CHAPTER 9

Knights of the Fallen Order
Part II

"You'll never know what you're made of until you set foot down the road."

Zakuul, 14 BBY

Imperial Gunship

This planet felt wrong.

Trilla's mind hadn't changed since the gunship had hit the stratosphere. The Force felt ancient…screaming of dead ghosts and lost power…screaming of failure. It only reminded her of the helmet she had cleaved in half, and the cape she had set ablaze; punishment for their inability to serve her any longer. She knew, if she had come here as the masked droid she once was, she would surely face the same result…driven by the hunt, the methodical manipulation of her prey.

No more. Now, she was the apex predator, striking with overwhelming force that would make any who opposed her cower in fear…and ultimately bow to her superiority.

The fear that Cal Kestis had lost when Xur Eon appeared, she was here to restore it.

She stretched her senses beyond their flying craft, fighting past the chilling nature of this dead world…and felt her quarry. Just as the admiral had promised, they both were here.

"Blaze," she called, the helmeted purge trooper standing at attention despite the shaking craft. "I believe your loyalty should be rewarded."

The rest of her squad, five other red and black armored men, all who had been present on Zeffo, had their heads turned her way as she faced them. "Lieutenant-Commander Blaze is my new second-in-command. If he gives you an order, it is as if I had given it. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," they replied in unison.

When Trilla's eyes came back to Blaze, he bowed his head. "I won't let you down, ma'am."

She nodded, and considered turning back to face the cockpit, but felt a second wind…an instinctual one. "These fugitives we're chasing…they've killed many of your…of our fellow men," she began, and she could feel the slight confusion from each of them but continued regardless. "Today…we can stop them from taking any more from us. Today we can make all those who have betrayed us bleed. We can return the favor!"

There were a few cheers as her men caught on, some with stoic nods in approval.

"Let us make them remember who we are. For the Empire!"

"For the Empire!" all echoed, fists raised.

With renewed confidence, Trilla faced the cockpit once more, just as the gunship began its descent.

"Approaching drop zone, Second Sister," the pilot relayed, turning his head with a nod. "For the Empire."

She peered through the blast shield. Just as she predicted, the Mantis was long gone. Cere had always been crafty when slicing encrypted transmissions, but her interference hardly mattered. Kestis and Eon would not leave here until they found what they came for, and their bolstered confidence after their victory on Zeffo would prove to be their downfall.

Shakily, the gunship set down, and the doors opened. Everyone jumped out, blasters raised to a dead world, and Blaze waved off the gunship once everyone was in position. Its downdraft blew through her hair as it ascended, but her eyes stayed focused on the broken skyline before her…and the durasteel skyway that branched off from the old landing pad.

Trilla keyed into her wrist comm. "Pilot, stay within range and search the skies. Do not engage the Mantis if located. Contact me first."

"Understood."

She deactivated the device and took point with her men. "Follow me," she guided, and walked down the path, the six of them following in tow. The Force was strong here…and her power was only enhanced with it.

Her crimson blade ignited…and she tasted blood.


Zakuul, 14 BBY

Skytrooper Foundry

Trilla was here…and she was getting closer.

Xur couldn't shake this awful feeling growing within him. Whether it was guilt or dread, he couldn't place, but neither of them boded particularly well for his preferred state of mind. For the sake of Cal's mission, as well as his decision-making, he needed to be impartial…free of assumptions, and clear-headed. Deep breaths, he took, deep breaths.

Nothing could stop his racing heart, the undeniable excitement of the coming battle, as well as the poorly placed desire to see Trilla's face once again…to have another chance at bringing her home.

Wishful thinking…at best.

He needed to get her out of his head. Cal's trust in him was already wavering, thanks to the ignorant lateron, and despite the zabrak's regular relationship with distrust, now was a truly horrid time for it.

But quite frankly, it was impossible. It was some feigned obligation to her, forced upon himself via his own stupidity and lack of better judgment. There were so many times he should've ended her life, and perhaps spared Cal the undeniable wrath he had unlocked within her; the only thing driving her ever further was the promise of sated vengeance…on all her enemies. He could feel it. There was a rabid animal on the hunt for them both…and it had to be her.

"Master," HK-69 called, still leading the way. "I am reading a heart rate increase. I can only deduce that you feel something exciting is incoming. When will I get to kill something?"

"Uh…soon enough, HK," Xur assured. His new droid friend had been useful thus far, but he was beginning to have concerns with his obvious obsession with killing…meatbags as he called them. "The Empire will be on top of us soon."

"I do not know what this 'Empire' is, Master, but it sounds like a cesspool of meatbags that need to be slaughtered," HK replied.

Xur chuckled. "That's one way to look at it. Why don't you tell me what happened to your Empire?"

HK replied with what he could best describe as a snort in disinterest. "Who knows? My memory banks are quite foggy after I was violently deactivated, impressively I might add, and I lack the emotional processing core to care about it."

"Well isn't that…interesting," Xur noted, somewhat annoyed at the uselessness of it all. "So, aside from your obvious obsession with murdering people, what are your other functions?"
The droid kept pace, his blaster rifle held across his chest. "I have many functions, Master…not any I'd like to use."

"Tell me anyway."

"Very well. I am capable of translation and bodyguard protocol. Other than that I specialize in combat needs. You tell me to kill something, I kill it for you."

Xur groaned. "Yeah, yeah. Seems to be the only thing you're good at."

HK paused, facing Xur. "Master, you say that as if it is appalling. I have never understood this standpoint between you meatbags…it must be all the water."

"The what?"

"Within you organics…all that water. I think all the constant sloshing drives you mad, and gives you these insane ideas about…pacifism," the droid virtually shivered at the mention of the word.

"Do I come off as a pacifist to you?"

"Not particularly. I believe I may be in good hands…the other meatbag, however."

The zabrak raised his hand and pointed forward. "HK…the foundry."

"Yes, yes, I apologize, Master," HK jerked his torso forward, continuing his walk. "It's not far from the Eternal Spire, the tallest building on Zakuul."

Xur's eyes narrowed, and he looked up. There were multiple buildings that breached the cloud cover, but the closest to the two of them was much skinnier once it hit the clouds…like a spire. He hadn't noticed it before…but with what HK had said.

"Is that it?" Xur pointed, and HK's eyes followed.

"Yes, Master," HK confirmed. "That is the Eternal Spire. Atop it is the throne room, a sphere suspended in space, just where the skies end."

He paused. "Where the skies end?"

"Yes, Master, where the skies end."

Leave it to a droid to accidently figure everything out. Xur was quick, activating his wrist-comm. "Cal…I know where the Astrium is."


"I'm a little busy at the moment!" Cal shouted into his comm in a full sprint, jerking his head to dodge an incoming blaster bolt. BD stayed in the most compacted form he could, while a squad of scout and ranged troopers chased him through the empty streets.

"What the hell did you do?" Xur asked

Cal ducked into an alley, sparks burning at his clothing as bolts ricocheted off the durasteel wall. "Well…I uh…got their attention!" Quickly, he used a force-enhanced jump to grab ahold of a ledge, and then shimmied across, using his upper body strength to climb along the side of the building until he could get a proper foothold.

"Dammit Cal, I said cause a distraction, not get yourself killed."

Poorly aimed shots missed him completely as he finally reached the roof, out of reach for now. His hands had suffered minor cuts from the uneven and rusted metal, but nothing he couldn't deal with.

"You said you knew where the Astrium was?" he asked, kneeling behind a pyramid-shape protruding from the corner of the roof, blaster bolts pounding it from the side.

"It's atop the Eternal Spire. Look around. It's the closest building to breach the clouds. Skinnier the higher it goes."

Cal peeked around the skyline, but eventually found what Xur had described. "I think I see it, but it's a fair number of miles away. I'm going to need those reinforcements soon. I've got every stormtrooper riding my ass as we speak."

There was a moment of silence as his zabrak companion seemed to be conversing with HK, and Cal took that time to peer back around. Sure enough, his eyes locked on a red blade, flanked by a squad of purge troopers…one loading a rocket launcher.

"Oh…fuck me," Cal grumbled, and BD trilled in warning. "Xur…Trilla's with them…and they got fucking rockets."

"Shit," Xur cursed. "Keep moving and try to avoid her. HK says there's a station for the tram system near your location. He claims that BD may be able to get it operational with a jump-start."

"A whole tram system?" Cal questioned, but BD gave him reassuring beeps. "You just need to get into the right conduit? Alright buddy, I'm going to trust you on this one."

In that moment, the firing stopped, but Cal didn't dare peek over just yet.

"Padawan!" Trilla shouted from below. "I know you're there. Come out!"

Cal gulped somewhat, the undeniable anxiety returning from both times she had chased him down. Wherever he went, she was just behind him, nipping at his toes…and if felt as if his capture and defeat were inevitable.

No. I am a Jedi. Now is the time to let go of my fear.

He stood and paced out from behind the pyramid, revealing himself to the 15 troopers down below, and Trilla, looking up to him. To his shock, her cape and helmet were gone…as well as that sadistic smirk she had carried when she had taunted him behind a ray shield on Zeffo. Unlike before, he felt no joy from her…just raw emotion…instinctual reactions powering her every move.

"Had a bad feeling you'd show up here," Cal admitted, projecting his voice enough for her to hear.

Trilla only pointed her blade his direction. "The games are over, Padawan. Surrender now, or I will kill you with a barbaric savagery you have never before witnessed."

"Afraid I can't do that, Trilla," Cal replied, his hilt in hand. "Thought you'd know better than to expect me to give in."

"I didn't," she growled, her grip on her hilt tightening, before slashing her hand through the air. "Fire!"

Cal's eyes widened as the trooper beside her launched their rocket, and only through a perfectly timed warning in the Force did he speed-dash to the edge of the roof and jump, the explosion virtually vaporizing where he last stood. Screaming as he fell, he barely grabbed ahold of side railing on the building next to him, his arms protesting as he was brought to a sudden stop. BD let out his equivalent to a scream.

"Hang on, BD!" he shouted as the building collapsed, metal screaming as the rusted supports finally gave in. Cal used his swinging momentum to jump to another railing and shimmied across until he could jump to a shorter building roof. Once he landed, he took off at a full sprint. "Xur! Xur, come in! Send BD the nav-point!"

Another rocket slammed into the building he just left, but this much taller one began to fall towards him, threatening to crush him like an afterthought. Once he reached the edge of the roof, he jumped without much choice, landing with a roll in the street below, his body protesting from the demanding endeavor.

"Sent it!" Xur responded as Cal did his best to quickly pick himself up. "Are you alright? What's happening?"

"She's insane!" Cal shouted back, BD displaying the holomap before him as the buildings around him continued to collapse. "She's literally fucking insane!"

"Get to that tram, Cal!" Xur urged. "We're moving as fast as we can!"

Cal didn't have time to respond, as once the holomap flickered away, he spotted Trilla in the corner of his eye, her blade ignited and sprinting his way. He picked himself up and ran towards the station, as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Get back here!" Trilla shouted. "There's no escape, Padawan! You hear me?!"

Cal knew better than to waste his precious breath with a reply, as he was going to need it for the next half mile of running from a lunatic inquisitor…and Trilla was fast…unnaturally fast.

He'd just have to be faster.

Calming his breath as best he could, Cal reached within himself, redirecting his energy downwards and to his feet, and he soon felt himself moving quicker than humanly possible. Wind roared past his ears as a new burst of speed ripped the air in front of him, cutting through that space like a knife.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

"I know, I know! I'm trying!" Cal replied. BD had warned that Trilla was gaining on him, despite his newfound power, but he could feel her. Anyone who could feel the Force could. She appeared as a dark leviathan, roaring through the spiritual plane louder than any other creature nearby.

There…he could see it. Before him was a pathway that lead below into a darkened pavilion, and through shattered glass windows he spotted the track…and an inoperable tram at the station.

BD let out an ear-shattering trill.

"Find the conduit, BD!" Cal shouted, tossing the little droid forward. "Find the-," he was cut off by Trilla slamming into him from behind, taking him down hard. His nose cracked against the durasteel floor, and the pain that followed convinced him that it had been fractured. Danger sense befell him, and only through a quick roll did Trilla's blade miss him as she stabbed downwards. Flipping onto his feet, Cal's blue blade ignited, and he locked with Trilla's crimson before she bisected his body.

Her strength was insane. With one heave, she pushed him back onto the floor, slashing downwards just slow enough for Cal to block it, but it required both of his hands to hold her back.

"You're going to die, Padawan!" she roared, proceeding to hammer him repeatedly with her blade, keeping him pinned to the floor. "Cere will be gifted your head soon enough!" The rage she projected burned away at his very essence, and he felt as if there was nothing he could do against her raw strength and power.

But there was always a cost.

Her swings continued…erratic but with a pattern, and her senses were blinded by her undying rage. With timing, he rolled during her swing, and she kept going, falling forward enough for him to unleash a howling force push, in which she tumbled backwards before rolling back to her feet, giving him enough time to regain his own.

"Your rage has unbalanced you, Trilla," Cal warned. "You need to let it go!"

"Let go?!" she almost laughed hysterically. "I'm stronger than I ever have been! Never!"

"He told me what happened to you," Cal continued, truthfully buying time for BD. "What you went through. We can help you!"

"It will be your undoing!" she screamed, her hilt flipping forward into a circle, and igniting the second blade with a spin. "As will your misplaced faith in a betrayer!"

The lights suddenly flashed on, and Cal heard the whirr of machinery flaring back to life as the tram reactivated. With the increase in light level, it stunned Trilla long enough for Cal to make a break for the tram sitting at the station.

Trilla zipped forward, and Cal parried most of her attacks with ease, but her power was taking its toll on his stamina, as well as the required readjustment for her two blades. Pushing off when granted the chance, Cal ignited his second blade and went on the offensive, forcing her to roughly defend his spinning quick slashes from the dual blade.

"BD get that thing moving!" he ordered, and his droid companion hovered from the console as fast as he could…until Trilla created enough space between them to grab ahold of the droid with an outstretched hand…and began to close into a fist.

"No!" Cal screamed and swung with all his might, the impact forcing her to drop BD and hold him at bay with grit teeth. He sidestepped past her next swing and landed a solid kick to her chest, using her stunned time to slow her movements to a crawl with his own gesture. "Now!"

BD, at the tram's control console, activated the vehicle, and Cal leapt through the open windows and inside, just as it began to pick up speed. A sigh of relief came next, and he smiled to his little droid friend.

Until the sound of rumbling metal…and the slowing of their single-car tram.

Cal scrambled to his feet and looked out the back, seeing Trilla in the middle of the track with two hands outstretched, struggling to hold herself in place. "More power, buddy!"

Boop beep!

BD increased the current, and the rumbling only worsened, but Trilla began to slip up, trying everything in her power to hold it still.

No avail. The inquisitor lost her grip and was pulled forward, face-planting on the durasteel track as they raced away, losing sight of her within seconds.

Cal slid onto the floor, breathing heavily…the first full breath he had taken since that first rocket toppled that building. BD was still hooked up to the console but turned his head 180 degrees.

Bo-peep?

"I'm alright BD…thanks buddy."

The same could not be said for Trilla…and he needed to tell Cere.

He tapped his earpiece, waiting for the signal to go through. "Cere…Cere, come in."

"Cal! We read you," she answered, sounding relieved. "We detected the explosions from up here. Are you alright?"

Cal took another breath. "For now…yes…but, Cere…Trilla…"

He heard her pause and detected a hard swallow. "What about her, Cal?"

"What I deducted about her before…I…I was right…but something is wrong with her Cere, something is terribly wrong with her."

"What do you mean?"

Cal swallowed himself, realizing that he'd have to tell Xur as well. "Cere…I think she cracked."


Well played.

I had a good teacher.

…too damn smart for your own good.

You're not as subtle as you think.

…such a thing as reckless generosity.

I can heal you!

Trust me!

And what have you been doing?

Stay with the younglings, Trilla.

She betrayed you.

She abandoned you.

You are mine.

I promise to free you from this cage…

What will it take for you to love me…?

You need to let it go!

Trilla.

Commander.

Second Sister.

Sister.

Sister.

Sister.

Inquisitor.

Sir.

Suduri.

"Ma'am?"

Trilla's entire body jolted as if she had been hit with a defibrillator, and her eyes flashed into total focus, already picking herself up directly after her sudden revival. Her lips tasted of rusted metal, as well as blood, and as soon as her gloved hand hit her forehead, she knew her face was bleeding.

"Ma'am? Are you there?"

It was all a haze, but habit and instinct moved her finger to her wrist-comm. "C-commander…what is it?"

"We lost you for a moment," Blaze replied.

She was so confused. Her vision may have shocked straight, but her mind was a jumbled mess, filled with nothing but broken memories and times long lost. In fact, she didn't even know where she was. All she could see was black, but behind her was a bright light. Then she remembered…train tracks…a tram…a Padawan.

Cal Kestis.

Trilla forced herself to stand. She remembered seeing him atop a building…and then just seeing red. In all her years as an inquisitor, she had never desired to kill someone so badly…and she had lost all control. A feigned attempt at getting her to let go of her hatred came next, then she almost crushed his droid before he slowed her…and she failed to stop the tram with her raw might.

"Kestis," she huffed into her wrist-comm, taking her first step down the track. "Find him, Commander."

"We are searching as we speak, ma'am," Blaze assured. "He can't have gotten far. It's good to hear you're still alive at least."

"Spare me the…-," she caught herself, also remembering what had happened before. "…thanks. Follow the tram line. He's reactivated the old system. I'm going to follow it alone."

Blaze paused. "I can send someone to meet you."

"No," Trilla denied. "They'll just slow me down. You have your orders, Commander."

"Yes ma'am. Blaze out."

She cut the connection, her sluggish walk picking up as she regained herself. It didn't matter how far the tram had gone…she would catch it…and she would catch him.


Zakuul, 14 BBY

Eternal Spire

"Master, the foundry is this way."

Xur barely regarded HK-69's direction, as had been the case since Cal had shut off his comm. Whatever had happened between him and Trilla, it was projected heavily in the Force; avatars of light and dark colliding in spectacular fashion…and only reinforced his own guilt. As Cal had described, Trilla had gone "fucking insane", word for word, which perfectly denoted the seriousness, as he hardly ever used foul language. It had been a…worry for Xur, especially after seeing the likes of the Third Si…of Effa, and her obvious mental ineptitude.

If he had learned anything as the Second Brother, it was that these inquisitors, while formidable, had their minds dangling over insanity via a thread, and it only took one slip-up for that thread to break. This had been especially the case with those who had been forced to the Dark Side; those who had been a shining example of the Jedi Order; avatars of compassion, kindness and defense…such as Effa. Trilla, while a good Jedi, was far from perfect, and with Cere's betrayal, probably required less enticement, which afforded her mind more room for error. She had something to direct her hatred towards, while Effa had just been tortured to the point that her mind was completely lost, leaving behind only dark instinct.

Another thing the Empire would answer for in time.

"Master," HK called again. "I am capable of performing psychological analysis. Do you require some?"

"No, HK," Xur waved off, his eyes still locked on the clouds above. "There's just…there's something up there for me."

"Is it this Astrium you keep referring to?" the droid asked. "The other meatbag seemed to become aroused every time he mentioned it."

Xur's brow raised, and he finally looked to HK. "Aroused?"

"Yes. Aroused: to evoke or awaken, commonly used to describe-."

"I know what it's commonly used for HK, which is the reason why I wonder you chose to use that word."

HK's expressionless face was able to project dumbfound regardless. "Would you prefer the term excited?"

"Yes, very much so."

There was silence as Xur returned his attention above, and HK's head jerked back and forth.

"Is this because you were aroused when the meatbag mentioned the name of the female as she-."

"Alright, enough!" Xur protested.

"Shutting up now, Master."

Honestly, had his mind not been so preoccupied with the undeniable call to the top of that spire, he might've laughed at the droid's attempt at comedy.

It was strong…ancient…omnipotent…eternal.

"I have to go up there," Xur finally said. "Alone."

"Alone?" HK echoed. "I must object Master!"

"You can object all you like, but you're a droid, so you'll do as I say," he almost growled. "Get to the foundry, activate the skytroopers. This was your idea anyway. Once you do that, find…the other meatbag and protect him. If he dies, I'll melt you down, got it?"

HK's head slowly nodded. "Affirmative. Does this mean I get to kill something for you?"

Xur sighed, making his way up the steps to the spire's base. "Anything wearing white or black and red armor, feel free to kill."

"Oh! Thank you Master!" HK praised, sounding purely elated. "I will not let you down!"

"I'm sure," he said without a backwards look, leaving the droid as he entered the spire building. In perfect honesty, the zabrak didn't mind HK much at all, despite the constant worship treatment, something he had never cared for, and envisioned the droid being quite useful in the future.

If his combat skills were truly as great as he described, not that he imagined the droid having much success against an inquisitor, probably an unfair expectation. Although he swore he read something in the archives…something about HK units killing Jedi…

Most likely Jedi that deserved to be killed.

The lack of light shrouded his surroundings in darkness, and before long he was forced to ignite his red blade. Immediately, he was greeted to the sight of worn golden lining along the walls, only specs remaining from its crusted, but most likely false, extravagance. Fabric was sprayed along his path, torn to shreds or simply aged to a point of deterioration, but it was impressive to see it around, nonetheless. A swamp world such as this, especially if their climate control systems were no longer functioning, could face torrential and devastating weather.

How the spire was still standing was another mystery.

Xur progressed through many halls, doing his best to follow the faint call in the Force that kept nagging him. Not recently had something so insignificant earned such a sharp reaction from him…but this he couldn't walk away from…it was…fated.

After many minutes of navigating a labyrinth of grand halls and sections of the building, he came to a circular turbolift, large enough to support perhaps a battalion of troops. Its architecture was glass-based…and somehow unblemished.

His boots hit the lift, and expected nothing to occur, but he was nearly blinded by the sudden flash of lights in a circular motion around the platform and jolted out of a reverie by the sound of machinery coming back to life.

"What the…" he trailed off; his lightsaber pointed at air. The elevator than began to ascend, nearly knocking him off his feet from the sudden movement before he regained his balance, traveling up the spire at a high speed. His surroundings were mostly darkness, until the shaft gave way to glass, and a view of the planet around him as he gained altitude.

He was ascending the spire at an incredible speed…and the feeling he experienced was increasing exponentially.

Holding his blade ignited, he broke cloud cover within seconds, and soon watched the sky blue become black, illuminated by the countless stars in the universe. The spire stretched from the ground and into space itself…but soon his view was obstructed once more.

The turbolift stopped, and lights illuminated one by one the path forward.

Never before had he experienced such an aberration in the Force, magnetically drawn down the path as if he had walked many times before. Despite his reservation, he paced with purpose and out of habit, virtually mindless as the door approached.

And then…that feeling…became a pit in his stomach.

Xur opened the door…revealing an extravagant throne room, encased in a gigantic glass sphere that separated false atmosphere from the vacuum of space. It was truly a sight to behold…until his eyes fell upon the throne.

"Xur Eon," The First Sister called, her mask projecting a voice he knew too well. "Welcome."


Cal jumped from the tram car as BD cut the power landing at the spire station highlighted on the map Xur's HK unit had transferred. The pit in his stomach that he had felt on Zeffo had returned, after fighting Trilla, which worried him. He knew Cere's former apprentice wasn't dead…and perhaps this was something else. As he and BD ascended the stairs and back to the above level, the feeling only worsened, as he was greeted to the view of the spire base, and no one there to meet him.

That wasn't the plan…and Xur certainly should've reached the base by now.

"Xur, come in," he tapped into his earpiece. "I'm at the spire base. Where are you?"

No response. All he received was static.

Whoooo. Oooooooo.

"Yeah, I'm worried too, BD," Cal admitted, switching the frequency. "Cere…Greez…come in. Someone, come in!"

There were footsteps…coming from the stairs he had just ascended.

"We're not finished, Padawan," Trilla growled, appearing before him, one side of her face covered in her own blood.

Strangely enough, Cal wasn't terrified…he was annoyed.

"You…you jammed my comms," he deducted. "You wanted me to come here. Was this your plan all along?"

Trilla only spat, holding her hilt at her side as she circled him. "You truly have the wits of a scrapper."

Cal had his master's hilt in his hand, circling her in the opposite movement. "And you've gone insane. How did you even get here?"

The inquisitor breathed heavily, and Cal noticed that much of her energy must've been spent catching up to him. "There are things about the Force that a failed Padawan like yourself could never possibly understand. The Dark Side is a powerful tool for achieving the…unnatural."

"It's tearing you apart, Trilla. Can't you see that?" Cal insisted. "On Bracca, you had control, but now…now you're just a rabid animal."

"Your misplaced pity disgusts me," she scowled. "Besides…Eon promised to meet you here…did he not?"

Cal's gaze hardened.

"And where is he now, Padawan?" she approached, both of her blades igniting. "Did he…betray you…just as I promised he would?"

Enough of this.

Cal's own blue blade illuminated the night. "You're twisted, Trilla."

"I am," she answered, marching forward. "It is what Cere made me!"

They both lunged.


"At last," the First Sister enunciated as she slowly rose from the ancient throne, its majesty lost to time. "You have come to continue your training."

Xur wasn't as stunned to see her here as he probably should've been, but how she had come to Zakuul without him knowing, especially a being so dark, was nothing short of impressive.

But he wasn't here to give compliments.

"Haven't you heard?" Xur asked, slowly pacing down the long path that lead to the throne's platform. "Training's over. I'm out now."

"Oh, I am well aware of your deception," she replied, her augmented voice through her almost skull-like mask whispering to his very soul. "Although, I find it interesting that you believe anything has changed."

Xur cocked his head. "Well, I guess there are processing fees for information, which could delay the word spreading around. Maybe you should pick up the premium package next time."

She actually laughed at that. "Such a powerful wit. Your confidence has elevated to a point in which you are beginning to believe yourself invincible," she hit the bottom of the steps, and the two of them stood off on opposite ends of the path. "Comparing yourself to the Imperial slaves of the Inquisitorious is not only a pathetic lack of vision, but also…disappointing."

"Imperial slaves, huh?" Xur mused. "Aren't you one of those as well?"

She snorted in amusement. "I serve no one, but myself. My interests are all that matters to me, not those of the mechanical monster who calls himself Sith, or the crippled and deformed slime that sits atop a throne of dead Jedi. Their power may be formidable, but my vision stretches beyond anything they could possibly comprehend."

The zabrak nearly laughed out loud. "You think you're more powerful than the Sith? If that's true, then why bother posing as an Inquisitor?"

"For the same reasons you did. What better place to hide than beneath the feet of your enemies, posing as something so insignificant that you become beneath them in their eyes. They become blind to you, and a Sith cannot kill what they cannot see."

"If you could kill Darth Vader," the name itself elicited strong hatred within him. "You would've done it by now. Why wait?"

Her chuckle slithered across his spine. "There it is…your hatred for the Sith Apprentice is potent…"

Xur's mind began to fumble, and for the first time in many years, a mental attack brought him to his knees. He grunted, shoring up his mental barrier with all his might, but she was strong, and he wheezed as his defenses began to fall.

"Do not struggle…" the First Sister eased, her head raising upwards. "Let me follow the current…deepdeeper…"

"Get…out," drool seeped from his mouth as Xur tried to fight her off. "Of…my…"

"And the why…" she rambled, before her head straightened, and the attack stopped. "Ah. Now it all falls into place."


Blue and red clashed into flashes of bright yellow and orange, the glows becoming purple between the two combatants. Trilla was much more controlled in this exchange, as opposed to the blind frenzy she had resorted to in their original clash. This time, Cal found himself on the offensive, thoroughly fed up with dealing with her at his back since Bracca; her constant taunts, her blatant insult to his fallen master, and the obvious threat she posed to every child listed on Cordova's holocron.

In this moment of emotion, he didn't care who she was anymore, only that she needed to be stopped.

They had a drawn-out exchange of blocks and slashes, neither one able to create space as the normal aggressor had to readjust to her weaker specialty in defense, while the Jedi uncharacteristically pressed forward, his blade slamming into hers with much more intensity. Feeling her defenses wavering, Trilla kicked off of Cal's chest and backflipped on to her feet, creating enough space between the two to earn her a breather.

"Is this rage I feel from you, Padawan?" she questioned, deftly twirling her blade in front and behind her in a mesmerizing fashion.

"Are you still talking?" Cal retorted and lunged forward, forcing Trilla to defend once again. "All you ever do is talk, talk, talk."

Now he was getting lippy, and Trilla didn't care much for that.

Trilla parried off a saber lock and went on a daring and quick attack, her two blades cutting through the air at an incredible speed as she engaged the spinning mechanism. Cal did his best to readjust, but her sudden attack caught him off guard, barely stopping her blade before it severed his arm. She took advantage, pulling her blade away and sending him tumbling to the ground with a force push.

Cal brushed it off, but Trilla was already advancing upon him, her blade raised.

A sonic wave ripped through the air, engulfing Trilla completely before knocking her backwards and onto the artificial floor.

"Back off female," HK-69 warned as he landed, his jetpack winding down. "The Master said if this one dies; he'll melt me down."

Cal huffed, rising to his feet as he shook off his fall. "Uh…thanks, HK."

"Don't get sentimental. I am merely following a directive."

Trilla rubbed her ear, seemingly attempting to stop them from ringing any further. "You cunt of a droid," she threatened. "I'll-, ugh!" she gasped as HK kicked her hilt from her hand, his durasteel foot threatening to break her fingers. Cal watched it grind along the flooring, out of reach for her.

"Red and black armor," HK confirmed, aiming his blaster. "Die, meatbag."

Cal was about to reach out and stop the droid…but nothing happened. He just stood there, his metal boot holding Trilla down…but as if he was locked in stasis mode.

Beep doop pree?

"I don't know," Cal answered BD. "HK?"

Trilla breathed heavily, perplexed herself, before HK finally popped his head upwards. "Well isn't this unfortunate."

"Huh?" Cal and Trilla replied in unison.

HK stopped pointing his blaster. "It appears I am mechanically incapable of killing you."

"And why is that?" Trilla asked, too stunned by the turn of events to ask herself why it mattered anyway.

"Xur Eon, my master, has placed you on my omega no-kill protocol," HK answered, and Cal's eyes widened. "You should count yourself lucky. Only one name can be placed on that list."

Stunned silence followed…and then came gradual chuckling.

Then…Trilla laughed.

Hysterically.

"Don't you…don't you see, Padawan?" Trilla taunted, struggling to contain her reaction to the news. "You're surrounded by betrayers," she then went into another hysterical laughing fit, and Cal could only crane his head to one side, stunned that Greez was actually right.

Xur had chosen her over him.

"My humor algorithms cannot deduct how this is worth laughing over," HK rambled as she continued to laugh. "Especially with my foot about to collapse your-," a blaster bolt ripped through his chassis, silencing Trilla, and with the cold reaction of a droid, his body flipped and contorted, aiming and firing his blaster with mechanical and lightning precision. His shot hit home, but a purge trooper's armor was built to sustain hits from lightsabers, and had little trouble warding off one bolt.

"Step away from her, droid," Blaze spat, his rifle raised and followed by the contingent of troopers that had chased after Cal before. "Surrender, Jedi!"

Cal's teeth grit as he slowly backed off, but HK made no such moves. "It is not possible to harm this…human. It is suggested that you run while my rifle recharges, meatbags."

Trilla groaned. "For fuck sake, gun it down!"

Many of the regular stormtroopers raised their blasters, but in the next moment a fireteam of them were vaporized by a flurry of rockets, followed by the sound of booster rockets and raining blasterfire. Cal witnessed the iron-clad skytrooper droids descend from the sky, six of them in all, their skull-like heads menacing just to look at.

"Oh…I may have forgot to mention the skytroopers I commandeered," HK continued, until Blaze plowed into him from the side, taking the droid down boldly and removing it from atop Trilla.

Her eyes moved to her hilt out of reach…as did Cal's.

They both reached out.


"I see it all now," the First Sister mused, her glowing red optics fixed on a kneeling Xur, whose hands were still holding his own head. "Why he wanted her. Why you hate him."

"What are you?" Xur heaved, feeling his mind return to his own control.

"As I said before, but you have not listened…you already know who I am," she hinted. "My veil of secrecy has not fallen like yours, but it is not as impenetrable as you are convinced."

"Listen lady…," he breathed, rising to his feet, hilt in hand. "I have no idea-."

"Yes you do!" she insisted, and it might as well have been an ear-splitting scream to the zabrak. He fell to his knees once more, this time his mind reaching for images from his past…images he had buried forever.

Mama!

Stay back, son! I have to do this!

Nooooo!

Xur groaned. "Get."

Mamaaaaa!

Come with me. I have to get you someplace safe!

Stay here…just stay here.

"Out."

Who left you here, little one?

Come now, let's find you a home.

"…of my HEAD!" Xur screamed, unleashing a leveling force repulse attack that had the First Sister raise both hands in defense, brought to her knees. The zabrak roared, leaping through the air with his crimson blade ignited, and he landed with a clash of her own's sudden reveal. "I'll kill you!"

"If you must struggle…" she defended herself against his force-enhanced, dark side fueled onslaught, utilizing the most devastating use of Form VII he could muster, but she reacted as if she had seen it before. "Then writhe in agony!"

The First Sister sidestepped his errant swing and poured lightning from her fingers, enveloping him completely in the electrical surge. Its power launched him backwards, knocking his saber from his hand…which was the least of his worries.

It felt as if he was being frozen to death and melted alive. His muscles were completely useless, and all he experienced was pain.

"If you wish to play at being an inquisitor, then suffer as she did," she said through his screams. "Experience what had broken her…and feel it break you."

Xur couldn't feel anything, not until she finally relinquished her attack. Despite its end, he still couldn't move. Whatever she had done, it had paralyzed him, as well as numbed all of his outside senses. Never before had he felt such agony, his throat devastated, lungs scorched.

All he heard was footsteps behind him, while his body continued to emit static.

"You hate him…because you knew him," she continued, looking down upon him until she knelt. "Anakin Skywalker was your most trusted ally, your closest friend."

Xur growled, his senses returning, trying to rise before being hit with another burst of lightning that silenced him again.

"Listen! You will learn to listen…and if I must take every sense from you, I will do so," she warned, and by now he was too weak to object. "Don't you wonder why he found her so quickly?"

He made no movement.

The First Sister leaned in, her voice a whisper. "Vader knew her, just as you knew him."


Trilla's saber was suspended in the air, she and Cal wrestling for possession of it as the fight between her men and the skytroopers raged. Neither of them gave an inch, their commitment equal, determination stalwart.

Another sonic blast barraged Trilla, and she relinquished her hold, covering her ears as it ravaged her senses. The hilt smacked into Cal's hand and he rose, marching towards her with a pace of victory…until his limbs seized. His mind felt as if it was hijacked, psychometry tearing through him like a raiding party…showing him nothing but despairagony.

Cal fell to his knees, and he saw it.

He saw everything.


"Vader knew the scope of her abilities, and with the Jedi dead, she was the last of their kind," the First Sister explained. "No one immersed within the Dark Side can heal wounds. It is a power exclusive to that of a practitioner of the light…and the Dark Lord was desperate."

"He brought her before a woman…


Cal saw everything through Trilla's eyes. The day Cere tried to lure the Imperial patrol away from their position…the day Trilla had been captured…and then:

Trilla was dropped onto the durasteel grate, taking in full breaths at last. She coughed and choked, finally free of the hands that had never been there. Tears poured from her face, robes torn and shredded from being dragged along various surfaces, her knees, knuckled and elbows bloodied and blistered.

His breathing never faltered, and each breath that monster emitted was another paralyzing chill down her spine. Tentatively, her eyes paced the dark room…seeing only a medical table…and a body atop it.

"Rise," the monster commanded, and she was grabbed by the two white-armored men, jabbing her with stun sticks at their leisure.

"On your feet, skank," one of them taunted, stunning her again. "Weakling little traitor."

"Ha ha!" the other continued, joining in, then monster not moving to interrupt their needless breach of her dignity. "Can't wait to break you open."

Trilla tried to resist, but it was only met with more electrocution, and one step from the monster had her frozen in place. She trembled, fear ravaging her every being. "W-what do you want?"

"Bring her back, or suffer," he answered, pointing to the body. The troopers stunned her more as they forced her to turn, shoving her to the edge of the table. Her blurred vision looked upon the limp but tranquil body of a human female, younger than thirty. The woman's long, brown hair was her most obvious feature, but she had never seen her before.

Trilla knew what she could do…but raising the dead.

"I…I can't-."

She was suspended in the air once more, clawing at her throat. "You will," the monster threatened. "Or you will know nothing but agony."

He dropped her once more, and again she had to suffer the indignities forced upon her by his guards before she looked over the woman again. Trilla tried, reaching out…doing everything in her power to awaken the dead being beneath her hands…but there was no life to transfer to. It was like pouring water onto dead plants, seeping back into the dirt and being lost forever.

She tried, and she failed.

Cal only heard tortured screaming…her screaming…afterwards.


"Padme," Xur gasped, his voice stricken and gone.

"Ah," the First Sister realized. "Senator Amidala…of course. Oh, my Lord, you truly are pathetic."

The zabrak's eyes couldn't even produce tears…and the only thing he wanted to do was cry. He had failed her; subjected Trilla to extraordinary suffering because he wasn't strong enough to kill Anakin when he had the chance.

"But that isn't the only reason you tortured her, was it?" the First Sister asked rhetorically, her thoughts processing out loud. "You knew the depths of his…feelings for her, so you made her suffer…you made them all suffer, to make him suffer."

A tear finally emerged from Xur's eye, just as the First Sister looked back to him. Unexpectedly, she reached out with her gloved hand, and gently wiped it away.

"And for that, my Lord, you will pay dearly."

The zabrak suddenly felt himself suspended, and the First Sister began to walk towards the turbolift, levitating his form above the ground.

"Come with me, and we shall begin."


"Trilla…" Cere gasped, restrained in the exact model chair Trilla herself had suffered in for an unquantifiable amount of time. She stood before her former master, dressed in the garments the Empire had gifted her…for the role she had submitted to.

A trooper before her presented the helmet of the Second Sister, in which she took without hesitation. She was ravaged by hatred, seeing nothing but restrained red towards the broken woman before her…and could taste her revenge in the air.

The time had come.

"No…" Cere pleaded, but Trilla didn't care, she lifted the helmet and slid it over her face, letting it lock in place for her betrayer to see.

The Second Sister had been born.

"NOOOO!" Cere bellowed, and a dark wave in the force tore through the air. Trilla felt the deaths of all the troopers within the room, and she herself collapsed, barely clinging to life from the attack.

From her blurred vision…she watched Cere free herself, the Dark Side fueling her every step, and leave her there to die.

Trilla would find her…and she would end her…permanently.

Cal's shivering finally stopped, and his vision returned to reality.

There was silence. He saw skytrooper bodies surrounding him, lifeless and deactivated, critical parts shot to oblivion…and beyond them were the scattered parts of Imperial troops blown to pieces, or their cold, dead bodies sprawled out on the ground.

As his senses returned, he rose to his feet, and was shocked by the image of HK-69's lifeless body dropped before him…in a position of defense. BD stood over the assassin droid; his optics focused…his demeanor of despair.

"BD…" Cal called to his little friend, who looked up to him. "What happened?"

Dooooooo. Beep boop pree deet deet. Booooooo.

"He…defended me…until the last man?" he translated, and watched BD desperately try to reactivate the droid, but to no avail. "Don't worry buddy…we'll fix him…I promise."

BD then turned his head, looking past the bodies, and Cal followed.

Trilla was sitting, her back against a durasteel wall…still alive. She was covered in blood, and her left arm hung uselessly beside her, two purge trooper bodies sprawled out in front of her feet. Cal could feel her agony, and his eyes keyed on her right hand, pressing a blaster wound just below her rib cage.

"Trilla…" Cal eased, approaching her. The inquisitor's already heaving breaths quickening as her yellowing eyes locked on his. "Easy," he said, returning his blade to his belt, but keeping hers as he raised his hands. "Easy. I saw what you've been through…I saw everything."

"Back away," she warned through grit teeth, even if Cal knew she was unable to defend herself. "Save your pity!"

"Trilla, you need help," Cal insisted, and BD came up alongside his feet. "You're going to die."

"Maybe I want to die!" she growled, and Cal took a step back. "Do not force me to experience the indignity of being saved by Cere's replacement as her pet."

He went slowly, taking a knee. "BD, a stim?"

"Leave me be!" Trilla roared.

"Back away from her, Jedi," a blaster clicked, and Cal quickly rose to his feet, his hands raised. One purge trooper had survived, the same that had tackled HK before Cal was subjected to Trilla's past.

"She needs help, now," Cal insisted.

"I know," Blaze nodded, keeping his blaster pointed. "Back away."

The Jedi wanted to help her, but there was nothing he could do from here, and he accepted that, giving in to the trooper's commands. Blaze honored that, dropping his weapon and removing his helmet, kneeling beside her. In all honesty, he was in no better condition than she, but he pressed on, trying to tend to her wounds.

Cal admired that…something he didn't expect.

"Blaze…just let me go," she almost begged, her eyelids shutting.

"Not on my watch, ma'am," he shook his head, pulling her limp hand from her wound. It was a blaster shot that had ripped straight through her, but in the best spot for her to survive. "Just hold still."

While Blaze tended to her, the Mantis swooped in from above, landing at the base of the tower with haste. Cal left the two of them, running to HK's body and cradling the model in his arms, running awkwardly to the loading ramp. Cere was there to meet him.

"Cal!" she greeted, but he took no time for it.

"Take this inside," Cal handed off to her. "I'll explain later."

"What the hell is that?" Greez asked, appearing from the cockpit. "Just set it on the floor. We need to get out of here."

"Wait!" Cal insisted, his eyes turning back to Trilla and Blaze, who were preoccupied at the moment. "We can't just leave her."

Cere's anxiety sparked in the Force. "Cal…"

"I saw it, Cere," he presented her blade, still held tightly in his hand. "I saw what you both went through…we have to help her."

Greez raised two of his arms to get Cal's attention. "Kid, your zabrak friend is gone…taken by someone we couldn't identify. We don't have time to-."

Cal slashed his hand through the air, not caring at all for the man who had left him for dead. "I can help her, and I will!" he silenced them both, and marched down the ramp…with Cere in tow.

"Just hold this there," Blaze pointed, and Trilla complied, pressing a towel soaked in bacta against her blaster hit. She could feel herself slipping regardless, her senses dulling as her body began to process her last moments. No healing could save her now, and she was content with that.

Her lieutenant commander rose to his feet as others approached, and her hearing faded in and out as her vision began to dissipate. Despite being at her last moments, her vision focused just enough on a humanoid blur…approaching her.

Cere.

Trilla's rage exploded.

She screamed, jumping to her feet and extending her arm towards the sky…unleashing the power with her.

All three living beings, Cal, Cere and Blaze fell to their knees, feeling their life force sucked from their very essence and into Trilla…who had lost all control.

"DeathField," Cere recognized, unable to rise. Trilla Suduri, the last living practitioner of the force healing technique, had finally cracked, her unique power corrupted into the most barbaric form.

This was the cost of all her mistakes…her gifted Padawan turned to a weapon right before her eyes.

Trilla's wound sealed, and she felt herself breathe easy again. She…she was going to live.

"Trilla…no!" Blaze gasped and dropped to the ground.

Her eyes widened.

Cal took that moment to unleash a force push, knocking Trilla to the ground and ending her onslaught, giving him and Cere a chance to run for the Mantis.

Trilla regained her senses again as the ship took off, leaving her alone with the dead. She rose to her feet…and saw Blaze, sprawled out on the durasteel ground.

He coughed, and she fell to her knees, propping up his head in her arms. "Trilla Suduri…it has been an…honor…"

"No," she shook her head, emotions running raw at the sight of him. "No, I'm not relinquishing your service yet."

"Sorry…ma'am," he apologized, and her eyes widened as she felt his breathing slow. "I always knew this job was a…one-way…"

Blaze's eyes glossed over…lifeless.

"No," Trilla denied, shaking her head. His wounds hadn't even sung to her…not even the muffled gag she had experienced with Effa. "No," she repeated, shaking his body. "No, no, no, no!"

Tears filled her eyes, and she let them rain over his body.


That…was intense.

I really have no words. Not even I expected all this.

I hope you're enjoying this story…because it's becoming an absolute blast to write.

Thanks for reading. Who the fuck knows what'll happen next.