The Fourth Brother stepped out of the Inquisitor's Tower and onto the landing platform.

Toxic red air whipped across the desolate place. Wailing against the durasteel structure, the wind caused an occasional heavy snapping noise to pop from the Second Sister's billowing cape.

She stood with her back to the door, awaiting an approaching lambda shuttle – their passage off Coruscant that she had begrudgingly arranged after it became clear that she had to bring the new inquisitor with her.

Silent, Cal crossed the platform, BD clinging to his usually place on Cal's back.

Thoughts foggy and confused for the last several days, the little droid felt as if he'd been stumbling through a waste deep swamp. Distant ideas and shreds of information that he wasn't sure where he'd learned plagued him, and it seemed that every question he'd managed to ask Cal only led to more questions.

For now, the explorer droid decided the best thing he could do was watch and learn.

The Second Sister sensed their approach. Saying nor doing anything for it, she simply watched the newly arrived lambda shuttle settle onto the landing platform.

By the time the landing ramp lowered with a hiss, the Fourth Brother had come to stand even with the Second Sister.

An odd tension, not that of a prisoner and their warden, not of a criminal and their dauntless pursuer, not that of one person desperately hiding from themselves and one trying to reveal a savage truth, lingered between them. It was a stubborn thing, a persistent nag, a heavy chain and a reassuring bond, something that tied them together like quarreling siblings. People who understood each other perfectly, but would only use that knowledge in the most harmful way.

Neither acknowledged it as they took their seats and the shuttle rose steadily into the air.

Away from the noxious air, Trilla removed her helmet, setting it on the bench beside her. Savoring a fresh breath, she was the first to speak, "Nothing has changed. You will still be following my lead."

Cal raised an eyebrow, and he was sarcastic as he asked, "You have a lead?"

"Enough of one. While you were busy trolling the undercity with the Ninth Brother, I was busy actually looking for Cere."

"So nothing concrete," Cal shot back, "Sense you didn't just leave me on Coruscant."

Trilla didn't take the bait, "I've arranged passage for us aboard the ISD Vehement, we're bound for the mid-rim. The ISB has prepared a mission brief for us once we arrive."

Against his will, a few things piqued Cal's interest, "The Vehement? Again?"

Trilla saw but failed to care about the coincidence, "Yes. It seems Admiral Beryl hasn't gotten rid of me yet."

Cal dropped it before moving on, "And sense when has the ISB been involved? You've never mentioned them before now."

"The ISB," Trilla began, "is a poor attempt at bureaucratized thugs. Every once and a while they'll glean something useful, but that's bound to happen even by mistake if you have enough people thinking about a particular problem." She paused before adding with contempt, "And they certainly have enough people."

"Ok…" Cal began, looking for an answer somewhere in Trilla's complaint "but that doesn't tell me what they're doing here."

She didn't suppress a roll of the eyes, "The ISB are one part intelligence agency, one part secret police. They have a department dedicated to investigating suspected Jedi, and they report directly to us. However, they're not very good. The rest of the ISB mostly investigates rebel sympathizers, they're decent at their jobs. This one believes that they found evidence of a Jedi embedded in a nascent rebel cell."

Cal said nothing, his face betraying his surprise.

"Yes, they tend to do that." Trilla spoke as if it were obvious, the slight sound of an accusation on her voice.

Cal chose not to hear it, "Could have fooled me. Last time I checked they were hiding, like a bunch of cowards."

Trilla leaned back, settling in for a long flight through Coruscant's complicated atmosphere, "Desperate cowards. They're desperate cowards, and that makes them irrational. And that makes them fools for things like a rebellion."

Settling in in his own way, Cal leaned forward. Memories from a different lifetime slid past him, rebels in the jungle, so hopeful for a return to a time before the Empire.

That hope, so sweet then, tasted bitter now.

"The rebellion wants the republic back." Cal spoke, almost for himself, "And probably the Jedi Order too…"

Trilla waited for Cal to go on, for there to be some drawn out struggle from the young man. She waited for a familiar waft of confusion, and then a pained realization of what he must do.

But Cal simply shook his head, muttering a flat, "I'm not letting that happen."

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

The halls of the ISD Vehement were exactly as Cal remembered them. Long, harshly lit by whining fluorescents, the metal halls carried the heavy thunking of Cal's foot steps as a dull rumble.

Though he'd only been on the durasteel behemoth once before, Cal found the halls to be familiar. Between their similarity to the Venators of his childhood, and the near mind-numbing consistency that the Empire used in all it's ship designs, Cal was able to navigate freely despite his relatively little experience with the Star Destroyers.

His journey through the halls was made all the faster by Cal's confident pace. Not shirking away from stormtrooper patrols, nor nervously shuffling past chatting officers, Cal moved as if he owned the place, confident that no one would challenge him now.

A confidence that BD was sure had to do with the fact that Cal had clear destination in mind as he wound through the maze-like halls. Curiosity getting the better of him, the little droid was about to beep out a question, but Cal came to an abrupt stop before he got the chance.

Coming to a blank door in a hallway lined with a series of blank doors, Ca l didn't spare a glance to his surroundings before knocking at one of the identical things.

A long second passed. BD strained to listen for a sound from the other side of the door, but found nothing. Doubling his effort, the little droid leaned forward slightly.

Only to be startled back when the door loudly whooshed to the side.

Bleary eyed, a stormtrooper peered out of a darkened room and into the too-bright hall.

Cal didn't feel even a little bit bad for waking the man up, "Hi Jorge."

Caught completely by surprise by Cal's sudden reappearance the stormtrooper sergeant let out an unguarded, "What are you doing here?"

Not sure what he expected, Cal blinked before answering, "Just hitching a ride on the ship. Again."

Shock dulling, the situation began to dawn on Jorge. Looking Cal up and down, he found not the scared and confused prisoner he'd been forced to share a room with, but instead a freshly outfitted Inquisitor. Clothing in a clearly imperial style, Jorge didn't recognize it as being from any particular service; much like the Second Sister, Cal dressed like an Imperial but still as something distinct, something decidedly other that left Jorge uneasy.

Cal himself seemed different as well. Standing a little taller, a little more relaxed, he met Jorge's gaze rather than quickly looking away as he had when they first met. Jorge wasn't sure if the little bit of familiarity they shared was responsible for that, or if it was something else.

He would have wondered longer, but the little droid that Jorge was sure had been contraband peeked over Cal's shoulder, the weight of its unblinking gaze and Cal's making him squirm.

Jorge looked up and down the hall, unsure of what he was even searching for but knowing he didn't find it before stammering out, "Uh, I mean, why don't you come in?"

Taking the invitation as it was offered, Cal stepped through the door as Jorge shifted out of the way.

Finding himself in one of his many past temporary quarters, Cal leaned against Jorge's desk, "So, still no roommate."

"I keep scaring them away." Jorge replied over his shoulder as he clicked his caf maker on. Blinking away the last of his sleep, he was sure that his day had begun early, despite the fact that he wasn't supposed to be on shift for the next five hours.

"I somehow doubt it," Cal replied as the machine whirred.

Trying to keep up polite conversation, Jorge asked, "What about you? Don't tell me you came back here to sleep on my top bunk again."

"No, I've got my own room this time. For some reason, it seems like Admiral Beryl suddenly cares about protocol."

The trooper looked Cal up and down, his sight lingering on the lightsaber freely dangling from the young man's belt, "Can't imagine why."

Hearing the implication and somehow not taking offense to it, Cal relaxed while the trooper poured a drink, "Maybe the Second Sister had a chat with him."

"You two still running around together?" Jorge fished for information, trying not to let a sudden stress get to him as he wondered if she still expected him to report to her about Cal's activities.

Thinking that the mere mention of Trilla had been what sat Jorge on end, Cal was gentle as he explained, "We're on assignment together, but she's not in charge like last time."

"Ah, good for you, then. Cup of caf?" the trooper offered, holding out a mug.

Cal waved him off, "I'm good."

Keeping the thing for himself, Jorge took a seat at the edge of his unmade bed. Taking a careful sip of the hot drink he glanced at Cal, trying to figure out why he had come back here, of all places.

"Did you…" Jorge did a double take to look at Cal, trying to remember if the yellow-gold tinge in his eyes had been there all along. Hand half raised to make a gesture at his own face, the stormtrooper stopped, thinking better when he saw something flicker across Cal's features, "You know what? Never mind. I'm just making things up."

Latching onto the almost comment, Cal asked, "What?"

"Ah, I'm getting old, and probably color blind." Jorge tried to downplay whatever sore spot he'd apparently stumbled over.

"No really, what is it?"

Pausing with his mug half way to his face, Jorge cautiously lowered it at Cal's tone, "I'm not trying to make a deal out of anything, but your eyes look kind of yellow."

Though he'd noticed, Cal hadn't had to deal with anyone pointing it out. He wasn't sure what to do with the information either. He'd wished for so long that there had been some physical change, some visual clue that he was different, that he wasn't the same scared scrapper that had fled Bracca, that he wasn't that hopeless fool that had hoped for the return of the Jedi, and now he got it.

When he looked into a mirror, an Inquisitor looked back at him.

And now it finally seemed like he was looking out at the rest of the world too.

"Remember what I told you about the Force?" Cal asked.

That it's got way too many rules, and that half of them are probably only in your head? Jorge sarcastically thought, instead replying, "You told me a lot of things about it. What's it got to do with…" Jorge squinted to take a closer look at Cal's eyes, "cybernetics? I'm guessing?"

Cal almost had to laugh, "I don't have implants, that's just my face."

"Well, it changed," Jorge spoke before he thought.

"…yeah. Guess it did, didn't I." Cal tried to hold onto the little bit of affability, but failing as he asked, "Hey Jorge, have you ever let go of something painful that you realized you were holding onto for way too long?"

A long pause settled while Jorge wondered what exactly the young Inquisitor meant, before giving a guarded, "I guess."

Cal was sure that he hadn't, not in the way that he meant. "Well, I learned to let some things go. It's better this way."

Knowing that the Inquisitor was suddenly having a conversation at him, rather than with him, Jorge was careful when he replied, "Good for you. But, besides just hitching a ride, what are you doing on the Vehement?"

And am I going to get dragged into it?