AN: Updates will be unpredictable from here out, sorry
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Cal and Jorge stood in a dimly lit hallway of the town's only inn.
Despite being turned into the de facto headquarters for the imperial occupation, the building as quiet, nearly abandoned with most of the troopers and officers still searching the city for a rebel hide out. The lack of power added to the place's abandoned feel, with the only light in the hall coming from weak streams of the afternoon sun that managed to filter into the guest rooms and then through their pried open doors.
A few muffled sounds came from behind the closed door there Cal and Jorge lingered. Hushed things that weren't quite words, Jorge refused to wonder what Agent Manse was doing to the rebel that might cause them.
Cal, on the other hand hardly noticed them, instead taking the quiet moment to look over BD. He held his arm horizontally so that the little droid had an eye level perch, with his free hand, Cal tapped at a loose cover over one of BD's hip rotors.
"Do you feel that?" he asked the droid.
Antenna rocking back while BD tried to wiggle around to see what Cal was poking, the explorer droid beeped with confusion.
"Hmm," Cal scowled slightly, "There's probably a repair shop in town."
This time looking directly at Cal, BD tilted his processing unit to the side, wondering if the shop's owner would let them use the space.
Cal almost chuckled at the idea, "I'm pretty sure they'd have to."
Desperately trying to pay attention to Cal's conversation rather than anything else, Jorge startled slightly when his comm chimed. Lifting a hand to the side of his helmet, he was left with a short message to relay to the Fourth Brother: "The rebel's name is Mia. She has a record for petty smuggling, nothing big enough to catch the navy's attention. No new arrests for the last three years."
"Hm, wonder if that's when she met Jenussa," Cal wondered, only partially distracted from his chat with BD, "Wait a second, who's telling you that?"
Jorge somewhat confusedly gestured to his helmet again, "Agent Manse?"
"He could have just pinged me directly," Cal paused, "He could just open the door."
"He probably didn't want to disturb you."
Cal couldn't help but roll his eyes, "If this is another protocol thing…"
"It is."
"Well it's dumb," the young Inquisitor didn't try to hide his annoyance as he turned to the door.
"I agree, but I can't do anything to change that. And honestly…" Jorge trailed off before he found himself on a tangent, "Eh, never mind. Let's just get this over with."
Pausing, Cal did a half turn to look at Jorge with a puzzled expression, "What?"
Jorge wasn't about to repeat himself, instead uttering, "We've got a prisoner to interrogate,"
"She's not going anywhere," Cal rooted himself in place, "say what you were going to say."
Grimacing beneath his helmet, Jorge debated simply lying to the Fourth Brother to make the moment pass. But, he was sure the inquisitor would see through whatever lie he told, "I should have said something earlier, but at lease pretend to care about the regs. Things got pretty heated back there"
"Back where?"
Though his face was hidden, Cal could sense Jorge's discomfort "Back on the street."
"What about it?"
It's like teaching manners to my little brother… The trooper clamped down on a familiar sense of annoyance before explaining simply, "you asked for my opinion in front of Manse and Bleen, even though you knew it meant me disagreeing with the colonel. Something wasn't adding up, and you made me point it out."
"Oh," A hushed relief that he didn't need to be quite so paranoid about Jorge washed over Cal, "Yeah? Someone has to say it when they're being dumb."
"You can say it!"
Cal shrugged.
Completely throwing protocol out the window Jorge felt like he was scolding a younger sibling as he whisper-shouted, "don't just shrug at me like that! There are real stakes at hand, and I'm in real danger if the officers think I'm mouthing off at them."
"You mean like you're doing to me right now?"
Words hitting like an icy shock, Jorge took a half step back, fidgeting slightly as half his instincts said to snap back to a careful protocol while the other -more primal- half said to run from an obvious predator.
"Relax Jorge," Cal caught a sense of both, "I didn't mean anything by that."
Not believing him for a second, Jorge carefully replied, "Of course you didn't."
Despite knowing that Jorge was still troubled, Cal moved on, "If anyone gives you any trouble, just tell me and I'll fix it."
The last thing Jorge wanted was to get someone killed, never mind what constantly calling Cal in to fight his battles would do to his reputation. But, he wasn't about to say any of that, instead offering a neutral, "noted."
Knowing that there was something going unsaid, Cal chose to leave it alone and move back to the beginning of the conversation, "Good. Now is there anything else Manase wanted? Beside just telling us about Mia's criminal record."
Happy to complain about the ISB, Jorge replied, "No. and it's been nothing but a bunch of thuds coming from behind the door, I'm surprised he learned that much."
"hm, I bet I could speed things up."
Catching a bit of surprise from the trooper, but moving before the older man had a chance to speak, Cal passed a hand over the de-powered door. Grinding the unwilling thing from its place via the Force, Cal nonchalantly stepped into the hotel room.
A wide window let in plenty of warm light, made golden from reflecting off rolling hills of grain. White linens covered the bed, and equally of crisp cloths covered a table just beneath the window. The floor a soft tan, and most of the walls to match, the little room felt open and bright and warm all at once.
But the bleeding and bruised rebel dampened the light feel of the place. One cheek already swollen; she sat wordless on the floor, slumped slightly forward. Her back against the bed, a set of cuffs had been clamped around her wrists and woven around the bed frame.
She had chin length black hair, half of it hanging forward to cover the unmarred section of her face. Unremarkable and in muddled brown clothing, Cal was sure that she could disappear into a crowed of farm workers as easily as he had slipped into the dead eyed masses of Bracca scrappers.
Sight moving on from the rebel, Cal looked up to find Manse standing near the dresser. Also covered in a bright white cloth, this one was tainted by fresh red stains and half a dozen equally bloodied tools. Cal recognized most of them and quickly looked away. Beside the tools sat a data bad, screen just out of view for Cal to read.
"Fourth Brother. Sergeant." Manse calmly addressed the others, seemingly half paying attention as he wiped clean a scalpel in his hand, "I wasn't expecting you."
"We've just been waiting in the hall." Cal offered.
Carefully suppressing a question, Manse's only tell was a slight blink, "Interesting. As I'm sure Sergeant Kendima has told you, I've made some progress with our guest, however stubborn she may be acting."
Quietly defiant, Mia didn't stir despite being mentioned.
"About that," Cal spared a glance at the rebel, "The Second Sister will probably be back by the time you get something out of her. Why don't I try?"
Pausing and looking for some hint of a slight, Manse went even more on guard when he found none. But he wasn't letting the moment pass without further inspection, "Sir?"
"I'm working on a Force technique," Cal offered, silently adding to himself, Never know when I'll get another pop quiz from Vader.
"Fascinating," Manse set his scalpel down, carefully tucking the now cleaned instrument into a cloth roll that Cal hadn't quite noticed, "What exactly is this technique?"
"Uh…" Cal parsed through the simple way to explain, "So sometimes when I go somewhere or touch things, I can see the past. I'm trying to get it to work on people too."
Jorge tried not to stiffen in the doorway, not so distantly remembering the incident with Sorc, not this psycho thing again…
Either way, the trooper didn't want to be around to see it in person – a video feed had been bad enough. Squirming slightly, the trooper half stepped back into the hall.
Cal noticed, "Right. Anyway, I'm just going to try my thing now,"
Wordlessly, Agent Manse collected his tools before tucking the roll into an interior pocket. Keeping himself curious, he leaned against the dresser. Mentally noting Sargent Kendima obvious discomfort, Manse kept his focus on the Forth Brother.
Cal hesitated at other two imperials in the room. "Uhh… I meant alone."
Eye brow raising with a question, Manse didn't quite get the chance to ask it before Sergeant Kendima quickly replied with a "Yes, sir."
Stepping to the side slightly, the trooper's blank helmet turned toward the ISB agent, an obvious insistence that they would both be leaving.
Reluctantly, the agent did as he was told.
A moment after the two other men stepped over the threshold, Cal forced the uncooperative door back into place with a flick of the hand.
Left only with BD at his side, Cal looked down at the rebel to find an almost blank look on Mia's face. A fragile thing, it hid a series of fears, a desperate hope.
Suppressing a sigh, Cal slouched down to the floor, his back against the dresser so that he looked even at Mia, "I know that look."
She refused to reply, stiffening her features and pointedly looking at the floor rather than the inquisitor.
"No one is coming for you." Cal went on, "You think they are. You'll hold out for a few more hours, days, maybe a few weeks, if you're really stubborn."
Cal paused, sparing a look at the tauntingly wide window.
"But trust me, they're not coming."
Mia only replied with more silence and a poorly hidden twitch.
Feeling the fear and resentment behind the involuntary gesture, Cal tried again, "Let me start again. I know you were at the factory. I know you're friends with Jenussa. I know you've been friends for a while, and I think you know where she's been hiding.
"You could help me out here," the Fourth Brother offered, "I don't think this has to hurt, objects can't really yell or shake when I touch them, but if you cooperate, I'm pretty sure you'll be fine."
This time Mia didn't flinch, having fought to reign in her doubts and replace them with anger, she mustered a sense of defiance and just enough spite to look the inquisitor straight in the eye.
Cal saw exactly how this was going to go, "So, you're not going to make this easy."
Silence.
Cal let it linger for far longer than was comfortable. Then, "Fine. Just remember that you chose this."
Pushing away from the dresser, Cal came to a crouch at the rebel's side. Unsure of what he was doing, he put a hand on her shoulder.
"Back off," the rebel finally spoke, jerking to the side.
Cal didn't let go, "You can still just tell me where you two were hiding."
Only able to look through her non swollen eye, Mia returned to a silent defiance.
"Have it your way."
And then the Fourth Brother took a deep breath.
Sorc had been a strange experience. Half machine, the gangster had been much closer to the objects that Cal was so used to sensing echoes off of. But he'd also been a man. Someone with thoughts and hopes and fears, and so many confusing senses that muddled the clean echoes that managed to imprint on a place or thing.
He'd been half strangled too, desperate and afraid, and barely able to control his own thoughts.
Mia was different.
Loyal, afraid. Stubborn, desperately trying to think of anything other than what the Fourth Brother wanted to know.
And he wasn't sure what he was doing either.
Treating the rebel like an object at first, the Fourth Brother breathed deep and tried to focus on the twisting currents of the Force. Searching for slight disruptions, waiting for subtle twists or sharp memories, he found the ordeal overwhelming when attached to a person.
Memories. Moments too bright, too alive, too real, screamed out around him. Burning things, emotional in that way that one hides from everyone but themselves, every facet of the rebels life washed over the Fourth Brother.
He almost broke the connection. He almost broke under the strain of truly understanding someone, of feeling what it meant to feel for someone else.
But he held on, searching for his own answers for his own grim task.
Biting his tongue until he tasted blood, the Fourth Brother twisted his grip, at once trying to grasp a fleeting memory and the flailing rebel.
"He's insane," a distant voice curled out of uneven thuds in the room.
Squeezing his eyes shut tight enough to see starbursts, Cal found a figure, distant and not quite there in the uneven lights.
They slumped slightly, "Yeah, I know.
"So we're just going to let him go out there and-"
"We're not letting him do anything" The second voice suddenly grew bright, a scene unfolding with it, "He's doing this all on his own. We're going to do everything we can to pick up the pieces he leaves behind."
And then the echo felt solid. Mia crossed her arms "Damage control? Really?"
Kori shrugged, "If the Empire doesn't want people to go around blowing things up, they should stop doing things that make people want to go around blowing things up."
"Conversations like this definitely make me want to explode"
Kori gave a half-cocked smile, "that's the spirit."
"Fine, whatever, we'll sit in the back seat while Saw goes out and does who knows what." Mia suddenly sat in a huff. With the little movement, the vision drifted into focus, the small room taking shape and gaining light.
A cellar, dirt walls and worn with age. Shelves lined the walls, but it didn't seem like a hardened rebel outpost. No long rang communicator, no rack of weapons. It was all food and water, soft blankets in bright and childish designs.
"I'll go out an make our rounds again tonight, someone has to pick up the pieces Saw leaves behind." Kori spoke again, a thin line of light drifting in from a narrow and high set window.
Mia rolled her eyes, "I'd rather we keep him from breaking things and people in the first place, but what do I know?"
Kori chuckled, "I'd love to agree with you, but I'm afraid we don't have that luxury anymore."
"I haven't had it sense I met you."
The jedi held onto her good humor, "And you've grown as a person because of it"
Which drew a dry look from Mia.
"Okay, okay. If I run into Saw while I'm out, I'll tell him to cool it a little. I don't think it will matter, but I can try."
Mia tried and failed to suppress a sigh, before standing, "I guess I shouldn't hold out much hope."
"Don't be like that," Kori spoke to Mia's back, the later having taken a few steps toward a rickety set of stairs leading out of the cellar.
"I'm not being anything besides realistic" Mia said over her shoulder before adding, "Lohma said it was my turn to get supplies from town, and I could kind of use the walk. You need anything?"
"…No, I'm good." A slight resignation coated the Jedi's reply.
The other woman said nothing for it.
"Hey Mia?"
She stalled at the top of the stairs.
"Thanks."
Mia paused.
And then she left.
Memories from there became scattered, thin things in flickers and snips that quickly ticked by until Cal found an image of himself in the town just a few hours ago.
Dropping the connection at a shock of fright and the sight of the Fourth Brother approaching like a predator, a black-clad hunter who hadn't decided if he were looking at prey, Cal startled back a step.
Then found himself standing in the hotel room, the rebel passed out but breathing in troubled fits at his feat.
Running a hand through his messed hair and only distantly aware of BD's weight on his back, Cal took a numb step toward the door.
He'd seen the building that housed the Jedi.
Now it was just a matter of finding it.
