schedule.
Through studying Kestis she had discovered that the boy was a textbook Jedi Knight, selfless and humble, naïve and weak-willed, and he had crash-landed on Bracca after his master Jaro Tapal had been gunned down by his own troops. Since he had worked as a scrapper, hiding in plain sight among a work force, just as a few Jedi had done previously…until Cere Junda and the lateron Greez Dritus rescued him.
Her hand clenched around the old vase she held, and raw emotions flooded her mind.
We need to stick together!
No, I'm going to lure them away, and then I'm going to circle back.
Trilla's teeth grit, and the vase began to tremble and whine.
Stay with the younglings, Trilla. May the Force be with you.
Master-,
"No!" she seethed, and the vase shattered in her grip, the ceramics covering the floor beneath her; dirt and dust floating in the air. "You're going to suffer endlessly, Cere. You hear me, traitor? Everything, all of this, it's all on you."
"Sir-,"
Trilla's hand was outstretched behind her and she grabbed ahold of her intruder, pulling them within stabbing distance. "Do not…ever…enter without invitation," she threatened to the trooper dressed in scout gear.
He trembled in her grip. "Y-Yes ma'am…I mean sir! I-It won't happen again, I promise!"
"What is it?"
"W-We have a visitor!" he said, still suspended. "They asked for you!"
Trilla huffed in annoyance, dropping the trooper from the air and pulling her helmet from the desk she was sitting at. "You can rectify your mistake by leading the way," she offered, sliding it over her head and letting it lock into place. "Then you can keep your head."
He scrambled to his feet. "Yes sir! Follow me, sir!"
Why soldiers insisted on calling her sir was beyond her. Trilla had dealt with misogyny on an entirely new level as an inquisitor. Since the Empire's rise, it seemed that men in power were beginning to be more and more vocal in their supposed superiority over the opposite sex. Now it was considered to be insulting to refer to a superior officer as "ma'am" regardless of their sex, and Trilla had suffered many occasions of superiors either sexually harassing her, or simply using demeaning insults. If it weren't for her intimidating appearance, as well as the power she wielded, she could envision abuse and indignities she would never permit.
Trilla always kept silent admiration of now Admiral Reyna Vorchenko, a fellow woman seemingly immune to the roadblocks to her progress.
Exiting her temporary workspace for the time being, the trooper led her past scientists and stormtroopers walking the halls of the project base, many of them clearing her path. Eventually they came to the entrance, where some of her men were lounging together.
"Lots of people name their blasters," one said.
"Lots of cunts," a tall purge trooper spat, a massive electrohammer slung over his back. "Every cock-sucker who named his blaster ended up the first fucker dead. I'm sure you'll be joining them soon."
Trilla stopped, and the scout trooper guiding her grinded to a halt. "Commander Brutis," she called, and all the troopers other than him suddenly stood straight and acknowledged her. The hulking purge trooper slowly turned his helmet her way. "At my back."
He grumbled to himself and left the troopers, making his way behind her without much haste. She was getting a bad feeling about this coming meeting with their visitor and figured having the most lethal purge trooper in the Empire at her back would be more than enough.
She turned back to the scout trooper. "Continue."
They came out into the overcast environment, moisture beginning to fog up her HUD almost immediately, and she had to press a side control to begin clearing it. Her cape annoyingly flapped in the wind, and it reminded her to once again consider removing it entirely.
Trilla felt it in the Force. When they made it to the landing pad, she wasn't surprised to see who was waiting there.
"Second Sister!" an inquisitor sang to herself, with two purge troopers at her back.
Trilla rolled her eyes behind her helmet, crossing her arms. "Third Sister. What are you-,"
"Archer," Brutis noticed the Commander behind the Third Sister, and he stepped forward next to Trilla. "The fuck you doing here?"
Commander Archer maintained his stance, but Trilla detected recognizable animosity. "Escorting the Sister."
Brutis snorted. "Just like a clone, answering like a protocol droid. Can't trust these fuckers. This son of a bitch is more likely to shoot you in the back than do his job."
The Third Sister hopped up and down. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
Trilla held out her arm, holding the Commander back. "Get at my back. Now," she commanded. Even when pushing back on him, he didn't move. She'd seen him cleave men in half with his hammer, as well as be unfazed by even the most powerful kicks and punches.
He complied, nonetheless. Knowing his place was one of his better qualities.
"Sister," Trilla turned her attention. "Explain your arrival."
"Oh, don't be so serious," she cooed. "I heard you might have Cal Kestis soon. I wanted to be the first to see when you started breaking his bones."
Trilla enjoyed sharing her pain with others, but the Third Sister's addiction to it made her seem tame. She never enjoyed working with her, but despite her happy-fun demeanor, she was incredibly lethal, mostly annoying her opponents enough to force mistakes.
"How'd a mad fucker like you live this long?" Brutis asked.
The Third Sister giggled. "I'm really good at killing people," she then turned to her escort. "Why don't you lovely boys go do boy things while us girls have a chat."
Not this again…
Archer and the other escort stood in salute and made their way to the base, Archer and Brutis sharing a tested glance as they passed each other.
"You too, Commander," Trilla said, and then looked to the scout trooper. "Get out of my sight."
He ran off, and Brutis annoyedly followed in his wake.
The Third Sister chuckled. "Did that little one displease you? I could see the urine ruining his-."
"What is it, Sister?" Trilla asked, her arms crossed. She had work to do, and chats with the Third Sister were never productive.
The inquisitor threw her arm over Trilla's shoulders, much to her dismay, and led her away from the shuttle and to the end of the landing pad, overlooking a valley carved by a running river.
"Remember the old days?" her counterpart sighed, pointing to the massive part of a capital-sized wreckage of a Republic Venator sticking from the ground in the distance. "It's almost like they were yesterday," she reached for her helmet and unlocked it, letting the air seep out before removing it from her head, revealing her dirty blonde short ponytail.
Effa Azulia closed her eyes, breathing in the air, before turning to Trilla. "Come now, join me?"
"We're not doing this-."
"Oh, come on, grumpy lady. Get some fresh air."
Trilla looked at her yellowing eyes through her mask, and eventually sighed, following suit and removing her own helmet. Effa smiled, reaching out to touch her face but elected to settle on her shoulder.
"You were always the most beautiful of us," she said, and Trilla bit back a retort, despite what her instincts told her. "Don't you ever wonder…maybe…what could've been if-,"
"Effa, don't," Trilla warned. "You need to watch what you say."
Effa scoffed. "What are they going to do? Torture us some more? They already know we enjoy it now."
Speak for yourself.
Trilla shook her head and looked away, back at the view of the valley. "What do you want, Effa?"
The blonde human kept her glance on Trilla, but eventually looked back to the valley dejectedly. Trilla had no friends, but if anyone were close to earning that title, it would be Effa, and despite both of their broken states, there was admittedly a bit of normalcy restored when they spoke.
But love was what had destroyed them, and they both knew the price if they ever let it in their hearts again.
"The Second Brother will be here soon," Effa said. "I've heard you two have been at each other's throats."
Trilla growled to herself, keeping her gaze on the river. "I don't trust him."
"You don't trust anyone," Effa corrected. "And for good reason. Girls like us, we've got to watch out for ourselves."
To Trilla, Effa was included on that watchlist, regardless of this interaction.
"You really wounded him, you know," Effa continued. "Whatever you said to him, he's…not the same," she then snickered. "I think that poor son of a bitch likes you."
"Oh, he certainly does," Trilla agreed. "He's not as subtle as he thinks he is."
Effa laughed with sadistic delight. "Why haven't you used that against him?"
"Tried. He's not as much as an imbecile as he looks, however."
And he knows about Cere.
"Well, when you do deal with him," Effa slid her helmet back over her head. "Keep him alive for me?"
Trilla smirked at that. "No promises."
Her commlink blinked, and she answered it via her forearm. "Second Sister. The Mantis has landed on Zeffo."
Trilla closed her eyes and smiled. At last.
"Make all preparations for his arrival at the Tomb of Miktrull," Trilla ordered, and cut the communication.
Effa patted her on her shoulder. "He's here Trilla. Go get your Jedi. Make him bleed."
She would, and then Cere would have failed again, just as she deserved.
Cal Kestis couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach.
The Empire's presence was stronger now than it was during his first visit to Zeffo, and even if their forces still weren't a match for him, the feeling only worsened the longer he traveled. His hands and chest would shake, feeling anticipation for something he couldn't foresee. The objects he touched; his psychometry ability revealing a much more ambitious Project Auger than the initial attempt that resulted in failure. It was almost as if…
It was almost as if his discovery had reenergized their attempts.
Once he made it to the Project Base, which had been built around the tomb's entrance, he landed on the durasteel support, jumping from the rope swing behind him.
BD-1 beeped and whistled as he walked.
"No BD. It's only getting worse," Cal answered.
Whoooooo.
"I'll manage," he assured, and took a knee. "Could you pull up the holomap for me?"
The little droid complied, bringing up the holoimage just in front of him. Cal studied it for a moment, using his hands to spin and zoom in, a nice feature that he found himself playing around with sometimes.
"Looks like this elevator shaft is the only way down," Cal surmised, pointing to the three-dimensional elevator that lead into a circular area riddled with Zeffo artifacts. He looked up and spotted the door across another chasm that would be impassible…if he were not a Jedi. "We could make that."
Boo-beep?
"See the wall there?" Cal pointed as he approached the separated platforms. "That's how."
Beep-beep.
Cal chuckled. "You won't fall buddy, I promise."
With a running start, Cal jumped from the edge at full speed, clinging to a slick durasteel wall against the side rock face. The Force fazed at his feet and hand, sticking to the surface despite the vertical angle, keeping him from plunging to the rocky surface hundreds of feet below. After a few seconds of running along the wall, he jumped, landing on the other side.
"Told you," Cal huffed, brushing his hands together.
BD made a giggling sound.
"I knew you believed in me."
Cal approached the elevator door, but as he reached for the call button, the Force spiked, and he jolted backwards. It was a spark; a relapse of intense anger, but not directed at him. Its intensity was…unlike anything he had ever felt himself.
He was a Jedi, and it felt like his duty to face it.
The elevator door opened, and he stepped inside, prompting the lift to immediately begin its descent. The feeling in his chest grew, but he fought it away, keeping his hand close to his master's lightsaber. When the elevator reached the bottom, the door opened, and he gasped.
"Cal Kestis," the Second Sister greeted, standing in the middle of the circular area. "How predictable."
"Oh yes," Trilla sneered behind her mask, looking upon the stunned Cal Kestis, her heart pounding in anticipation. "I know your name, your past, and most importantly, about Cordova."
She could feel his unease in the Force; her presence a surprise to him, as well as the revelation that she already knew what he was searching for. The Dark Side sparked within her, and Cal's fear became apparent.
He knew he wasn't ready to face her.
"Tell me: why did he hide the holocron?" Trilla asked, and there it was. His demeanor snapped into defense, and his blue blade was ignited within his hand, confirming everything she had deducted about him.
She pulled her hilt from her belt, igniting her terrifying crimson blade. "Outstanding."
Trilla approached and they met in the middle, exchanging parries as a way to test defenses. Immediately she recognized that Cal was far surer of himself than on Bracca, and his willingness to go on the offensive was more apparent.
It wouldn't be enough for her.
Dodging an errant swing, she slashed at a perfect horizontal angle, catching Cal on his shoulder for little more than a searing burn, but he grunted in pain, nonetheless.
Trilla reveled in the wound she inflicted. "You bleed like all the others, Jedi."
Instead of being intimidated, Cal immediately retaliated, his two-handed swings proving more powerful that she had expected, and she was forced to faze backwards to create space between them.
Cal held his lightsaber in front. "Thought this would be easy, didn't you?"
"Oh, it will be," Trilla sneered and lunged forward at a blinding speed, forcing Cal to roll out of the way of her impaling strike. She went back on the offensive, unleashing a flurry of slashes that forced him to respect, backpedaling and blocking each one, before pushing off of her blade and kicking her chest. Dismissing the pain entirely, Trilla blocked his overhead swing and pushed him away with a powerful force push, knocking him off his feet to tumble over the floor.
Cal rode the roll and pushed off with his hands, landing on both feet to stop Trilla's advancing strike, forcing a saber lock.
"Very well," Trilla admitted, pushing him away. "You won't block the next."
The Jedi breathed, twirling his blade. "I can do this all day."
Trilla hid her surprise. His confidence was…much higher than she expected, which was uncharacteristic of her.
She needed to turn it up.
Trilla feinted a swing, and Cal took the bait, making himself vulnerable enough for her to backflip over him and kick into his back with both legs, landing on her feet as he fell forward. She slashed at his back, and he barely blocked in time, but Trilla deactivated her blade and grabbed ahold of his wrists, flipping him onto his back as his saber rattled out of his hand. Her blade was reactivated with a spin, and her killing blow missed as he redirected her attack with a quick gesture, finding only floor.
With her blade stuck for the moment, Cal rolled back onto his feet and kicked her helmet, buying him enough time to call back his lightsaber while she staggered. The impact made her head ring, and her annoyance surged.
Enough.
When Cal slashed again, she grabbed ahold of his entire body, suspending him in the air before throwing him backwards, his body crashing through the weak durasteel gate that lead to the tomb.
Cal grunted from the landing as pieces of metal rattled around him, slowly rising, and Trilla fazed at an incredible speed, ready to strike the killing blow.
Danger sense electrified her entire body, and she stopped, just as a ray shield was activated between her and Cal. To the right of Cal, she spotted his little droid companion at the power grid.
Annoyed, she tested the shield regardless, seeing her blade have no effect on the energy field, and eventually she conceded with the extinguishing of her blade. Cal scrambled to his feet, lightsaber in hand, and adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
Bested by a droid.
Trilla couldn't let him know that, nor could she reveal how much more difficult he was than she anticipated…but it didn't hurt to throw in a compliment to bring their guard down. Jedi fell for it every time.
"You're learning," she said through breaths of refreshment. "Not quite as gifted as Cere's last apprentice…but, not bad."
Cal grumbled to himself in disgust. "You've been keeping count?"
Trilla smiled to herself, hidden by the helmet. He doesn't know. "I'm surprised she didn't tell you. Cere was never good at keeping secrets."
The Jedi stepped forward, a mocking smile of disbelief on his face. "And you know her so well huh?"
Trilla laughed at his ignorance. "She was weak. Cracked in an Imperial torture chair; surrendered the location of her naïve Padawan," she paced back and forth with each revelation, drawing Cal's eyes to follow each step she took. "They would never have found me," she then reached for her helmet, removing it from her head for her prey to see. Cal's eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward. "If it wasn't for her. She betrayed me."
Trilla could see Cal piece it together in his eyes. "You're Trilla," he recognized.
She shrugged, reveling in his surprise. "In the flesh."
He looked on for a moment, and she could feel the turmoil within him. She could sense that Cere had lied to him, and it would once again serve as her fatal mistake.
Cal turned away in denial, making his way down the path. "I won't let you manipulate me."
"So sure, are you?" Trilla called, and he stopped. "When faced with the choice to protect herself or her Padawan, she chose self-interest," she said, and Trilla felt her own anger spike at the remembrance of her master's betrayal. "She'll sell you out too."
Cal paused for a moment, but shrugged, turning back to face her. "Well, I can handle myself."
Trilla snorted in amusement. "Can you afford to take that chance? Your new master harbors great darkness. The look on her face when she saw what they had done to me, as I am now," she recalled, drawing the Jedi's interest. "She turned, exposing her true nature. She used the Dark Side."
Cal shook his head in dismissal. "She cut herself off from the Force."
"Oh? How long until she cracks and betrays you too?" Trilla questioned, pacing as Cal's annoyance built within him. "Is that who you want beside you when you find the holocron?" Trilla paused, looking back to Cal. "What would Jaro Tapal say?"
Cal's anger exploded. "You have no right to mention his name!"
"I wonder," Trilla pressed. "What would he think if he could see his…Padawan now?" she continued, and Cal grit his teeth as he stepped towards the field. "Skulking in the shadows with a betrayer…granting her access to a legion of impressionable students-,"
"No!" Cal growled. "I won't let anyone touch them!"
Trilla could only look on in pity. "I thought the same thing once," she said before turning around, and pausing in place.
The Second Brother stood at the center of the area.
"Trilla," he regarded through his mask, and then looked behind her. "Kid. Sorry I had to…toss you into the abyss."
Trilla shuddered, looking back to Cal, who was staring in confusion. "W-what?" he stammered.
The Second Brother crossed his arms. "You see, I knew Jaro Tapal," he paced, although keeping his distance from Trilla. "And I know he'd be proud his Padawan questioned the words of a manipulative witch and stood by his allies despite the truth being revealed to him."
Trilla's hand inched towards her hilt, still analyzing the confusing situation.
"I also knew Cere Junda," he stepped towards her. "She and my master were friends for decades. Despite our differences, she was a great Jedi, not what you paint her to be," he stopped, and cocked his head. "I also knew Trilla Suduri, before she became…whatever this is."
Trilla's fist clenched and her jaw shuddered.
"Now you tell me something, Second Sister: did you really think that pathetic son of a bitch killed me on Iridonia?"
She shook her head in denial. "Xur Eon is dead."
The Second Brother tapped something on his forearm, and she heard him grunt. "How about now?"
Trilla's eyes widened. She knew that voice.
He reached for his helmet and revealed his face, and she was far too angry to be ashamed she hadn't realized it sooner.
"Oh my…" Cal gasped.
Xur Eon looked his way. "Yeah…I'm alive," he then turned back to Trilla, his eyes probing her for something she couldn't identify. All she saw was red. "How the hell did you end up like this?"
Trilla seethed. "You already know…I've already told you."
Xur's emotions cracked, and it was the first time she had seen the Second Brother's expression truly break. "It's not too late. I'm going to make the people who did this to you pay."
"You did this to me!" she pointed to her face. "You corrupted me with your lies, your deception and lust for power!" she then turned to Cal and pointed to Xur. "You think he's any different?! All the dark crimes he's committed don't even compare to what I've done."
"He's not a monster like you!" Cal spat.
"Oh?" she challenged. "Tell him, Eon. Tell him what you've done! Murdering inquisitors without mercy, slaughtering entire legions of stormtroopers in the name of vengeance!" she then laughed, a madness falling over her. "Tell him how far you have fallen."
Xur circled her. "Yes, I've done things I'm not proud of, but I own them. You cover them with excuses, blaming your own ineptitude on the failure of others, lying to your superiors even if you know you've failed them.
"The Trilla I knew stood up for herself and didn't back down even when the world was falling around her. She knew that even when something was dark, it could see the light," Xur recalled, and she felt his sadness compound with anger. "She was perfect. All her complexity, her gleaming soul…her everlasting will," he then stopped, looking on with disgust. "You're just a shadow, a mindless drone wearing Trilla's face; an insult to what she used to be."
"I'm stronger now than I ever was before," Trilla growled, igniting her blade, feeling nothing but blinding hatred for the man before her.
Xur resigned then and there, and he drew the Second Brother's hilt from his back. "Go, Cal," he urged.
"What about you?" he asked.
"I said go."
Cal nodded and descended down the path with his droid companion, leaving just the two of them in a standoff.
Trilla screamed. "You'll never escape here alive!"
Xur seemed unfazed. "Trilla couldn't even beat me in the training room. What hope do you have?" he ignited the blade, flipping the tracks forward for only one. "This whole time I've been holding back, and now, the fucking gloves are off…and you of all people know what happens next."
She paused, holding her blade forward.
"Stay out of my way, Trilla," he warned. "I won't say it again."
There was no weighing of options, and to her, there was no choice. The only thing that mattered now was hatred, as it was the only emotion she felt. Her wrists shook as she held her blade with both hands, white knuckled underneath her gloves while her skin begged for mercy in her grip.
Trilla charged.
As she swung, Xur swung with both hands, their blades clashing, and her hilt flying from her grip in one blow. Stunned, she could only watch as Xur reached out, suspending her entire body into the air and proceeding to throw her backwards until she slammed into the rocky wall.
Dazed, Trilla looked up to see Xur approach, calling her hilt to his free hand and standing over her before she could rise to her feet. She hadn't expected his raw swinging power, and she had paid for her over-grip dearly. Her own blade was at her neck now, the man she once knew about to take her life.
"Enough, Trilla!" Xur shouted. "You can't beat me!"
It was a lucky occurrence of chance, and they both knew that, and she could tell he was only trying to intimidate her into giving up before she had even challenged him.
That was her way.
She looked up to him. "I'm sorry…I-I know," she drooped her head. "Please…just…," she begged.
His guard fell for a moment, and she zipped behind him, nearly disappearing from existence as she pulled him into a headlock, suffocating him.
"Your compassion was always your weakness," she chuckled in his ear as he gasped. In a quick move, he dropped her blade and reached behind, his abnormal wingspan allowing him to wrap his arm around her head and pull himself forward, flipping Trilla over him and off his neck. He stabbed downwards, but he only hit rock as she somersaulted and called her hilt back into her hand, just in time to fall into a saber lock. She laughed, "Still as gullible as ever!"
Xur smirked. "I'm not the one who fell for it!" he then pushed off her blade, his strength making her stumble backwards. "All this time I was right beside you, and you had no idea. None of you did!"
They exchanged blows, hers of speed and agility, his of strength and power, each of her blocks making her stagger while he stayed on his toes with each of her movements. One thing became frighteningly apparent as they continued, and Trilla knew this was unlike any fight she had ever engaged in as the Second Sister. Most Jedi were easily outmaneuvered by her brilliance and cunning savagery, quite literally willing to wipe out an entire population of civilians just to draw them out through their compassionate weakness. Xur had compassion…but he didn't have that blind righteousness that had been the death of most of her prey. She could execute hundreds of people, and he'd just move on, knowing he'd be better off waiting for another chance to strike. She'd seen it when he was an imposter, his patient cunning that he must've gained after Order 66, something no Jedi had been smart enough to pick up on.
There was a reason he'd killed so many inquisitors so quickly and so easily…and that was because he just didn't care. Survival was all that mattered…survival to fight another day, and he could not have chosen a better day to reveal himself. Here and now, he had cut her off from escape and support, leaving her vulnerable; to be taken out without a second thought. It was such a lethal and vast oversight on her part, but by now, she was far too enraged at seeing his face again to care. This was the man who had abandoned her when she needed him most, perhaps the starkest betrayal of all.
She wanted nothing more than to end his life, but she wasn't stupid, and she knew when she was vastly outmaneuvered and flat out outmatched. His power was literal insanity, the speed behind his swings unnatural for the strength they projected, rivaling the brute force of the Ninth Sister. Her wrists began to scream in pain with each deflection she was forced to make, and her attack windows only narrowed the longer it progressed. Xur's defense wasn't spectacular, but his offensive ferocity made it virtually irrelevant. On multiple occasions, she fazed away, only to see him leap immediately back to her, leaving no space for her to recuperate, and the toll began to show on her face.
Xur's grim look filtered exploding anger as their sabers locked, Trilla's arms fumbling under his strength even as the Dark Side moved to replenish her ailments. He pressed the attack, growling with each swing, his own hatred surpassing her own in the Force, which resulted in a wide-eyed expression of shock across her face. He hammered down, her knees buckling under the pressure as she barely defended herself, until the last one finally knocked her hilt from her hand as her knees hit the dirt. She spread her digits, stunned as they stung with immense pain, and then looked up to him.
He looked nothing like what she remembered. There was nothing but anger in his eyes, as opposed to the bold confidence he had always projected…what she had failed to see in the Second Brother. Yet, despite her current defeat, she couldn't help but realize that despite his victory, he had looked as if he had lost, and she knew why. His eyes projected despair…his hope of ever getting her back draining away forever.
Trilla giggled to herself, adopting a maniacal nature as it progressed. "You've failed…haven't you? You came all this way for me, just to realize that the Trilla you knew is gone forever."
Xur looked down, his eyes shutting as he seized ever so slightly, and she felt his darkness dissipate in a sudden manner, most likely as his natural ability dismantled and cured the growing corruption within him.
"No…she's not gone," he denied. "Just…lost. I've seen it."
"You're delusional," she sneered. "You've fallen just as I have. You think you're any better than me?"
The zabrak held his hilt at the ready, but after a deep breath, he deactivated it with a snap, returning it to his back. "No…I don't."
She certainly didn't expect that answer, and she quickly found that she had cornered herself with that line of questioning…the seed of doubt she had hoped to plant not taking root in the slightest. Now she was just left on her knees virtually begging for mercy against a man who had her outplayed, outgunned and outwitted. It was horrifically demeaning to her reputation as an inquisitor, and if she couldn't beat Xur Eon, then what did it matter? She'd trained four years for this moment, and this was how it ended.
"If that's true…then finish it," she goaded.
Xur shook his head. "I'm not going to kill you, Trilla."
"Oh?" she questioned. "You've killed so many others. What makes me any different?"
"Don't play naïve with me," he spat. "You already know why I won't kill you."
She did…but she needed to hear him say it…and knowing he wouldn't kill her already ignited her mind back into motion, probing the area for her lightsaber, as well as ways to possibly retaliate.
"You were right about one thing, Trilla," he admitted. "I did look at you with purpose and ambition…it's just a shame you never acted on it strong enough."
"Oh, there's still time…" she trailed off, twisting her fingers. Her hilt rattled against the stone floor as she sprang to her feet, but it stopped midway to her grip, held back by Xur's own outstretched hand.
"You were always slick," he granted her. "Just not slick enough for me."
She sneered, her free hand gesturing subtly to lift his own dropped helmet behind his view. "That remains to be seen."
"Made you look."
Something smacked into the side of her head, certainly duraplast, but she never relinquished her hold on her blade…only to feel that collide into her stomach as Xur simply pushed it her way enough to rattle it off course. A loud boom followed in the Force, and she felt that same stasis field envelop and trap her in place, unable to move.
Xur pulled his helmet into his hand, and then tossed it at her frozen feet. "Ninth Sister said you liked souvenirs from your prey…there's one for you," he said, turning to the ray shield, and with an outstretched hand, cast a burst of force lightning at the emitter, short circuiting it until the field fell. Trilla watched him grab ahold of his wrist after the attack, his fingers seared.
His power came at a cost, it seemed.
Once he stepped past the barrier, he fired at the overcharge conduit, reactivating the field, but this time he almost screamed in pain. The stasis field dropped around her, and she was free, perhaps from his lack of focus.
"Run along, Xur Eon," she taunted. "We'll meet again."
Xur massaged his wrist and turned. "For your sake…I'd fucking hope not."
With that, he left her, chasing after Cal Kestis into the Tomb of Miktrull. Once he was out of sight, she reached for her commlink.
"Commander Brutis, inform the Third Sister: Xur Eon is alive," she said, hardly believing her own words.
"Second Sister. Repeat. Did you say Xur Eon?" he replied.
"Yes."
She heard a huff. "Fucking hell."
Trilla ignored his informal and unenthusiastic reaction, mostly in part because she was more focused on the helmet she held in her grip. Its design wasn't anything special and yet it sat there…taunting her through its eyes as she had failed to see through Eon's disguise. His words echoed in her mind as she tried to regain her focus, but her failure hung over her head like a cancer, and before long, she exploded.
Igniting her blade and severing the helmet in two, she turned on her heel with a deep growl, marching back to the turbolift.
Cal grappled onto the sturdy set of vines hanging from a shattered pillar, grunting as he used each of them as footholds for his climb. Silently, he wished the Zeffo hadn't constructed their tombs in such a cryptic way, but then again, he figured the secrecy was for the best. It had kept the Empire out after all.
Until now.
As he pulled himself on top of the broken pillar, he leapt into an exposed staircase, careful not to lose his footing and fall into the neigh-bottomless pit below him.
"I still can't believe it, BD. He's alive," Cal huffed, ascending the staircase. "You know what that means, right?"
Doe-preet?
Cal reached the top and entered a large, domed room, water dripping from the cracked roof that had to have eroded for the past millennia. Its majesty was comparable to that of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and for the first time since the Purge, the memory of that didn't bring him such sadness.
"It means we're not alone in this fight."
He stepped forward on the wet surface, but he stopped. He had become so caught up in the revelation, that he had forgotten to inform Cere and Greez of his progress. Tapping his earpiece, he opened the channel.
"I'm in the Tomb, and you're not going to believe what I have to say, but…Cere…why didn't you tell me about Trilla?"
"Because she's a liar," the mischievous voice of the Second Sister came through on the other end…sounding somewhat bitter.
"You…," Cal gasped. "Still alive huh?"
"Very much so, Padawan," she sneered. "Xur Eon is not the warrior you paint him to be."
The red-haired Jedi trekked through the room, observing it while the channel stayed open. "I doubt that," he scoffed. "Cere told me you two have a past. He probably just let you live."
"I'm sure she did…but I assume she told you I died…didn't she?"
He said nothing, truthfully trying to focus on his task at hand.
Trilla laughed in his earpiece. "You know, she never trusted Eon, not even when he was a Jedi. How do you think she will react now?"
Cal grumbled in annoyance. "He saved my life once. I'll convince her."
She giggled. "Poor child. A fool's errand."
He heard the channel click off for now, and he returned his focus to the large stone brick that was stuck into the ground. Not far from it was a pathway too high for him to jump to, but with the stone brick…
"What do you think BD? Think I can push it?"
Boo-doop pree!
"Ha! Thanks buddy," Cal smiled and prepared himself in a gathering stance, summoning as much Force energy as he could.
"Hold it, Jedi!" he heard and spun around, his blue blade ignited. In dropped multiple stormtroopers from ascension cables, pointing their blasters, while scout troopers dropped in with stun sticks electrified. "This is as far as you go!"
The Jedi cracked his neck and twirled his blade. "Give me your best shot."
One scout trooper stepped forward and swung his stick, only to watch Cal lean out of the way and trip him up, before plunging his blade into the trooper's back.
"Oh, no, no, no, no," one of the blaster troopers whined. "This is it isn't it?"
Cal suppressed a smile. He didn't enjoy killing but scaring stormtroopers never lost its comedy. He was granted double vision; an image of the future overlaid with the image of the present; his saber ward raised and deflected each fired bolt back to their origin, killing each of his attackers. Only two scout troopers remained, backing off.
"Dammit," one of them complained. "We're so fucked."
Cal stepped towards them, but stopped as more troopers arrived, this time with a Purge Trooper, one of the largest he had ever seen.
"If any man dies with piss staining his armor, I'll rape his fucking corpse!" he shouted, revealing his heavy electrohammer while the new troopers beside him opened fire. Cal backed off but deflected beams defensively, only a few hitting their targets while the scout troopers advanced, reinvigorated by the purge trooper's raunchy motivation. Stun sticks swung his way, and he parried each one before flipping over the advancing scout troopers and landing with his hand pressed to the floor, unleashing a powerful force repulse that cleared the area.
The Purge Trooper brushed it off. With a heavy heave, he swung his hammer with centrifugal momentum, nearly cleaving Cal's legs at his knees before he flipped over the swing. Riding the speed, the trooper pulled the hammer overhead and brought it down, Cal sidestepping in time to avoid the heavy attack, taking the chance to kick the trooper in the chest.
Nothing happened, in fact, Cal swore he had staggered more from his own kick.
The trooper back handed him, and the back of his fist caught Cal's jaw and plowed him to the ground, water splashing onto his face as he landed. His face pulsed with pain, finding it hard to even close his mouth after such an intense blow.
Danger sense jolted his neck hairs, and he rolled, but the killing swing was stopped by another blade. Cal looked up to see Xur Eon heave, using his blade to push the hammer out of the way and then hit the trooper with a massive force push that reverberated through the room, planting the massive man into the wall nearby.
When he made no move to get up, Xur reached down. "You alright, kid?"
Cal took his hand, nodding. "Yeah…face is probably bruised, but I'll manage."
The zabrak huffed in detectable annoyance, placing his hilt back on his back. "Nothing that'll kill you," he shrugged, then looked to the trooper. "Sorry Brutis, nothing personal."
Commander Brutis grumbled, trapped in the old stone. "Eat shit, horned fucker."
Xur snorted to himself and turned back to the Jedi, alright beginning to prob the area. "I see you've been busy."
"Always," Cal shrugged. "You?"
"Same shit, different uniform," he shrugged back. "What're you doing here? I mean, I'm sure Trilla knows, but she and I haven't exactly been on speaking terms lately."
The red-haired Jedi was hesitant, still holding his hilt close. "Look, I trust you, but I'd have to ask you to spill first. You are still in an inquisitor uniform."
Xur tipped his head in concession. "Fair enough. Maybe later. I'm sure there are spies everywhere. For now, I guess I can try to clear the way for you while you do…whatever it is you're doing."
Cal's earpiece reactivated. "You're running out of time," Trilla half-sang.
He groaned. "For what?"
Xur looked baffled. "Huh? You talking to someone?"
The Jedi pointed to his ear and mouthed Second Sister to Xur as Trilla answered. "My scouts located an artifact of interest at the rear of this tomb. Even now I'm studying it, learning its secrets."
The zabrak placed his own device in his ear and rolled his eyes "Patch me in kid. I'll take care of that for you."
Cal relayed the signal.
"It seems Cordova was rather taken with these Zeffo…perhaps enough to hide the holocron amongst their bones."
"Hey Trilla, Cal's busy. You can suck his magic cock later." he grumbled, and Cal swore he heard Brutis chuckle to himself…but he himself grimaced in slight confusion.
"So Eon has joined you after all," Trilla hid her annoyance as she tried to ignore him, without much real success. "As I predicted."
"Really? Wow," Xur mocked with awe. "You've got quite the divine intelligence to figure that out. Did the Force whisper that into your ear?"
All they received was an annoyed grumble before the channel clicked off again. Cal took his chance to finally cross his arms. "Magic…what?"
Xur scoffed. "You don't know what that is?"
Cal's eyes paced away, and Xur's eyes widened. "Dick."
"Oh…" Cal realized. "Cock…I like that."
The zabrak turned his head slightly, beginning to pace away. "Bet you do. Stay alive, I'll catch up with you later."
"Wha-…where are you going?" he called out, never minding his comment.
"To thin the herd."
Things were uneventful for the Third Sister. Effa had spent her time sitting cross-legged at the corner of their overlook at the top level of the Tomb, counting how many droplets of water fell from the ceiling and into the endless pit that spanned the entire carved earth. Animals croaked and called, their sounds reverberating against the stone walls, echoing everywhere.
"Ugh," she pouted, leaning back on her hands and crossing her legs in front of her. "I shouldn't have let Second Sister have all the fun."
An electrostaff wielding purge trooper stood guard behind her and said nothing, keeping his eyes facing forward.
"Lieutenant!" she called, and he straightened. "Remind me to throw the corporal off this ledge next time he comes by."
"Uhhh," he stammered. "Y-yes sir."
She blew air through her mouth in a torrent. "I'm a lady, you dick."
"Sorry," he apologized. "Yes ma'am. I offer to even do it myself, if you wish."
"You would? How sweet!" she said with glee. "I guess I won't throw you off after all. Even if your shrill of terror would-,"
Running footsteps stopped her mid-sentence. "Sister! We're under attack!" the fabled corporal reappeared.
Effa turned, covering the area of her mouth with both her hands. "We are? What a tragedy!" she gasped, and then grabbed ahold of him with the force, and hurled him over the edge, his scream echoing through the chamber. She laughed, pointing his way. "Ha, ha, ha! Look at him fly!"
There was a moment of silence as she listened, his voice fading away.
"Ma'am."
"Quiet! He's not finished yet!"
A few moments passed, and the screaming was gone.
"Ma'am, I think we actually are under attack."
Effa let her head hang backwards in dismay. "Bleh. You bore me," she pouted as she rose to her feet, walking back into the small Zeffo chamber where they had established an encampment, the trooper following in tow.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, ma'am."
Once inside, Effa walked straight to the orange-shouldered stormtrooper. "Alright pussies, what's going on?"
He stood at attention. "Sorry to disturb you sir-,"
"Ahem!"
"Sorry…ma'am," he corrected. "But we've had a disturbance on the lower floors. The corporal I sent you says he…," he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.
Effa cocked her head and had her wrists at her hips. "You mean the one who just flew over the edge?"
"Yes…well…he claims to have seen Xur Eon helping the Jedi."
The purge trooper behind her snorted, nearly into laughter. "Always knew that shiny had no future. Xur Eon? What a fucking idiot."
Effa giggled. "Right? That sorry little bastard is dead!"
The archway that served as their exit from their encampment collapsed in a loud boom, rocks and debris covering their only exit. Every trooper stationed pointed their blasters at it, attention unwavering. The purge trooper behind her drew his staff, the ends electrifying in a purple glow.
"Charge and lock!" the stormtrooper commanded, holding his fist.
Effa waited, her hilt in her hand as she watched the only way in. The only noises she heard were that of settling debris and controlled breathing, waiting for the next attack. Tentatively, the purge trooper inched forward, getting ground just in front of Effa. She counted ten stormtroopers in all, plus her, the commander, and the electrostaff. More than enough for anyone.
Another explosion ripped, and the ground below the first line of troopers fell from under them, sucking four into its gaping hole. Through the hole appeared a dark figure jumping in with a powerful force wave that knocked even her off her feet. The impact with the ground had her slow to get up, but she heard everything she needed to hear.
"Holy shit, that's him!"
Xur Eon went on the attack, crushing one stormtrooper's trachea with a closing of his fist, while engaging the spinning mechanism on his hilt to deflect the incoming blasterfire. Keeping his grip on the dead trooper, he swung the body, plowing over another in a loud crack of bones. The front-line troopers dropped their blasters and drew stun batons, prepared to engage in melee.
Effa ignited her blade as Xur stopped the spinning and slid along the floor into the middle of his adversaries, flipping to his feet and running his blade through another trooper. Two more advanced, swinging stun sticks only to see him backflip behind them, cleaving the arm from one, and then using that severed arm to smack down its owner, already screaming in pain. The other, he bisected at the waist, the trooper's pained groan the last sound he ever made.
"Kill him!" Effa commanded. "Make him suffer!"
The final four troopers congregated around him, and Xur deactivated his blade, blocking attacks from knives with his gauntlets while also ducking under stun sticks. He jumped and outstretched his hands, knocking aside two advancing troopers with force pushes, and then proceeded to grab the wrist of the next knife attack, flipping the trooper over his body and twisting his arm enough to hear fractures in bone, as well as a cry in agony. He sidestepped around the final attack, tripping him up and then plunging his blade into his chest as he fell.
Only she and the purge trooper remained.
He swung his electrostaff at Xur, only to see it parried by the crimson blade, while Effa swung as well, only to fall into a lock when Xur activated the second emitter. With immense strength, he pushed off, making them both stagger, and then sliced the trooper's staff in two at the middle, taking two of his fingers with it. Shaking off the pain, the trooper surprised him with his quick attack, tackling him to the ground and plunging a knife into Xur's shoulder.
Effa tried to revel in the man's short grunt of pain, but the zabrak was quick, lifting the trooper from him with a force grip, and then crushing him with a sickening, bloody death. The trooper's limp body hit the ground, and Xur rolled back to his feet, leaving only Effa to stand in his way as he dug the blade out of his shoulder
He spit blood from his mouth and let out heavy breathing. "I'm back you fuckers," he huffed, hurling his saber into the head of a crawling trooper still alive as he dropped the bloody knife.
Effa giggled with intense pleasure. "I loved every moment of that, Brother."
His saber returned to his hand. "I'm sure you did," twirling the blade, his eyes beginning to tint yellow. "Now you join them."
"Not so fast!" she raised her finger, and then reached up, removing her helmet from her face.
Xur paused, and then scoffed, looking away. "You've got to be shitting me."
"Surprised?"
The zabrak shook his head and swung, Effa able to parry until they fell into a saber lock. "Try disappointed," he said, before they broke off, and he tapped into his earpiece. "You hear me, Trilla? I'm not surprised the two of you were too weak to resist the Dark Side and submit to the very regime that betrayed us all!"
Effa laughed almost hysterically. "Look at you! Filled with such hatred. You may be Xur Eon, but you'll always be one of us."
"You cannot stop what is coming," Trilla replied. "No matter how powerful you are, you cannot stop the Empire!"
"Stop it?" Xur then laughed, and his eyes turned full yellow. "The Empire will become dust! I will make it so!"
He reached out, and Effa catapulted backwards, the force of his attack shattering the wall behind her in a loud crash, and she fell, her senses blurred until she roughly landed on the uneven floor below. There was a loud crack, and Effa's left leg erupted in a fit of excruciating pain, her scream echoing through the chamber. Pain was an old friend of hers, but this sudden amount was more than she bargained for.
Fighting though it regardless, she propped herself up, fighting tunnel vision before she blacked out, and to see Xur land with a shockwave in the Force, the Dark Side siphoning through him like a conduit.
Effa tried to claw away, but her leg was useless, and only weighed her down, not to mention the vomit that poured from her mouth after trying to move at all.
"Inquisition…," she said through painful squeals, spitting the phlegm from her mouth. "…is inevitable…for…all…of us."
Xur stood over her by now, his eyes still burning. "That's what Kaidan said," he revealed, his crimson blade at her neck. "Just before I killed him."
Her eyes went wide with fear.
A battle roar reverberated through the chamber, and Effa saw Trilla appear from above and swing down at Xur, forcing him to block the attack. After a few parries, Trilla forced herself in between him and Effa, and pushed Xur away while he was mid-swing.
The zabrak growled. "Will you fuck off?!"
"Now!" she commanded, and her entire purge trooper squad landed, and it was just then that Effa noticed Commander Brutis slowly crawl from the dent in the wall he had been forced into. With the zabrak surrounded, Trilla stood straight, stepping forward. "Surrender! You can't beat us all!"
Xur looked around, seeing the array of 12 different purge troopers…and deactivated his blade, prompting Trilla to chuckle with delight. "As I said, you cannot defeat the Empire. Our numbers are far too great. You have no one."
"Actually…"
Trilla turned to the clicking of a DC-17 pistol, and she spotted Commander Archer making his way towards Xur, his blasters fixed on her. "I wouldn't say that. Boys!"
Five other purge troopers turned their blasters either to her or a fellow trooper, forming a defense around Xur.
Trilla's rage spiked. "Traitors!"
Archer shook his head, removing his helmet to reveal the face of Jango Fett, a black goatee and ruffled hair his features. "On the contrary…I never betrayed my general. Commander Archer was just an alias. My real name is Raven…Captain of the 502nd Legion…but…you already know that about me, Commander Suduri."
Xur's eyes were wide with recognition at the sight of his old friend, and Trilla's rage was only enhanced as her eyes shut. Raven continued, "I held out hope for a long time that you might still be there…but I guess I was wrong," he said, sliding his helmet back over his head. "If anyone is the traitor, it's you, Second Sister."
Trilla screamed in a fit of rage and reached out but was only swiped aside by a force attack from Xur in defense. The still loyal troopers attacked the ones that had turned, but those still held their ground in defense of their old Jedi General.
"Let's get Kestis and get out of here!" Xur suggested, and engaged the purge troopers, killing each of the loyalists in their way with ease, escaping the chamber, leaving just a few stragglers, Trilla, Effa and Brutis.
Trilla stumbled back to her feet, making her way to Effa's side, who was whimpering in pain, taking a knee. She turned to the stragglers. "Find them, and kill them, now! Bring me Kestis alive."
They saluted and spread off…all for Brutis, who limped to the middle of the chamber, his hammer back over his shoulder.
"That means you as well, Commander!"
Brutis removed his helmet, revealing the face of a human male, the side of his cheek scarred in a hexagon pattern, likely from a ray shield accident. He only gave her one glace, before spitting to the ground.
"Xur Eon made the two of you look like fucking twi'lek pole dancers. I'm finished."
"You swore to the Empire!" Trilla raged, rising to her feet. "You are a member of the Inquisitorious, our best! I command you to bring me the Jedi!"
"Fuck the Inquisitorious," he spat, unfazed by her intimidation. "Fuck the Empire," he then looked directly in her eyes. "Fuck you."
He stormed off, and as much as Trilla wanted to kill him, she knew he'd take too much of her time. Now, she had a Jedi to catch…he would pay in time.
She knelt back beside Effa, whose leg was still lying stationary on the ground. Trilla's embrace of the Dark Side masked it, but she could hear the faint cry of her wound in the Force, her hand twitching to reach out, but its call was gagged, unnoticeable.
Unusable.
"You…let him go?" Effa gasped, sweat pouring down her face.
"He's expendable. You're not."
The blonde human smiled. "Awww. That's so sweet of you."
Trilla snorted in disgust. "Shut your hole, or I'll take it back."
Effa whimpered through another wave of pain. "Sorry."
Xur hid his own pain as he ran, tailed by Raven and the last members of the 502nd, trying his best to bottle down his rising emotions. When the Third Sister removed her helmet, and he saw Effa's face, it only reminded him of Kaidan, and in turn every Jedi he had ever watch die during the war. Everyone he had ever cared about, his family, was gone, and the Empire had found them…using that against him.
Something in him had finally given, and he lost complete control of himself. He was going to kill her, even with the terrified look on her face, pleading for mercy from an old friend, there were no second thoughts.
That terrified him.
How long until that was someone else he loved…how long until that was Trilla?
The Dark Side granted him great power, but he wasn't himself in that state. Trilla, Effa, Kaidan…they had all lost themselves, perhaps forever, and he would never allow that to happen again.
Maybe he himself needed a few lessons on restraint.
"General," Raven called, and he stopped his run. "Over here. It's Kestis."
The zabrak walked back to where Raven stood, and through the arched doorway was a massive room, perhaps the largest in the Tomb, a large, cracked, glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Its majesty was short-lived, however, as Cal Kestis craftily hurled a torch at a section of the supporting chain held together by old vines, burning away the final connection. The chandelier fell, glass cascading as it shattered below.
"Interesting," Xur noted, and turned to Raven. "Let's go."
"We'll cover your escape, General," the Captain said, drawing his second blaster. "Go on."
The zabrak snorted. "No. I'm not just going to leave you here," he denied, looking back to the others. "All of you. Not after what you've risked."
Raven shrugged. "It's all part of the plan, my friend," he insisted. "We'll find our way back. I promise."
Xur hesitated, but he felt the need to trust his old friend, and he eventually nodded with his blessing.
"Rage against the dying light," one trooper said, and the others echoed.
"Rage against the dying light," Raven followed.
Xur smiled. "Rage against the dying light. Good luck, and…may the Force be with you."
Raven tipped his head, and then signaled form up with a gesture. "Let's move! Time to show the Empire what real soldiers are made of!"
Xur watched them go, and he swore to know each and every one of their names in time. Over those six months, he was never alone, and he was glad he stood up for them all that time.
He leapt from the archway and landed with a splash below, trying to catch up to Cal as the Jedi made his way to the fallen glass.
"Hold it, Second Brother," he heard, and Xur stopped, a sigh escaping his mouth. When he turned his head, he saw Blaze, holding his rifle to him. "I liked you, kid," he admitted. "But I would've never thought you'd be a traitor."
Xur gulped. "I'm sorry Blaze. It's nothing personal."
"I should kill you right now," he admitted, but lowered his blaster with a huff. "But you saved my life once. Consider us even…but if I ever see you again-,"
"I'm sure, Blaze," Xur answered before he finished. "Thank you. Maybe one day you'll see it."
He took off, and Blaze made no move to pursue.
The entire room shook as Xur approached the edge of the platform, leading to the falling place of the chandelier, where Cal had reactivated a device that was now raising a structure from under the inch-high water.
When Xur landed below, Cal reached for his saber, but paused once he saw who it was. "Thanks for clearing the way," the Jedi thanked as Xur approached. "Made finding this easier."
"What is it?" he asked, watching it rise.
"It's called the Spire of Miktrull. I think this is the way out, at least something like this was for the last tomb I visited," Cal explained as the structure halted in place. Xur gave him a confused look, and the young man winced. "It's…a long story."
"We'll have to trade," Xur suggested as they stepped inside the structure. Cal's companion, BD-1, hopped from his back and scanned the area, while Cal paced to a circular button that he pressed with one foot. The entire structure then began to ascend, and Xur struggled to keep his balance initially.
BD-1 stopped on a mural on the slick, stone wall as the structure closed around them, and then began to play a holo-recording.
"Is that-," Xur asked, finding slight recognition in the man that was projected.
"Master Eno Cordova," Cal answered. "Did you know him?"
The zabrak shook his head. "Nah…just I thought I heard Trilla mumbling about an old Jedi with that name."
Cal's anxiety rose with that, but he turned to the recording that played. Cordova was shown examining the mural before them, glee clearly present on his face.
"Here it is," Cordova presented. "I have finally found an intact representation of this sacred Zeffo artifact. My friend, look closely," he said, pointing to specific parts of the art, and Xur's brow raised with confusion as to what was playing out before him. "This is Miktrull at the Vault on Bogano. You can see an object in their hand. Based on this imagery, I believe this object allows a Force wielder to perceive the mysteries of the Vault. This is the key, and the guide: the Zeffo Astrium."
Cal stepped forward, putting the pieces together, and Xur felt completely at his mercy.
"But who would destroy images of it and why?" Cordova sucked in a heavy breath of air. "It requires more research. However…our next step is clear: find an Astrium. If any still exist."
The red-headed Jedi narrowed his eyes. "An Astrium," he echoed, and looked down to BD below. "You ever heard of it?"
BD shook its head.
"Me neither, but a key…," Cal mused. "Yeah, I understand that. Looks like we know what we have to find," he then looked back to Xur as the structure opened, letting in the sunlight of Zeffo. "I could use your help…we could," he corrected, pointing to BD.
Xur scoffed. "Well, I'm going to have to play catch up, but," he then nodded. "If you'll have me, I'll do my best…just know that I may have to run off my own now and then. I've got my own mission."
Cal tipped his head in concession. "Sure, but it's great to have you back, nonetheless," he offered his hand.
Xur smiled and shook it. "Good to see I'm not the only one taking it to the Empire. You got a ride out of here?"
He nodded. "Yeah, we can get you out of here."
"Good, good, because…I think I probably pissed them off pretty good."
Boo-boop doo-dope-pree.
Xur laughed at BD. "No shit? Really?"
Cal nodded. "Yeah, a few of them landed near us while we made it through the Tomb. Admittedly, it was…pretty funny."
"I'll have to show you," Xur pointed, leading Cal out of the structure at to the view of the majestic valley. "The art of throwing stormtroopers around is an exquisite one."
"Very good, Padawan," Trilla's voice keyed in through their earpieces, and they both stopped in their tracks. "You've cleared the way."
"What are you talking about?" Cal asked, and Xur palmed his face.
Her laugh sent chills down both spines. "I needed this Tomb raised, and now that I have what I need, you are of no use to me."
Xur growled. "Trilla, if you go after Cal, you go after me. You understand that, right? Don't make me beat your ass again."
She laughed again. "Fight together. Die together. Just as all Jedi will."
Trilla had been desperately trying to ignore him ever since their duel, but he could hear the disarray in her voice, despite its sadistic and arrogant edge. That gave him hope, at least. Maybe his words were getting through after all.
"I'm not talking to you, Second Sister," Xur implored. "For what it's worth, Trilla, and despite the circumstances…it was good to be with you again, and know that one day, I promise to free you from this cage the Empire has thrown you in."
There was no response from her, just open-line static…until the connection was severed completely.
Xur sighed, his head drooping down as he closed his eyes.
"Goodbye, Trilla."
That was the longest chapter I have ever written, and it just ended up taking a lot of words to get my thoughts down. I know it was a lot, and I'm sorry if you're feeling overwhelmed with the reveals that happened here, but I hope you enjoyed it.
This is the end of Act 1, and next chapter I will actually be doing an interlude that will go back in time like the Prologue, before continuing with this main story.
How did I do? Please let me know! I can see this story has been doing well since I started writing, so thanks everyone for the support, and in the meantime, I'll continue to bring you quality chapters. This story is an ambitious project for me, and I hope you're having as much fun experiencing this as I am writing it.
Thanks for reading!
