CHAPTER 13

Power Trip

"It is such a quiet thing…to fall…but far more terrible is to admit it."

Krayiss II, 14 BBY

Badlands

"It's a fuckin' Jedi! Light 'er up!"

Blaster bolts surged through the air like a tidal wave as the entire group of scavengers opened fire upon Trilla Suduri, the Emperor's Wrath. Her matte-colored hilt was ignited on both ends, the blades twirling through the air with a brilliant precision as all bolts that converged upon her were deflected away. Advancing towards the group of four, she deftly spun her body and reached out, gripping each of the covered beings of various races in sheer agony as their own life force was ripped from them, their screams only temporary as they all dropped dead before her.

Trilla relished in the energy that flooded her essence, and with no wounds to heal, she converted it to raw power, enhancing her abilities to nearly double her natural affinity. Some scavengers took off and ran, while others grit their teeth in anger, firing with rage-filled screams to avenge their fallen comrades.

"Kill that bitch! Kil-," he was cut off with a wave of her hand, pulling him with a brutal ferocity that fractured his bones in her crushing grip, until she silenced him with her blade through his heart as he rocketed towards her. Zipping through the physical plane, Trilla fazed back into existence in front of another assailant, driving the end of her deactivated hilt into his chest. The force of her attack broke a few ribs as she slammed his back into the ground, whilst spinning her ignited blade over his neck to end his life.

The rest didn't stand a chance.

Leaving behind a trail of bodies as she progressed through the rocky landscape, Trilla allowed the hum of her purple blade to be the only sound left on this forsaken planet…aside from the servos of Rava rolling beside her. It was admittedly…comedic to watch the little ball roll around, especially with how intelligent she was, and yes, she was a she.

"Your reaction time has improved, Wrath," Rava noted, using a spring mechanism to jump over spiking rocks that Trilla merely stepped over. "Although your deflection was somewhat less than perfect."

Trilla scoffed. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean the smoldering blast that ripped through your abdomen."

She was dumbfounded, stopping her march to look down at her suit…and sure enough there was a residual hole in her clothing. However, there was no wound, which must've meant it happened while she simultaneously healed herself with her Death Field.

"Oh…fuck me…" she grumbled, more annoyed that her suit had a gaping hole in it. "I didn't even feel that one."

Rava stopped and angled her optics in line with Trilla's gaze. "Interesting. An untreated wound like that would've killed you in short time. Your tolerance for pain is impressive…for a human."

As it should be.

Trilla didn't want to dwell on the memories her comment brought forth, and with a turn and flap of her cape, she continued to traverse the landscape, probing the Force for her quarry. From what the Emperor had told her about this assignment, this planet was in the middle of what used to be Sith Space, their ancient birthplace. Krayiss II was a planet that was among their original seat of their empire, but Trilla couldn't see any current value in it, hence why there was no Imperial presence.

What was here however was a relic the Emperor had hidden during the height of the Republic, and rumors enough seemed to draw in scavengers vying for it. Judging by what Trilla had left behind, she suggested that they pack up and leave, one of her subtasks that came along with this mission.

It was like a pinging waypoint in the Force, which made following its path easy enough for her. What it was or why it was important were questions she was sure would be answered when the time was right.

After a few miles of travel, Trilla could hear the object's whispers rise in volume, and sure enough, the stone chest that the Emperor described was there…hidden in plain sight beside an array of pointed stones. Rava rolled forward and activated her scanning array while Trilla approached it, letting her gloved hand run across the top. To the naked eye, blind to the Force, no one would ever think such an object would contain anything at all.

"Such a curious means of deception," Rava noted, ending her scan. "I am not detecting anything within on normal scanning methods…however my carbon dating mechanisms detect something much younger inside this…rock."

"Then this is it," Trilla confirmed, placing her hand over the slight engraving in the center of the stone. Focusing her thoughts, she opened herself to her emotions, letting her anger encompass her every connection to the Force. Her upper lip trembled as her hand tightened, and with all her might, she unleashed that rage with a short burst of lightning from her fingertips.

Pain ripped through her arm as she grabbed ahold of her searing hand, grimacing through it until it finally ebbed away, while the top of the stone unlocked, revealing that it was indeed closed via a lid. Shaking off the residual discomfort, Trilla pushed the lid free, letting the stone slide onto the ground, with a crash.

Inside was her prize: a pyramid-shaped device that whispered to her very soul as her hand approached it. As she lifted it from its place, she felt the Dark Side of the Force strengthen within her.

"It…it's incredible," Trilla smiled, letting her free hand glide over its features.

"That, Wrath, is a wayfinder," Rava answered, drawing her attention. "To where…that remains to be seen."

Trilla chuckled to herself. "Then let's find out, shall we?"


Unnamed Shuttle, 14 BBY

Sith Space

Xur landed the striking mark on Trilla's ribs as she twirled out of control, his strike emitting blinding sparks of light as his blade cascaded through hers. She screamed in agony as she dropped her circular hilt, falling to her knees in defeat. Her hand fell to her fresh wound, and she only looked up to him with fading rage as the reality of his victory set in for the both of them.

With a tap of his hilt, he extinguished his blade, letting breaths of calm guide his rising emotions away.

Trilla rocked back and forth as she fought off the pain, her other hand supporting her as she struggled to stay upright. "Why…why can't I beat you?!"

Xur sheathed his hilt. "You don't have to Trilla…don't you get it? It's over."

She bared her teeth, her anger present in her expression. "Nothing is ever truly over."

"I'm not going to fight you anymore!" Xur protested, swiping his hand through the air. "Stand up for yourself, dammit! Fight back!"

"And what? Be like you?" she shook her head. "I can't!"

"I don't want you to be like me," he eased, taking a knee to meet her gaze. "You can be better than me…you always were…sometimes even now."

Trilla's harsh expression faded, but he watched her force herself to maintain it, looking away. "It's too late, Xur."

The zabrak felt it in that moment, the precipice of earning her back in his life once again, and he inched forward, grasping her shoulders. "Look at me," he nigh begged, her face shrouded by her hair as she looked away. "Trilla…please…I let you down…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought I could live without you…but I was wrong."

She didn't look back, but he heard a slight whimper, followed by a sniffle.

When she did finally turn…the cold set in.

"And that…is why you fail," she growled, her voice that of a mechanized demon, before her broken body morphed into the dark terror that was Darth Vader.

Xur rose to his feet, his blade ignited. "You…"

"You cannot protect her, Eon," Vader growled, stepping forward as a circle of fire surrounded him. "She is mine, and in turn, you…will be broken."

"Why won't you die?!" Xur screamed, raising his hands to stave off the growing flames that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Because you failed to kill me when you had the chance," Vader retorted, reaching his hand out to intensify the flames. "Because you're too weak to protect her from me."

Xur roared. "I hate you…SKYWALKER!"

Xur's eyelids ripped themselves open as his nightmare ended, and he found himself in a smaller bed this go around. Immediately he recognized it as a small cabin aboard a spacecraft…but he couldn't remember how he got here.

He didn't care, his hands covered his eyes before he allowed tears to fall again. While he knew these nightmares weren't real, they were progressively getting worse the longer he was training with his mother. Starting off as blissful dreams of he and Trilla together, they were slowly spiraling downwards into nightmares of either she killing him, or he killing her…but this was the first with…him.

Xur clenched his fists. He hated him with an intensity that he could never describe. Knowing who that masked man really was made it all the worse…and knowing what he had done fueled Xur with enough rage to never need a restock. The mere thought of Anakin Skywalker was plenty to sear his eyes yellow and unlock the Dark Side within him.

No…no, this isn't right.

Maybe it wasn't, but he was beginning to understand why Trilla had become what she was…and he could imagine her hatred for Cere was very similar to what he currently experienced. If he was beginning to lose his mind, then she had to be on the precipice of sheer and utter madness

I need to find her.

Picking himself up from the bed and readjusting his robes, he called the Second Brother's hilt to his hand and clipped it to his belt. Exiting the cabin, he found himself in a narrow hallway, and besides the cold giving it away, the working of the engines told him they were traveling. Down the hallway was the cockpit, and sure enough, exactly who he guessed was sitting in the pilot's chair.

"Ah, you're awake," his mother greeted, turning in her chair as the ship barreled through hyperspace.

"Mother," he said, taking the co-pilot's seat as she watched him. "How long was I out this time?"

"36 hours," she answered. "Any dreams?"

Xur grumbled, not wanting to speak about it. "Yes, of course."

"And?"

He huffed, knowing she'd just pester him until he confessed. "This time I beat her, instead of killing her…then Vader showed up…and none of it mattered."

"That was what I was afraid of," she noted. "Your past with Skywalker was bound to catch up to you eventually…and I fear you may not be ready to face him when the time comes."

"Hey, one thing at a time here. We deal with Trilla, then we can start talking about Vader."

"Those confrontations are one in the same, Xur," she warned, turning back towards the viewport. "She belongs to him, no matter what she may call herself now…they all do."

Xur growled to himself, just remembering everything about what he had done to her, and he could feel the man's neck in his hand as he squeezed. He tried imagining his burning and severed body on Mustafar, just as Obi-Wan had described it, but it gave him no satisfaction knowing that he survived that ordeal.

"I'm going to kill him."

Valeria remained emotionless…until a small smile crept up her lip. "Good…then we didn't come here for nothing."

Xur narrowed his eyes. "I was gonna…get to that. Where are we going?"

She reached above and pulled back the hyperspace lever. "We…are going home."

When the hyperspace tunnel morphed from lines to dots in space, before them was the brown and red dust ball that Xur was all-too familiar with. "Korriban? Why?"

"If you wish to beat back the darkness within Suduri…then you must learn to control the darkness within you."


Fury, 14 BBY

Leaving Krayiss II

"How does this bloody thing work?" Trilla complained, looking at the wayfinder from every angle, only to get nowhere. Rava rolled up beside her as she struggled with it in her pilot's chair, her frustration beginning to get the better of her. "Trilla Suduri, Emperor's Wrath…outsmarted by a fucking trinket."

"I wouldn't be so hard on yourself," Rava eased. "That device's complexity almost rivals my own construction."

Trilla snorted. "Almost…then how about you give it a look?"

"Of course," Rava accepted, rolling up to the central console and into a small shaft, plugging herself into the computer as she was raised up, revealing only her head. "Allow me."

Trilla set it down beside her head, albeit slightly wary when Rava took control of the ship's systems via that port, but she had proven an adept pilot with her VI processing. The brunette enjoyed piloting to a degree, but she didn't love it enough to override her common sense, knowing her "droid" was a better option.

"Intriguing…" Rava trailed off as her scan continued. "This device is…almost alive."

That explains the whispers, then.

"Its construction is outdated, which explains why it doesn't directly work with the navi-computer," Rava continued. "Yet I believe I can possibly hardwire myself to it and pilot the ship."

Trilla raised her hand in a halting command. "I'm not so sure. These Sith devices…I've heard they can be tricky."

"Trust me, Wrath. I have no intent on doing this for jest…but its technology simply cannot interact with our current instruments. It requires a translator for its data…and I can be that for you."

She narrowed her eyes. "And when you become possessed and fly us into a black hole? What do you expect me to do then?"

"Don't be daft," Rava deadpanned. "I'm almost insulted you believe such a primitive device could do such a thing. Overpower me?"

Trilla was more focused on her initial comment. "Did you call me daft?"

"Daft is an adjective, not a noun."

"I'm not playing bloody word games with you!"

"Would you prefer I called you a cunt? When angered you tend to use this phrase seventy-five percent of the-."

"Enough!" Trilla shouted, slamming her fist into the console, silencing Rava. She hadn't been this infuriated since…

Since she and Xur were stuck on that planet in the Tion Cluster.

"Would you like to inform your master that you cannot achieve your objective?" she asked. "Or would you rather allow me to risk myself? If anything goes wrong, you can always drive your blade through my head."

Trilla grumbled and looked away, trying to fight off the residual pain in her hand from her impact. She felt an overwhelming urge to do exactly as Rava entailed, ending the droid's continuous insults then and there…but…she couldn't. Only a short time had she known this droid, and she could feel a subtle attachment to her. Ever since she had been granted this overly extravagant title, she had been alone, and she never imagined she'd ever miss having someone else around, even if they were just a partner.

She missed Effa, even Blaze…but most of all…she missed…

No…I…I can't. I hate…I hate that I…

She hated that she missed them. She hated that it was hard to burn a hole in Rava's head. She hated that Xur Eon was still out there…making her care about anything.

Why won't you die?!

Because you're weak.

Trilla's eyes widened as they focused on the wayfinder, its whispers manifesting inside her head as one, singular voice.

I am not weak!

You deceive yourself foolish girl. You carry your title like some achievement, but in the end you're nothing but a slave.

This thing was alive…and she could feel it…like opposite poles of a magnet to her hand. A devious yet strained grin spread across her lips, and she swiped the object into her grip.

I'll show you strength.

"Wrath…what are you-." Rava was cut off as Trilla's hand glowed a bright purple, draining whatever life energy existed within the object…only the downpour of power never ended. Trilla felt herself enhanced exponentially as she continued the attack, relishing in the pain she wreaked upon an unfeeling object.

The onslaught suddenly ended, and Trilla dropped the dead object onto the console, falling back into her chair in euphoric bliss. She felt she could take on any being in the galaxy with this wellspring of power within her. Even the Emperor himself would beg for mercy under her grip of hunger…and the galaxy itself would fall into her grasp. With a swipe of her hand she could move stars and destroy planets…she felt invincible.

And yet she wanted more.

"Wrath…your metabolic activity has risen exponentially," Rava noted. "And you seem to be in an…intoxicated state."

"Shut up, droid," Trilla spat as her speech began to slur, her head becoming heavier by the minute. "I jus nee…"

Trilla went limp and flopped out of her chair, her body slamming onto the durasteel floor in a manner she could no longer perceive. Her vision faded away, and she felt her own spiritual self transcend beyond her corporeal form, the power she absorbed burning away at the crude matter that encased her essence.

At last…she had achieved godhood.

Electrocution zapped her form back into one, and she screamed. Her vision flashed white, and she was back in that chair, screaming endlessly until her throat no longer allowed her to, shocked numb to pain entirely, only to be relieved, healed, and forced to do it all over again.

She was jolted awake, and all that energy funneled back into the wayfinder, leaving her gasping for air and trembling in fear. Hyperventilation seized her lungs as her breaths shivered, barely getting enough air until she exhaled and inhaled again. Trilla's eyes darted around the cockpit and locked on the shock prod that Rava had brandished.

"Remain clam, Wrath," Rava urged. "You were going into cardiac arrest-."

"Get away from me!" Trilla screamed in terror, kicking Rava back with her foot as she scuttered away along the floor, as far away from that shock prod as she could. "Stay away…please!"

Rava might as well have been an interrogation droid in Trilla's bulging eyes, and as the VI shook off the attack, she tried rolling forward.

"Wrath, you are in a state of extreme distress. You are not under attack," Rava eased, trying to inch forward, revealing a needle from her compartments. "Just allow me to admini-."

"No!" Trilla bellowed, kicking her away again, and then scrambled to her feet, running across her own ship in raw terror, locking herself in her own quarters. Feeling somewhat more secure, Trilla ran to the sink and mirror, ripping off her gloves and proceeding to splash her face lividly with water. Once she got tired of that, her makeup smeared and hair soaked, she heaved over the sink and vomited whatever fluids remained in her body. Her tongue ravaged with distaste and her throat burning, she began to sob profusely.

Trilla fell to her knees as her wails echoed through the ship, her mind returned to the first time she had been relieved of that terrible chair…dropped onto the durasteel grate and dragged someplace else…injected with more drugs and put right back in.

For an eternity she had waited for him to rescue her, but she knew he wasn't coming, and the longer she clung to her love for him, the more it hurt her. All love had ever been for her was pain…endless and terrible pain.

And yet, she still felt it.

She always had.


Korriban, 14 BBY

Wastes

"Coming, Mother?" Xur asked as he hit the end of the loading ramp, taking his first steps on the dirt of the planet Korriban. Valeria had remained atop the ramp, looking down upon him with hesitant eyes.

"I can go no further," she replied. "You must walk the surface of this planet alone. There is…nothing for me here."

Xur paused. This was the first time that she had seemed genuinely afraid of something…which didn't bode well for his sake. He'd felt it before they had even landed; this place echoed of death and was the beating heart of the Dark Side itself. Never before had he ever been to a planet that threatened to consume him before he had even set foot on its surface.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked, concerned.

"The only thing you should fear is what you bring along," she warned. "You have spent your entire life surrounded by conduits of the light side of the Force…now it is time for you to face the darkness that has always existed within you…and I cannot be there to help you."

Xur grimaced, looking back towards the present landscape. On both sides there were magnificent tombs that had either long caved in or had themselves vandalized by thousands of years of erosion. Other than that, ruins of buildings that once stood above ground peaked above the dirt like broken bones.

"Do not fear…I will still watch over you," she assured. "You will not be truly alone."

The zabrak could feel it already…something out there was calling to him. Every wind blow was followed by dark whispers or deep howls that rattled his bones, but he clenched his fist and fought through it. Darkness had never been his fear, and it would not begin now.

"I'll be back," Xur tipped his head, and paced away from the ship, probing the landscape around him. It seemed abandoned, but what he felt told a very different story. Distant screams could still be heard within the Force itself, echoing endlessly around him. Doing his best to locate the call, he focused his senses singularly…feeling the history of this terrible place resonate within.

After making a fair bit of progress away from the ship, he came to the first caved-in entrance to an old tomb.

That is the tomb of Ajunta Pall, the first Dark Lord of the Sith.

Xur wasn't caught off guard by his mother's voice in his head this time around, but it still rattled him enough. "The first? How long ago was that?"

Many millennia ago. Do not become distracted. This is not your destination.

"Good to hear you sound like a mother every now and then."

Save your wit as well.

Xur heeded that…he felt he needed to watch for any spectres that may try to sneak up and murder him from behind. "Any idea where I'm headed?"

I can only see what you see. The Dark Side clouds much of my vision here.

Xur scoffed. "And here I thought you were some Sith Lord in disguise."

The Dark Side clouds everyone, even the Sith themselves. Arrogance, pride, overconfidence…these are all byproducts of the Dark Side of the Force, and they are the Sith's greatest weakness.

"Would've been nice to know that…a little earlier," Xur deadpanned as he stepped over a fallen pillar that hadn't fully succumbed to the elements. "Might've saved us a lot of grief."

You refer to the Jedi?

"Yes, I refer to the Jedi."

She chuckled in condescension in his head. The Jedi could've never prevented their dark fate. Even the bearer of that holocron, Eno Cordova, knew this. They had been outmatched in every aspect, not aware of their darkest threat until it was right on top of them.

That reminded Xur. "You're probably right. Do you still have that Astrium?"

Yes, of course. No, you cannot have it.

Xur snorted. "Suit yourself, stingy."

He couldn't see it…but in his mind he pictured his mother smiling at his comment, and she eventually giggled somewhat. You're funny.

The zabrak shrugged as he walked, coming out of the valley of tombs. "So…"

No.

"Fine."

The valley condensed into a single passage through stone cliffs that towered above, and Xur deducted that this had to have been carved out by man, not a work of nature. Where it led was a mystery, as it ended abruptly soon enough.

"Dead end, except for this cave entrance," Xur noted, feeling a deep echo within the cavern beside him. "And yet…"

He could feel it. This cave was the place.

I am sensing a strong amount of energy within this cave. This is where you must walk…however…I am unsure I will be able to maintain our connection as you make your journey.

Xur smirked. "Too much even for you?"

So it would seem.

"Don't worry so much," he eased. "I can take care of myself."

That isn't what concerns me. Remember my initial words.

He hadn't forgotten…since she'd only mentioned them a short time ago…but the gravity of them held true. During his Jedi training he had been told similar things, especially when walking through places very strong in the Force. The age old "you find only what you take with you" speech, but of course his mother had her own spin to it. Nevertheless, the premise was the same, and he was ready to face his fears.

Fighting through the growing web of the Dark Side within, he took his first steps.


Fury, 14 BBY

Adrift

"Look at yourself."

Trilla breathed, not even bothering to wipe her tear-stricken face any longer as she remained curled in the fetal position. Her eyes remained trained on the floor to ceiling mirror before her…looking at her own reflection.

"Go away," she whined.

"The great and powerful Emperor's Wrath. How long have you bared this title? Five minutes?"

"Fuck…off."

"All this talk of being fearless and invincible…then a little droid shocks you and you're screaming and crying on your floor."

Trilla bared her teeth at the reflection that wasn't following her movements, taunting her in her own body. "You're just a…hallucination."

"Am I? Then why do you continue to permit me to live? You could've killed me years ago, and yet here I am."

Now her reflection was her in her Jedi robes, much less makeup and beautiful black hair that stopped at her shoulders. Trilla shook her head, trying to focus her vision and clear the falsehood away, but it only made the image that much more vivid.

"I think I know why."

Trilla surrendered, letting the side of her face plant itself on the carpet. "Why?"

"Because…all this time…ever since you slipped on that mask…that one part of me within you remained; the only one that matters."

"Oh?" Trilla mocked. "And what's that?"

Her Jedi form picked herself up and leaned up to the mirror. "You still love him."

Trilla's eyes widened, emerald fires blazing yellow at the mere mention of him. "I…do…not!" she growled.

"Oh? Defensive, are you?" her reflection taunted. "When faced with the choice to destroy or protect me, you chose to spare my life…and unless you can convince me otherwise…"

Trilla winced and began to crush her own head with her palms, trying to silence the voice from speaking any further. "Shut up!"

"When you lie in bed, do you imagine him screwing that togruta? Do you imagine him growing with beautiful children while you wither away into nothing?"

She covered her ears, rocking on the floor like a rabid animal. "I imagine him dead at my feet!"

"Liar! I know you better than you know yourself!"

Trilla clenched her fists with enough force to threaten breaking her own fingers. "I am the Emperor's Wrath! I'm beyond what he could possibly imagine!"

"You're the Emperor's Slave, pathetic vermin. A fancy new title can't save you from what you've really become. When Xur Eon is dead, what will you be then? Maybe he'll make you his personal maiden… or perhaps…" her other self giggled. "…he'll make you bed with him."

"No…" Trilla seethed. "He wouldn't waste my power."

"Ha! Stupid, stupid girl! You belong to him. Your power is his power."

Trilla finally vaulted to her feet, confronting the spectre in the mirror. "My power is my own!"

"You're not even your own! Look at you! Shouting at a bloody mirror!" her reflection laughed almost hysterically. "I know your every thought, and the day you tried to kill me, is the day you lost the right to your own individual self."

Trilla's knuckles cracked.

"You're a puppet. Lord Vader's little personal whore."

The Force itself roared as Trilla's fist slammed into the mirror, cracks stretching across its surface in an instant. Her fist remained planted in the dent she created, breathing heavily as the ghost of herself finally faded away. Through those cracks, she saw her face, and that's when she knew her imbalance had fully manifested.

It was time for Xur Eon to die.


Dathomir, 14 BBY

Highlands

Wrapped up in them, he felt it…the ecstasy…the passion. No feeling ever surpassed this, and his body felt as if it would burst…melting within the partner beside him.

His lips on her neck, her pleasure that came with it. It was so…amazing.

He looked up to their face…and saw BD-1's rectangular head.

"Gah!" Cal shrieked in terror as he suddenly awoke to the trills of his droid poking at his head. BD jumped back to avoid the Jedi's errant swats, cocking his head as Cal returned to the physical world.

What the hell was that?

Cal rubbed his eyes clear, allowing his eyelids to blink enough for his vision to focus, and then finally turned his attention to his droid companion. "I'm awake BD, I'm awake."

Do-do-doop?

"A nightmare? No…not this time," Cal answered, which was a nice change of pace. Most of his dreams ended with him either being eaten alive or an inquisitor bisecting him at his waist, so to experience a vision without as much pain…in fact with no pain…was refreshing.

But…what was that? And who was that woman?

Oh…but whatever it was, it felt incredible. The pleasures of the Force paled in comparison to being wrapped up with another woman, his legs locked with hers as they linked together, experiencing a feeling so powerful…

Oh no.

This was…attachment wasn't it? No, it wasn't the first time Cal looked at a woman and felt his heart beat a little faster, although having to experience puberty as a scrapper certainly had its drawbacks. Jedi were supposed to ignore these feelings, and he had thus far, but he felt all that control spiral away after what happened on Bracca. Sure, when Trilla took off her mask, he was slightly aroused, but that was placated by the fact that she was trying to kill him.

But this nightsister…

No no no no no, stop it. You're going crazy.

It must be the planet. This place gave him the creeps, and the longer he stayed, the more he felt it corrupting his thoughts. Attachment leads to jealousy, thus, to anger, hate, suffering, the whole motto, and Cal hadn't forgotten it. He'd seen it firsthand at another's expense, someone he looked up to. Before he had judged Xur for his attachment to Trilla, and subsequent seemingly self-destructive urge to win her back, but now he knew how powerful lust could be. The idea of having that woman you admire with you…merely linking hands together…it was powerful.

He needed to get his mind off it, as each of his draw-back thoughts spiraled back down that path of attachment. Cal was a Jedi, and he needed to start acting like it.

But the Jedi were gone…

Stop it.

BD finally became concerned enough to tap him with one of his legs, like a pet pawing its owner when it wanted attention. Cal smirked and patted the droid's head. "Thanks buddy. Guess we better get moving, huh?"

The droid beeped in a deadpan manner.

"Right, right. I know you've been trying to tell me. Sorry."

Deet-deet.

As Cal packed whatever belongings he had removed from his belt, and BD clambered back aboard him, he set off through the wilds of Dathomir, once again feeling no closer to his destination than he had before. He had maintained GPS tracking so he could return to the Mantis at any time, but he felt the need to keep looking, and to return would be ultimately counterproductive. Sure, it was a sunk cost fallacy, but Cal wasn't in the mood to care about such a thing as of now. There was simply too much at stake now, as the lives of all those children on that list depended on his success.

After what felt like another hour of aimless walking, Cal frustratingly swiped his hand through the air and stopped. "We're walking in circles, BD."

Deet-deet boop.

"Yeah, I know it's obvious!" Cal snapped. "And yet here we are!"

BD trilled a high-pitch warning.

"What do you mean incoming?"

A fierce snarl rattled Cal's spine as he barely rolled away from the pouncing nydak as it barreled towards him. With its miss, the fierce creature dug its massive claws into the ground to slow its skid, turning back to the stunned Jedi brandishing his blue blade.

"What the hell is this thing?!" Cal asked while BD hung on for dear life. The nydak bared its teeth and swiped its powerful arms through the air, lethal claws almost grazing Cal's skin as he ducked underneath. What he didn't account for was the second claw, and those ripped through his calf like a knife through meat. Screaming in pain and collapsing to one knee, Cal raised his blade in a desperate defense, before thinking better of it and pushing the creature away with all his might.

"BD, I need help!" he begged, calling for a stim, only to hear him whine that they were fresh out. "Gah! My leg!"

Blood covered his hand as he touched it, and it was nigh-impossible for him to stand or put on any weight…and the nydak was just rising back on its own legs. Desperately, Cal reached out and slowed its advance as best he could, buying him time to think of something before the creature tore him to shreds. BD tried pushing him along with his small body, but Cal could only crawl away as best he could, and the nydak would surely have him soon enough.

A green light nearly blinded him as the nydak disappeared from view, enveloped in that same energy he had seen before, and when that light faded, the beast was gone. Cal could no longer even sense it in the Force, but in the beast's place was Merrin, her glowing eyes fading back to her brown irises.

With the threat gone, Cal's adrenaline faded, his pain truly became apparent. Blood was pooling under his leg, and BD tried his best to do something, but could only watch with no stims remaining.

"Hold still, Cal Kestis," he heard Merrin insist as he writhed, trying his best to heed her command, but finding it extremely difficult with the intense pain.

"What are you-," Cal began, but was silenced by the sudden disappearance of his suffering…replaced by a soothing sensation where his wound was. "Oh…"

Merrin had her hands suspended over his leg as she recited words in a language he could not understand. Slowly, his pain ebbed away, and he felt his leg pull itself back together. Her green magik did its best to heal what it could, but eventually Merrin pulled away. Cal looked down, and was once his exposed, bleeding muscle, was now just scar tissue.

"I am sorry. Since you are not a nightbrother, I did what I could," she apologized. "Your body…fought my efforts to heal it."

Cal shook his head, running his hand over his calf in awe. "Don't apologize…I would be in much worse shape if you hadn't shown up. How'd…how'd you do that?"

Merrin seemed hesitant to answer, and he sensed it was that distrust that she still clung to about the Jedi. "Our magik can achieve unnatural feats, although you were foolish to venture into nydak territory."

"Yeah…don't need to tell me twice," Cal nodded, trying to stand, but found his leg could not support his weight yet.

Merrin simply looked on with a guarded pose. "You must allow it time before you walk again. As I said, your body would not accept my commands."

He accepted that wrinkle, as it was better than bleeding out…and then he dared to ask the next pressing question.

"Why'd you help me?"

Merrin placed her gaze upon him, seemingly probing his thoughts once again. "Your pained screams were repulsive, so I intervened to make them cease."

Cal chuckled, not sure he should, but tried to entice a joking environment. "Ah, well, thanks anyway," he said, only to nervously rub the back of his neck when her gaze did not falter. "Have you…um…thought about our last conversation?" Slight excitement was laced at the back end of his sentence, and he grimaced with embarrassment.

"You mean whether or not to help you?" her brow raised, seemingly unaware of it. "I fail to see why I should."

Cal leaned up, only to feel his leg protest again, returning back to his slouched position. "But the Empire…"

"Hasn't come yet," Merrin answered. "We live in the shadows, Cal Kestis. They will not find us here."

"I told myself that for a long time, Merrin," Cal warned. "I used to scrap starships in the outer rim, away from everything, and the Empire was able to pick me out of the crowd."

She scoffed. "Your skills of deception obviously pale in comparison to mine."

"Trust me, whatever you can do, they can do better," he then pointed to his leg. "What you just did, they have someone who can heal that perfectly…erase whole wounds…or do the reverse…and drain the life force right out of you."

Merrin paused, her head slanting downwards in intrigue. "You speak as if you have experienced this."

Cal wasn't sure if he should get into it, but he felt the need to convince her more powerful than ever, and he was running out of time.

"A…friend of mine lost someone he cared about to the Empire. They captured her…and turned her into something terrible, perverting her gifts into weapons, twisting her personality. She's the one who found me on Bracca," he explained, then forced himself to sit up. "If they find you, Merrin, they'll do the same, but I promise you, I'm done letting the Empire hurt people."

The nightsister looked away, and Cal watched her upper lip twitch. "This Empire…are they the same people who massacred my sisters?"

Cal nodded with finality. "The Separatists were controlled by the Sith," he mentioned, calling back to the sporadic battle droid remains he had spotted in his travels through Dathomir. "The Empire is also controlled by the Sith. I don't know who was responsible for killing your people…but I know this…they have the same masters."

Her face went despondent, eyes glazed over in reverie. "I…I was only a child when they attacked. An armored warrior brandishing that," she pointed to his hilt. "Descended upon us and slaughtered my sisters. Since…I have lived alone…with the dead."

In a moment of instinct, he reached for her hand, but her gaze made him think otherwise, and he backed down. "Trust me…Merrin. I know what it's like to lose everything. What happened to your people…there is nothing I can say that can heal that…but we don't have to be enemies."

She mulled his words for a moment, and Cal worried that his physical gesture had gone too far. He sensed great turmoil within her, as if she was taking a risk she never expected, but in the end, she looked his way once again, rising to her feet.

"Come then, Cal Kestis. Let us find this Astrium."


6000 views, and this is now my most favorited and followed story I've ever written.

Thanks y'all. Couldn't do this without your support.

I have spoken.