Chapter XXVI
Dorjander Kace, Coruscant, Sector 0-0-0
As her dropship approached the quarantine zone, Míranda couldn't help but admire Tau's strategy. Though the Temple was sealed off to the galaxy, the Jedi still sometimes came here to retrieve any artifacts from the Order that might be buried in the depths of the ancient bastion. Even now, seventy-five years after Krayt's defeat, there were countless levels and passages in the gargantuan structure that still had yet to be explored. It was easy to hide Míranda's missions within that traffic.
This was the first time Míranda had visited Tau's chosen prison herself. While her lieutenants and siblings-in-arms had escorted their captives here several times, she had focused intently on the hunt for the next rogue Jedi. She tried not to think about where her prisoners were being taken, ignoring Vorer's stories of a haunted, tomblike palace. She knew why Tau had requested that she come here in person: this was a loyalty test.
Approaching on the horizon was a series of angular, obsidian blocks, exposed durasteel frames, and scaffolding that resembled exposed bone clinging to the smooth sandstone-colored ziggurat like a parasitic lichen. Atop this mesh, five towers poked out like spokes on a crown, some smooth and ornamental, others sharp and bricklike. Míranda thought it looked like a living fortress at war with itself: a monument to the eon-old struggle between the light and the dark.
"Incoming transmission from Coruscant Security," Vorer reported at the helm.
"Put them through," Illa's voice sounded bitter and harsh.
"Attention Transport Draigon's Wings," the CSF officer referred to the Kace by one of its aliases, "You're entered a restricted zone. Turn back or transmit clearance codes."
Illa was about to speak, but Míranda gestured her to stop.
"I'll handle this," Míranda nodded to Vorer, who reopened the channel, "This is the Draigon's Wings. We're here with Jedi Master Yanas Illa, for the purpose of recovering and offloading artifacts recovered from the former Jedi Temple. Transmitting clearance codes now."
"Understood, Draigon's Wings. You are cleared to enter."
The dropship touched down in one of the temple's hangars, berthing alongside a pair of Ksilworm class shuttles decaled in Jedi colors, and – to Míranda's surprise – a Borosk class Imperial Shuttle. She was baffled to see a pair of crimson-armored Imperial Knights standing guard at the door.
Less surprising was the fact that Tau was waiting within the hangar himself, watching her vessel intently.
"Let's not keep the Grand Master waiting," Illa adopted her mystic, professional demeanor like a cloak, sharing Míranda's gift at body language control. Míranda followed suit, putting on her helmet as she and Master Yanas departed the gunship.
As they descended the ramps, Tau bowed in respect to his guests, a gesture they repeated. His beard had greyed, his face ever more lined and haggard.
"It is good to see you both," his voice suggested genuine empathy, "I am so sorry for the loss of your old padawan, Master Yanas."
"Thank you, Grand Master Skywalker," Illa almost choked up as she lowered her head, "K'yan died carrying out his duty. I just wish that we could have captured his murderers."
"Let us make sure his sacrifice was not in vain," Tau sighed regretfully, "Follow me."
Within her prison, Padawan Jenna Mar'ik fought against an everpresent cold.
A strange barrier formed of energy covered the entrance to her cell, cutting off Mar'ik from the rest of the world both physically and in the Force. When she had first arrived here, the young woman had discovered – to her shock – that she couldn't sense the other prisoners, nor anyone else in the prison. A strange energy barrier covered the entrance to every cell in this place. While Mar'ik herself wasn't willing to risk touching it, one overcurious prisoner had discovered that attempting to break the barrier would leave the captive writhing in agony for several seconds.
Within this cell, the light felt diminished, almost absent, its only source Mar'ik's own being.
"The light is not enough," the Shadow guarding them had said, "To understand, one must embrace all of the Force and all of their being."
The dark side surrounded her like mist, clouding her senses. Mar'ik felt its whispers in her heart, its chill attracted to the heat of her anger and grief.
"This is not a means of torture," so they had claimed, "This is to help you connect with the dark side and bring your two sides into balance."
Torture not of the body, Mar'ik had thought, But of the spirit.
"Meditate," a tall, commanding Twi-lek man garbed in dark, nondescript robes ordered as he patrolled the dark, narrow honeycomb that was their prison, "Feel the darkness of this nexus, let it align you into balance…"
Behind the barrier, Mar'ik was exercising, her dark skin and worn tunic drenched with sweat as her abdomen screamed with pain. Not giving her captors the satisfaction of seeing her meditate was a small form of revenge for the death of her master Sab'io, and her exercises kept her physically fit, ready for the day that the captive Jedi found a way to escape.
"Mar'eek," Paz Mar'al whimpered in the cell next to her, his voice muffled by the thick wall. He was only a few years younger than her, and had arrived at approximately the same time as she did. She wished she knew how long it had been, but there were no chronos and the light of the sun didn't extend down here. They had been here together as numerous other knights and padawans – all Adherents – had joined them in this prison.
"What is it, Paz?" Mar'ik asked softly, finishing her exercises and moving to the other wall.
"I...feel it again," Paz shivered, "I feel like I'm slipping, Mar'ik."
"Don't worry," Mar'ik assured him, "We're in this together, Paz. We'll all get out of here, we just need to keep ourselves focused."
"I can't meditate," Paz looked like he was almost sobbing, "I'll grow desperate. I'll fall to the Dark Side."
Mar'ik sighed, trying to figure out what to say. Then it hit her.
She took her ornamental gold clip – a gift that her parents had given her when she had transitioned – and unclasped it from her long black hair, letting the braided locks fall down her back. She then ran her fingers through her locks and let herself get chaotic, reducing the intricately woven hairstyle celebrated on her homeworld of Haldeen to an unkempt mess.
"Mar'ik?" Paz couldn't see what she was doing.
"I messed up my hair, Paz," Mar'ik laughed, "Now I have to style it back in place."
"Why?" Paz's voice was filled with confusion and disbelief.
"The nav route to evade despair is in the little things," Mar'ik quoted one of Master Sab'io's favorite sayings, "We can't spend every second thinking about the problem, Paz. Otherwise, it'll eat us alive. That's why I exercise. I need to find things to do to keep me focused."
Paz responded with silence. Mar'ik had no idea how he felt about what she said. She knew it sounded silly. Maybe she was finally going stir-crazy.
Her question was answered when she heard Paz' heavy breathing through the wall. Evidently, he was also exercising.
Mar'ik decided to start working on her hair. The hard stone floor was reflective enough to act as a mirror.
As she began, she heard the door to the cellblock open. She looked up to see for herself, and tightened her fist as he walked in, accompanied by…
Mar'ik suppressed the desire to scream in rage as she recognized the middle-aged woman with alert eyes and the ornate-armored Mandalorian. Master Sab'io's murderers had come to visit.
The armored warrior glanced at Mar'ik's cell. Mar'ik stared back, defiant as the warrior turned her visored gaze to Paz.
Míranda felt a knife in her heart as she saw the poor Kel Dor child slowly retreat to the back of his cell. He wasn't much older than Riko would be now.
"Status report, Valex," Illa asked of the Shadow guarding the prisoners.
"I think some of them are starting to see reason," Valex declared, "A few of them are beginning to accept their anger and rage. Many others are far more defiant."
Míranda suppressed the desire to shiver, forcing herself to remain attentive and professional.
"Continue with your practices, Valex," Tau replied, "If this works, we will have found a way to restore balance quickly without taking more lives."
Seeing the youthful ages of the prisoners made Míranda question why Tau had ordered her to kill the Masters and older knights. She answered her own question when she realized that younger Jedi with less experience would likely be more susceptible to the effects of the prison.
Illa continued her inquiry, "Are you facing any success with the Council Master?"
"He has not broken yet," Valex responded, "He is resilient."
"He has always been a defiant one," Tau noted, "Give him time, he will reveal what we wish to know."
"Yes Grand Master," Valex bowed, "By the will of the Force."
As the trio departed the prison, Míranda did her best to conceal her dread, frustration, and fear. She had always known that her line of work would require moral compromises in the name of the greater good. Yet, something about these cells unnerved her. Even if she hadn't known that this prison was of Sith origin – built by Darth Krayt to turn his Jedi prisoners – she, despite her lack of sensitivity to the Force, sensed an aura from this place that was very similar to that of the hellish realm of Maladi's Scourge.
What they were using these devices for chilled her on a deeper level. Even excluding the ethical ramifications, Míranda already saw tons of logistical problems with this plan…
"I can sense you have some doubts, Míranda," Tau declared as they reached the ancient Jedi shrines at the heart of the temple.
Míranda was halted in her tracks. She had to speak up about this.
"Yes, I do," Míranda declared, "You don't see any problems with this? Using a Sith nexus to try and 'balance' these Jedi?"
Tau slowly marched towards Míranda, his weary gaze stared down directly into the Mandalorian's visor.
"We are on the verge of open rebellion," Tau replied, "We must take extreme measures in times of war. You know this."
"Yes," Míranda replied somewhat anxiously, "But your plan misses all kinds of details. Just because you connect these Adherents with their dark sides doesn't mean they'll follow you. You killed their friends, their masters, and they'll want revenge. All it would take is one clever prisoner to escape and expose you."
"The prisoners will not be disclosing anything," Illa snapped, "The Force offers limitless possibilities."
"What are you talking about?" Míranda had a chilling suspicion as to what the final piece of Tau's plan was.
"There are ways of easing the pain of memory whilst retaining its effects on the individual's spirit," Tau sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself, "The prisoners won't remember a thing."
At first, Míranda wasn't sure what to say. When it finally came, she asked, "Do you know this technique?"
"Not yet," Tau declared with solemnity, "But I shall learn. I will not kill more Jedi than I have to. Too many have already died."
Míranda stared into the stone hallways of the shrine, realizing with horror what Tau was hiding within it.
"She's tried to kill you, multiple times!" Míranda insisted, "How do you expect to get the secret out of her? She'll find a way to turn on you!"
"Asharr will break," Tau sounded confident, determined, "And she will tell me what I need to know."
This plan was madness. Míranda had to make Tau understand that.
"There has to be another way!"
"We've poured over the archives," Tau sighed, "The technique has been lost, and its practitioners went into hiding long ago."
"Have you considered that you are toying with powers you do not understand?" Míranda lost control, the words just slipped out.
"No," Illa replied, "You seek to understand what you cannot, Mand'alor."
Illa's words cut Míranda to the bone.
"Master Yanas," Tau scolded, his voice stern. Illa bowed in respect.
There is no emotion, Míranda mentally recited in an attempt to keep herself composed, There is peace.
"I am sorry, Míranda," Tau sounded genuinely remorseful, "But Asharr is not your jurisdiction. I promise that one way or another, she will help us restore the Balance."