Trigger Warning: This chapter is rated M (Mature) and contains attempted sexual assault and torture.
Lorna's gaze snapped up to the barrel of Barqul's blaster. She bit back a curse along with the panic that had risen in her throat.
"Alright, Barqul, you've had your fun. We'll take it from here. Get her away from the merchandise," Ovek said. He sounded bored, as if her capture were a routine business transaction.
Electrostaffs crackled as they ignited behind her. A glance over her shoulder revealed Ovek had a blaster pointed her way, too.
Her lightsaber—of course, she had left it behind on theComet. She was surrounded by armed opponents and explosive materials.
The coaxium canister still hovered where she held it with the Force. Barqul reached out and plucked it from the air, blaster still trained on her. He tossed it up one-handed, then caught it again. Lorna flinched even as the realization hit her.
Fake.
"It seems what I've heard is true," Barqul said, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Jedi always give themselves away eventually."
He dropped the canister into a nearby junk heap where it clanged harmlessly. With his blaster still drawn, he approached, unhurried. A satisfied grin spread across his face as he reached over with his free hand. It glided over her sides and legs, checking for weapons.
Breathe.
Barqul reached into her front pocket and pulled out the credit chip. "Ovek, if you don't mind," he said, waving the chip.
"Transferring the payment now," Ovek said, his long fingers tapping on a datapad.
Barqul slid the credit chip into his pocket, then withdrew a pair of stun cuffs. "Hands. Now, little bird."
She hesitated, knowing there was no point. She couldn't fight her way out of this one.
Barqul's smile faded, his eyes hardening beneath his ridged brow. He poked her on the chest with the blaster. "Don't think I won't just stun you and haul your ass out of here if you try to fight."
She glared, then slowly raised her hands. The cuffs snapped into place, locking with a scan of his fingerprint. Barqul wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and shoved.
"Move."
He marched her out of the refinery building and along a weathered walkway leading away from the landing pad, further inland. The structures grew more sparse as they progressed, each more decrepit than the last.
Eventually, they reached a derelict warehouse standing isolated on the compound's outskirts. Corrosion had eaten through sections of its walls, and the rusted door hung awkwardly, jammed halfway open. Barqul released his grip on her arm just long enough to wrench the door wider with a screech. The smell of stale engine oil wafted out as he pushed her inside.
Rusted pipes lined the walls at the entrance, threaded ends bare where equipment had once been connected. Piles of empty coaxium canisters littered the floor near the walls. At the back of the warehouse, rows of large storage crates were stacked, some as high as the ceiling.
Barqul shoved her against the warehouse wall. "Don't move." He reached behind his back with his free hand to retrieve a second pair of stun cuffs.
With the blaster still pointed at her chest, he closed one cuff around the middle of the ones she wore, then seized her wrists and snapped the other cuff around a pipe above her head.
He stepped back, lowered his blaster, and pulled out a comlink. "This is Barqul Lo'darien. Inform the Inquisitorius that I've captured two Jedi and am holding them for extraction at the Bis Refinery on Savareen."
A voice responded, crackling over the comm. "This is PT-104. Please provide descriptions and additional information."
"They've been impersonating smugglers to repair their stolen ship. They were planning to meet up with two smugglers named Niko and Sinya on Jabiim," Barqul responded.
Lorna's stomach dropped. The surveillance droid. Ithadoverheard them at theCometthat day. What else did they—
"One human female. Twenties." Barqul met her eyes. "The other is a human male. Thirties. And I have reason to believe he is the wanted Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi."
All of the blood drained from Lorna's , no, no…
Silence stretched over the com. Then: "The Second Sister wants them alive. Activate your transponder beacon and stand by for extraction."
"Understood," Barqul confirmed before cutting the connection. He pressed the transponder button and a red light began blinking on the comlink's side.
He turned to her, slipping the comlink and blaster into their holsters.
"Nothing to say for yourself, little bird?" he taunted.
"He's not who you think he is. He's not even a Jedi," Lorna said. "What I told you is true. Ben is a hired pilot I've worked with before."
She knew the lie was unconvincing, but she had to try. Barqul's trap had caught her red-handed, but he couldn't possibly have the same proof about Obi-Wan.
Barqul pulled out his datapad, tapped it a few times, then turned the screen around for Lorna to see. A wanted advertisement, including name, physical description, enormous bounty reward—and a headshot of a Jedi that was unmistakably Obi-Wan.
"You're the one who called him by that name," Barqul said, the datapad disappearing back inside his bag. He set the bag down and cracked his knuckles. "Of course, you didn't realize my droid was watching at the time."
Lorna swallowed.
"I didn't recognize the name at first. Then he said his name was Ben at our meeting, so naturally, I wondered why. But then I remembered how you went waving your hand around when we first met." He stepped closer. "I have to give it to you. Your little story about Niko sending you to finish his job was a good one. But you and Master Kenobi do not cover your tracks as well as you think."
Another step closer.
"Despite the fact that you two were about to start groping each other on theCometthis morning—" Barqul laughed as if amused by some private joke— "you knew I was coming up the ramp. The only way you could have known I was there is if you had the hearing of a Pau'an. Or those special Force powers."
They'd been so careful. But not careful enough. She slumped in her restraints, stifling a groan of despair.
"I would have expected far more cunning from Jedi." An orange flush crept into his skin, and a familiar warmth seeped into her blood.
"You're making a big mistake, Barqul."
He scoffed. "Am I now? Do you thinkMaster Kenobiwill come to save you? I hope he does. It will save me the trip of having to go get him."
"You must not be too familiar with Master Kenobi if you think you'll capture him so easily," she said, straining against the cuffs.
Barqul glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. She followed his gaze to the butt of his rifle.
"See that? Special Mandalorian design. Fires slugs as well as energy bolts. His lightsaber will be useless at range." His voice dripped with cocksure satisfaction.
Her confidence flagged, but she didn't break her hard gaze from his.
"You don't know he'll come," she said through gritted teeth. "What if he senses the danger and runs?"
"Oh, but I think I do know." A tingling sensation spread from her limbs to her core as the blood all went to the same place. One long finger reached out and touched her jaw. "Your identities as Jedi are not the only things you've failed to hide from me."
Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, Lorna wondered what he meant by that, but her focus didn't allow her to examine it too closely.
"You see, little bird, I know you two have ways of communicating without speaking."
He suddenly pressed up against her, the rusted warehouse wall like sandpaper against her back. The burnt chemical smell of death sticks was thick in her nostrils. His chest rose and fell against hers as one hand slid down her side to grip her ass. The other curled around her throat.
"And I know when he senses what I'm about to do to you, he will come. And I will be ready."
Lorna's jaw went slack at the realization of what he planned. Even during her year in the Underworld, where crude comments and the occasional roaming hand were commonplace, it had never come to this. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a caged animal as Barqul's savage gaze swept over her.
All her focus shifted to calming her pounding heart. Barqul wanted her to react, for his attack to travel through the Force like a beacon straight to Obi-Wan. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
She reached for the Force, pulling it close like a protective fortress. Within it, the pheromones' influence on her mind dimmed, and Barqul's violating grasp became distant, more bearable. She breathed deep, releasing some of her fear and repulsion.
The cuffs clanged loudly on the pipe as she yanked down, hoping for a weakness that would let her break free. Barqul responded by pressing his knee between her thighs, trying to force them apart.
"Come on, little bird." His voice turned dark, violent. "You've already opened your legs for Niko and your Jedi friend. Is that how you've managed to stay hidden all this time? Fucking your way to safety?"
Anger flashed in his eyes when she clenched her legs tight and swerved the lower half of her body away from him. She drove her knee upward with all her strength. He swiveled his legs, her knee glancing off his hip rather than finding its more vulnerable target. The impact would still leave a bruise, at least.
"Bitch!" His grip tightened on her throat. "If you don't call for him, I'll just have to go get him," he said, baring his teeth in a snarl.
"No…" Lorna pleaded, her voice coming out as a rasp.
Tears pooled in her eyes as she kicked her legs in vain. He had her pinned. She stifled the panic that was clambering its way up her chest and retreated further into her Force cocoon, blocking out the feeling of his wet mouth at her collarbone, his hands under her tunic.
Her response, or lack thereof, was clearly not what he was expecting.
She thought she had seen the extent of Falleen pheromone capabilities. But the barrage of sensations that assaulted her in that moment told her she was wrong. Fire burned in her veins and every hair on her body stood on end.
"No one can resist a Falleen's pheromones at full capacity," Barqul purred, his breath hot against her neck. Every bit of his skin that she could see was now vivid orange.
Her arms went taut above her head as she sagged against the cuffs, her knees giving out on her. The invisible fog around her thickened, making her body greedy with desire even as her mind recoiled in disgust. Barqul's deep, gurgling laugh filled her ears.
A sobbing gasp escaped her lips. Force, help her. If she didn't find a way to stop Barqul soon, she might succumb to the humiliation he intended. The Inquisitor could arrive at any moment, eroding her chances of escape.
The Dark Side of the Force simmered at the edges of her consciousness, feeding on her desperation. It whispered of its usefulness, of other ways she might stop Barqul. She had only to reach for it, and her crumbling Force barriers would fortify. Revenge would be hers.
No. Her mental shields had not crumbled. Her body's responses still betrayed her, but the Force kept her wits sharp. Obi-Wan's training had strengthened her ability to maintain those shields. Thoughts of him pushed away the darkness—his guidance, his companionship, his affection. He was the light she would fight her way back to.
She would not succumb. She would escape.
She scanned the far end of the warehouse beyond Barqul's shoulder. Her gaze settled on one of the piles of empty coaxium canisters.
"Don't go," she murmured, pitching her voice low and alluring.
Or at least she hoped it sounded that way, because in reality she was suppressing the nausea that churned in her stomach. But she needed him close. Distracted.
Using her restraints as leverage, she maneuvered her legs around his waist to keep him from leaving.
"Changed your mind, did you, little bird?" Triumph gleamed in his violet eyes.
"Please, Barqul, I… I need you." She pulled him in closer, fighting the bile rising in her throat.
"Are you going to do what I tell you now?" he asked, his hands gripping her waist tightly.
"I'll do anything you ask," she said, giving him the same doe eyes the usher at the stadium gave him. She made sure her mental shields were still locked down tight.
"Good girl." His hands moved to his belt buckle.
She reached through the Force and yanked an empty canister from across the warehouse. It shot toward the back of Barqul's head like a missile. But removing the one canister dislodged others in the pile, causing them to clank loudly against each other. The noise made him whirl around, arms raised to shield his face just in time.
Lorna didn't hesitate. Suspended from the pipe, she swung her legs up around Barqul's neck from behind. The Force showed her exactly where to squeeze the critical artery in his throat with her right calf, while her left leg reinforced the grip.
Barqul clawed at her legs, fingers digging into her flesh as he tried to break free. But Lorna channeled the Force into her muscles, her hold tight as a vise. If she could just maintain the hold long enough for him to lose consciousness, she could use his fingerprint to unlock the cuffs and escape to theCometbefore the Inquisitor arrived.
Then she heard the whine of an approaching TIE fighter. She was out of time. And Barqul knew too much.
"I'll kill you!" he croaked in rage as her grip tightened. His hand fumbled desperately for the blaster at his hip.
He gave her no choice. She twisted her legs sharply to the side. A sickening snap echoed off the warehouse walls. When she released him, Barqul's body fell limp to the ground, his head lolling to the side at an unnatural angle.
Without stopping to catch her breath, she maneuvered Barqul's lifeless body off the ground using the Force. She grunted with the effort, stretching out his arm to get his index finger closer to the scanners on her cuffs. When his drooping head hovered at eye level, she turned her eyes away, unable to face the contorted fury frozen onto the Falleen's features.
The cuffs opened with a beep, freeing her hands to rub her wrists where angry welts were rising. Barqul's body slumped back down to the ground. She heard the TIE's engines roar louder and then cut off somewhere behind the warehouse.
Then she sensed that cold, distorted Force presence. The same Inquisitor from Coruscant. It drove the air from her lungs. The woman was once again seeking her out, honing in on her location. Her mental shields were still strong, she hoped it would be enough to—
The transponder beacon's red light blinked at her where Barqu's comlink was still clipped to his belt.
Frantically, she pulled the rifle off of Barqul's back, then flipped him over to retrieve her credit chip from his pocket. She ran for the door.
The Inquisitor was waiting for her, a dark silhouette against the dim light of the walkway ahead.
Savareen's sun had set, but the muted glow from the distant refinery buildings allowed her to make out the pristine Inquisitor uniform, the sleek black helmet and red visor. The double-bladed lightsaber ignited with a menacing snap-hiss, bathing the industrial ruins in a blood-red glow.
"Well, now. Isn't this a pleasant surprise?" the Inquisitor said. Even through the helmet's modulator, Lorna caught the distinctive cadence of her voice—smooth and cultured with a crisp Coruscanti accent.
Lorna raised Barqul's rifle to her shoulder.
"I can scarcely believe my luck," the Inquisitor said. "The very same Jedi that escaped me on Coruscant. Falling right into my hands. And suchfascinatingdevelopments. She's headed to Jabiim. WiththeObi-Wan Kenobi. Where is the great General, by the way? The bounty hunter promised the both of you."
"The bounty hunter lied. He wasn't able to capture Obi-Wan."
"Then whereishe?"
"He's coming to find me," Lorna lied. "You won't be able to take us both—he's too powerful."
A low, threatening rumble came through the Inquisitor's modulator. She waved her lightsaber with a flourish and stalked toward Lorna.
Lorna fired the rifle, but to her dismay, energy bolts emerged from the barrel. The red blade twirled, diverting the bolts into the nearby structures. The rifle was effectively harmless unless she could get it to fire the projectiles, but she was unfamiliar with the weapon. She needed to find cover before she could figure out how to switch the setting.
She retreated, dashing back into the warehouse. The Inquisitor followed. Her visor dipped as she took in the sight of Barqul's body on the floor.
"Impressive," she said. "You've done me a service. Now I won't need to pay him for leading me to you."
Lorna led the Inquisitor further inside, hurling coaxium canisters with the Force as she went. The red blades sliced the canisters out of the air, the severed halves clattering harmlessly to the floor.
She reached up with the Force and pulled on a stack of storage crates. They crashed to the ground between her and the Inquisitor. While the dark figure dodged, Lorna darted behind the last row of crates, tucking herself between two taller ones. By the time the Inquisitor leaped over the barrier, Lorna was hidden from sight, her signature masked.
"What could possibly be on a backwater like Jabiim that you would risk exposure pretending to be smugglers to get to it?"
Lorna scrambled in the dark, looking for the switch to get the rifle to shoot slugs.
"Trying to find your friends, perhaps? They escaped on Coruscant, you'll be happy to know. But those who aid fugitive Jedi must face the consequences." The Inquisitor paused. "That wouldn't have anything to do with Jabiim, would it? Smuggling Jedi?"
Lorna's fingers carefully flipped the switch, wincing at the tiny click it produced.
"And Kenobi. Where does he fit in all this, I wonder?"
From her hiding spot, Lorna couldn't see the Inquisitor as she stalked the rows of crates, but she sensed her hostile presence inching closer. She would wait until she had a direct shot, then reveal herself. She wasn't certain she'd get more than one. She couldn't miss.
The Inquisitor approached the row where Lorna was hiding and stopped. There was a click and the whirring of hydraulics as she removed her helmet.
"Not interested in chatting, Lorna?"
Lorna's heart jolted at the shock of it. That voice, she knew that voice… It wasn't possible—
She whirled from her hiding place, the rifle aimed and ready, a part of her still clinging to the hope that the voice did not belong to who she thought it did.
"Trilla?" Lorna gasped, eyes wide.
The rifle lowered as her shoulders sagged under the weight of the revelation. The Dark Side had taken its toll on her features—sunken, black circles now rimmed the ice-blue eyes, and her mouth was curved in a permanent sneer, but there was no mistaking the face of her friend.
Trilla responded with a mocking hum of amusement. "You really had no idea, did you?"
The resemblance ended at her appearance. Cruelty had replaced liveliness in her voice, and hatred seethed in eyes that had once gleamed with mischievous humor. Even Trilla's Force signature was changed, a warped and broken shadow of the one she knew.
"You… you've turned to the Dark Side."
"How very perceptive of you,Lor." The old nickname came out like a curse.
"How… What happened to you?"
"You mean after the Jedi were destroyed, too blinded by their own arrogance to see the truth?"
"Trilla, what are you talking about? The younglings…you and Master Cere were—"
"Cere betrayed me and the younglings." Trilla bared her teeth. "She was weak. The Jedi are weak. I have been reforged into something far stronger than a Jedi could ever be."
"No. I don't believe that," Lorna said.
This wasn't real. This couldn't be the friend who'd made her laugh till her sides ached during sparring. Couldn't be the friend who'd teased her about her awkward first kiss.
"The Dark Side…I can feel how it's consumed you," Lorna said. "I can help you. Trilla, whatever the Empire did to you—"
"Enough! I did not come here for your pity." She sneered and raised her lightsaber. "What's on Jabiim?"
Lorna raised the rifle again. "Trilla, please. Don't do this."
Trilla started to close the gap between them. Lorna's heart splintered as she lined up her friend in the rifle's sights. At the last second, she changed her target from Trilla's chest to her shoulder.
She squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, a third time.
Trilla's blade was already moving to block the bolts she was expecting to come from the rifle. The slugs each hit the plasma blade and vaporized, scattering particles of molten shrapnel at Trilla's neck and hand. She roared in pain, dropping her lightsaber and clutching the injured hand close to her body. The side of her neck looked like it had been scalded with a hot iron.
Lorna had a clear shot as Trilla staggered. Her finger hovered over the trigger. But she couldn't bring herself to fire.
Instead, she reached out to pull the lightsaber to her. Not fast enough. An invisible grip snatched Lorna by the throat before she could summon it, lifting her off the ground. Her toes skittered on the floor as Trilla suspended her, her good arm outstretched. With a yelp, she slammed violently to the ground, the air driven from her lungs. She lost her grip on the rifle and it clattered to the floor.
"You should have taken the shot," Trilla spat.
Trilla marched forward at a rapid clip, calling her saber to her good hand. Lorna tried to scramble backward, but Trilla's Force grip held firm, pinning her to the ground. She reached for the rifle but Trilla kicked it away.
Force, no. Not was catching up to her. The fight with Barqul had cost her precious amounts of strength, draining the reserves in her body and her connection to the Force.
A heavy boot slammed into her ribs, and Lorna would have folded inward in pain if she hadn't been frozen in place. She strained against Trilla's hold, her muscles screaming, but couldn't break free. With what strength she could muster, she pushed with the Force, hoping to drive Trilla back. But the Dark Side anchored her, and she weathered the wave of energy with a just a tense of her muscles.
"You are too soft. You always have been. Just like the rest of the Jedi." The tip of Trilla's lightsaber hovered over her shoulder. "You will tell meeverythingbefore I am done with you."
Trilla jabbed her blade forward, but Lorna caught it with the Force before it could land. The heat of it singed the threads of her tunic.
"Kenobi is on his way, hm? Seems likenow—" The tip of the lightsaber moved a hair closer. "—would be a good time for him to arrive."
Smoke was rising from the fabric on her tunic, heat flushing the skin underneath. A presence clawed at her mind, scraping across her barrier as if looking for a seam to tear, a gap to peel open.
"What are the odds that you two would cross paths after you escaped the Temple?" Trilla mused, the pressure of her mental probe intensifying. "Just where have you been hiding all this time?"
She groaned as she pushed the claws away. She could not betray Obi-Wan by allowing Trilla to learn about Tatooine.
"I should thank you for leading us to him, by the way. I do hope he doesn't keep us waiting."
No. She still didn't need to alert him. Perhaps he had not sensed Trilla's arrival. There had to be some other way for her to escape. The claws snagged and a sliver of her desperation to keep Obi-Wan away slipped through.
Trilla's eyebrows arched. "Protecting him? How precious. But it's not me you need to protect him from. Lord Vader wanted to come and collect the General personally. He'll be along shortly, and he will have no trouble locating Kenobi."
Lord Vader?Lorna's eyes darted wildly as she tried to understand.
Trilla grinned, the burns on her neck tugging as the muscles worked. "You haven't heard of him, have you? The head of the Inquisitorius. A Sith more powerful than you can imagine."
Cold dread wrapped around her throat until she felt like she couldn't breathe. ASith. Hunting Obi-Wan. He needed to know, needed a chance to escape before it was too late. It was the only way she could protect him now.
Flee.
The terrified plea struck out past her barriers, like a bolt of lightning charged with all of her will and desperation. She projected as far as she could cast it, then slammed her walls shut again.
"It won't matter," Trilla said harshly. "He will not escape Vader. But when my superior arrives, I will need something to report."
Trilla slammed into her mental walls with brutal force, an ion cannon attempting to obliterate her defenses.
"What's on Jabiim, Lorna?"
If her shields broke, Trilla would sort through her memories like files in the Archives. She'd learn of the Path, and the Jedi who sought its refuge on Jabiim. She'd learn of Obi-Wan's home on Tatooine.
Half of her strength pushed at the mental probe while the other half held back the tip of the saber. She felt as if she was being torn in two. Her heart sank into despair as she realized the horrific truth—she couldn't possibly endure both for much longer.
The Dark Side lashed through her pain, striking with the speed of a Moraband serpent, releasing its venom in her mind. Save yourself. Save him,it you can be together at raw power pulsed just beyond her grasp, demanding only that she stop running from the emotions she'd spent a lifetime avoiding.
When you acknowledge your emotions instead of trying to destroy them, you can release them.
Obi-Wan had already taught her to stop running.
I am afraid. I am in pain. I care for him more than I she felt flooded her mind, drowning out the serpent. She accepted each admission, then released them to the Force.
It was too late to save herself. But she could ensure Trilla never learned of Jabiim. She could give Obi-Wan a chance to escape.
Sweat poured down her face and her teeth were clamped down so hard she thought they might break. The pressure in her skull was crushing, blinding her to nearly all other sensations.
That is, until the tip of the lightsaber met her shoulder.
A scream tore from her throat as the skin blistered and the charred smell of her own flesh met her nose. She tried to call on the Force, to use it to protect herself again. But all the energy she possessed, she needed to guard her mind.
Trilla removed the blade, leaving behind a scorched patch of skin on her shoulder. "Tell me what's on Jabiim," she said, emphasizing each word with malice.
The blade lowered again, this time on the soft flesh above her right breast. White-hot pain blazed across her chest, and she was screaming again. But her mind didn't break.
Trilla growled, enraged. "Whatever you're protecting, I will find it. If you won't give it to me now, perhaps you will after you have suffered. As I have suffered."
Again and again, Trilla found new places to mark, leaving a trail of raw burns on her torso. Every time the blade lowered, Lorna wondered if this time it would pierce right through her, finally ending her torment. But Trilla's control was immaculate, never allowing her blade to penetrate too deeply, even when she started writhing uncontrollably in pain.
Her vision clouded, shadows creeping in around the edges. Each second stretched impossibly long as her limbs went ice-cold, even as her chest burned. Were those her own cries she could hear, so far away?
I'm going to die, Lorna thought distantly.
Her awareness was slipping away. The flash of a blue lightsaber streaked through her fading sight, and then oblivion claimed her.