AN: Sorry for the massive delay in updates. just a heads up, updates will be irregular from this point on, though I do still plan on finishing this series.

.***.***.***.

Cal stepped out of the shuttle to find a broken town.

Speeders stopped in the street, most buildings had their doors pried wide open. Gaggles of towns folk sat facing walls, hands either cuffed behind their backs or held against their head, most had a hopeless slump to their shoulders. Largely silent, there came the occasional shout or crackling sob from the streets. None of them happened close enough for Cal to see.

He did see stormtroopers standing guard over their prisoners; plainclothes folk ripped from their homes or market stalls. Scattered hints of destruction lined the road; deep burn marks from blaster-fire, some of it from heavy weapons that Cal was sure the town didn't have; a mound of the dead, some troopers but mostly citizens, had begun to form near the city center.

Not having long to take it in, Cal was quickly approached by a colonel.

"Sir," the woman walked with a carefully practiced stiffness, "you've arrived ahead of schedule."

A team of troopers lead a train of prisoners across the road just at the edge of view.

Cal watched them disappear around a corner before looking back to the colonel, "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," she corrected herself, "It's just that we've yet to secure the city."

Looking once again at the shell of a town, Cal rested a hand on his saber, "I think I'll be fine."

Trying to hide a glance past the Fourth Brother, the colonel offered a simple, "yes, sir."

Distantly remembering the rest of the people he'd had on the shuttle, Cal looked over his shoulder and to his own troopers as well as the prisoners they'd just freed. "Hey, guys. Why don't you stay with the ship for a while? If any of colonel… uh."

"Colonel Bleen," the woman offered.

"If any of Colonel Bleen's people tell you to go somewhere else, listen to them. But stay put for now." Seeing and sensing a wave of relief roll over the troopers, Cal almost felt bad as he went on, "Jorge, you can come with me. Uh, you too Manse, I guess."

Deciding that the half-secured town was a better place to follow Cal than a jungle or a hostile factory, Jorge tried to tell himself that he didn't mind as he uttered a, "yes, sir."

Manse, on the other hand, had decided that he was going to venture into the town regardless of whether the Inquisitor had remembered to invite him along, "Much appreciated, Fourth Brother. Colonel Bleen, I do have a question for you."

Certain that the Inquisitor outranked the ISB in this situation, Bleen glanced at Cal in search for a clue as to what to do. Finding neither a hint of distain nor a silent look of permission, she carefully spoke back to Manse, "Go on, agent."

Seeing and also wanting to test the power dynamic, Manse watched Cal for a reaction as he noted, "Perhaps I'm mistaken, but it doesn't seem that this town has any power turned on. Why is that?"

Cal felt and was already tired of the other two's over-formal testing and carefully trying not to offend him, "You two can just say things, you don't need to beat around the bush. But I do also want to know. Why is the power down?" he hadn't seen any smoke when they landed, it seemed unlikely that the power grid had been hit during the assault.

Knowing better than to truly drop her guard, even when it was demanded, Bleen nevertheless gave a more honest answer, "In effort to stall any rebel attempts at communication or coordination, we cut all power to the town."

Though silent, Jorge was no fool, So, what you're really saying is that you have no idea where that long range communicator is.

Catching a sharp sense of annoyance from Jorge, Cal thought he was being helpful as he said, "You got thoughts on this one, Jorge?"

Immediately seeing a daggerlike glare from Colonel Bleen and all but feeling a look that could mean any number of dangerous things from Agent Manse, Jorge carefully replied, "I'm just wondering about the long-range communicator, sir."

"You're not meant wonder, sargent." Bleen sharply told him before casting a more neutral look to the Inquisitor, "the troopers are locating the long-range communicator as we speak, sir. Cutting power to the town is simply a precaution."

"Whatever you say colonel," Cal began, watching as the streets became more crowded with prisoners by the moment. Taking an almost calm breath, Cal tried to get a sense for the city, but a constant drone of fear was all he found, "Hey colonel."

She didn't flinch.

Cal wasn't sure what to make of that, but went on regardless, "Have you seen a lady with a scar on her head? Left side, horizontal straight line over her ear?" he gestured as he spoke, narrowly avoiding brushing against BD.

"No, sir."

"Hmm…" Cal dropped his hand back to his side, trying to decide if that were a good thing or bad, Did she run, or was she not even here at the start?

Shifting his weight form one foot to another Cal tried to game the situation out, Back on Bracca, I definitely would have hid. But on Kashyyyk, I would have fought.

Scenes from the processing plant's control room twirled around Cal. A defiant smirk, confidant destruction. She seemed genuine friends with at least one of the rebels.

I don't think this is her Bracca.

And don't forget that Saw is here. For as much rage as the rebel's mention had inspired, Cal had almost forgotten about the man, Causing problems for no good reason… Disrupting food shipments to Coruscant, really? That's why he's making these people's lives a living hell?

Cal looked at the semi-organized shuffle of prisoner townsfolk.

It doesn't have to be like this. If they just listened, it wouldn't be like this.

Some of the people had clearly been rounded up from the market square, their satchels filled with produce. Some of them carried bottles of local wine. They all looked away when they noticed Cal's unnerving stare.

"Continue the search for that communicator," Manse's voice seemed distant, "In a town like this I suspect the rebels would have built their safehouse underground."

A pause came, with Colonel Bleen waiting for the Fourth Brother to give his comment.

But Cal didn't, too busy watching the prisoners.

Moving in an uneasy shuffle, the crowed was a mixture of local gurlanins and recent immigrants. Some weequay, some human, all of them held a heavy dread at the imperial occupation of their city.

But some of them were angry.

Angry in the way that only the truly defiant could be. A primal thing that spurred one on to fight, to sacrifice and struggle against impossible odds, to defend and die for an ideal, no matter how hopeless it may be.

Cal had tried to ignore such things on Kashyyyk, they were not the Jedi way.

But he felt them there, different than the way he felt them here. A twisted reminder of his own loathing for the life he'd left behind, Cal took a step toward the crowed.

Completely unaware of what had spurred the Inquisitor forward, Manse and the colonel watched him in confusion. Jorge had no better idea of what might happen, but he held his blaster across his chest, ready for some shocking and sudden act of violence.

"Hey, trooper! Stop for a second." Cal called out to the man leading the line from the market.

Doing as he was told, the stormtrooper let the Inquisitor approach.

Looking more closely now at the townsfolk, Cal found a few hints of injury among them. Mostly superficial, they didn't give Cal much reason for concern. He wasn't interested in the fear and dread that rolled off the people either, with most of them dropping their gaze as his own passed over them.

A few did manage to look back, a tiny spark of rebellion in their eyes.

Cal didn't mind them. Desperate, and obvious in their desires, he was sure that Agent Manse or the regular army would deal with them eventually.

What Cal searched for were the people who looked away a fraction too quickly. Carefully faking a broken appearance, but still simmering. Those better at hiding that would eventually grow into something deeply dangerous.

Despite the perfectly sunny day, a distant memory of a mud slicked platform off the side of his old train home tore at the edge of Cal's mind.

He crushed that thought down.

And then he thought he recognized a woman who looked away slightly more quickly than the others.

Not Jenussa, not even imbued with the Force as far as Cal could tell, they seemed familiar.

"What's your name?" Cal asked the lady.

She said nothing.

A pair of footsteps approached. Cal ignored them as much as he ignored an uneasy whirring of BD's hip rotors that came from the droid nervously shifting back and forth between his shoulders.

Waiting for her to respond, but knowing better than to think she would, Cal asked again, "yeah, you. What's your name?"

In some ways, Cal knew the question was an odd attempt at politeness; he was sure he'd seen the woman before; Standing in the factory he'd just destroyed, next to and seemingly a dear friend of the delinquent Jedi knight. How different she looked without an amused grin and a calm defiance was almost impressive.

Completely dropping his first question, Cal didn't think it odd as he swerved to the next, "Where's Jenussa? Did she leave you here, or is this a temporary split?"

Well-practiced at playing deaf and dumb, the woman made a convincing show of stuttering out a defeated, "I-I…. I don't…"

Cal recognized the misguided attempt at loyalty "Temporary, then. As far as you know."

The rebel had heard tales of how encounters with an Inquisitor usually ended.

She didn't plan on dying today.

Looking over his shoulder for a split second, Cal moved to beckon Jorge and Manse closer.

Taking her chances, the rebel made a mad dash past the Inquisitor. Moving too fast to bother thinking of what she was doing, the rebel was half way across the street before a series of shouting came from the imperials.

Running along irregular zig-zags, the rebel occasionally hoped or stepped to the side, deftly but narrowly avoiding blaster shots to her feet. Frantic and sharply aware that her luck might end in an instant, she grew more frantic by the step as she neared an alley; a faint hope of escape if she could break the imperial's line of sight.

Heart thundering, chest aching with frantic breaths, and wrists raw against the cuffs, she was only a step away.

And then she froze.

Something invisible – impossible – gripped every inch of her skin and sent an almost electric current through her body. If she hadn't spent the last few years in the company of a Jedi she would have thought it some technical terror, some sort of localized and terrestrial tractor beam that a raging Imperial scientists had somehow created.

But she knew better.

And she wasn't surprised when the Inquisitor appeared in front of her.

Tired, a little disappointed, he almost looked sorry for her.

But that didn't stop him from taking a step back and idly watching as a stormtrooper appeared with a set of chains to fasten around the rebel's feet. A second after the heavy metal things were in place, the rebel suddenly felt herself go limp, the invisible grip of the Force suddenly snapping away.

Catching herself under, the rebel also found the same trooper roughly gripping her arm. Knowing it would do nothing, she gave him a rough tug.

Cal said nothing as he watched Jorge struggle to hold onto the writhing rebel. The weight of many eyes in the street began to press down on him, the ambient fear in the town coalescing into something pointed and focused on him. A dark blot among stucco buildings and white clad troopers, Cal couldn't help but wonder what the people saw when they looked at him.

I must seem like just another Imp to them. Cal looked at the group of prisoners the rebel had just run from, they all cowered down, any hint of defiance among them gone, Or… maybe not just another Imp.

The rebel began to let up in her struggle.

It doesn't have to be this way. None of this has to happen.

Cal looked to the trapped rebel, "It'll be better for you if you stop struggling."

She spat at him.

The glob landed harmlessly on the ground, just as ugly yet futile as the rest of the rebellion.

By then, Manse had appeared, seemingly unflustered by the whole scene, "An interesting turn of events. They don't usually try to run unless they think they have something to hide."

Cal knew the man was prying, he didn't have time to bother with talking around the situation, "This is one of the rebels that was with Jenussa when she sabotaged the factory."

Sure that the same otherworldly intuition that had revealed Jennusa's current appearance to the Forth Brother had also lead him to identify the rebel, Manse considered asking for some explanation or even a description of the odd ability.

But the moment for that was interrupted by a mutter from the rebel, "Save yourself the time and just kill me. I'm not talking."

"Hmm…" Manse looked at the woman without missing a beat, "not talking, yet."

That last word was a threat, and they all knew it.