Trilla didn't care for the propaganda that echoed through the prison halls.
It's not that much more pleasant than the grinding metal was. She mused to herself as she made the short walk to Cal's cell.
The blatant imperial propaganda that was the Imperial Sentinel grew louder and more clear as she did. Trilla paid the flickering blue program little attention as she came to a stop at the red holoshielded wall.
Cal sat in the cramped cell, watching the news and pointedly ignoring the Second Sister as she came into view.
Cal had lost track of the days since his visit to the dojo. Truth be told, he wasn't sure if a full day had actually passed. Time was nothing but a blur of sleep, torture, and holograms.
Holograms that Cal knew were blatant propaganda. But they were also the only hint of the outside world that he'd had in weeks.
They were the first time he'd seen a face since that fateful battle.
"Get up." The Second Sister spoke over the holoprojector.
Wordless, Cal looked to the black-clad woman. Even he could feel the dangerous edge on his gaze. Sharp and cold, like the rest of the fortress.
Cal could feel the pressure of the Dark Side closing in around him. Ever since he'd dipped into it in the dojo, the misery in the halls felt more familiar than it did alien. Not like a friend, but like a harmless acquaintance when it had once been a deadly enemy.
Cal hated it.
That only made it worse.
When Cal didn't move, Trilla simply held up the control fob for the electroshock collar.
Seeped in distain and achy to his core, Cal rose from the bench.
He knew that he could quash down most of the pain if he reached out to the Dark Side, just as he'd done in the dojo. The knowledge was unsettling. And tempting. Understanding the he couldn't meditate as he'd done thousands of times before without being accosted by visions of the past made him even more trapped in the tomb-like present.
A moment after Cal came to standing, the red holoshield blinked away.
Trying and failing not to let a mild confusion show, Cal kept his gaze locked on the Second Sister.
"Follow me," she told him without explanation.
Sure that this would going to end in something terrible, Cal hesitated.
The Second Sister didn't appreciate Cal's stalling, but she knew that he was getting into his own head far more than she could.
He knew there had to be some dark plan at work. Trilla had arrived with her saber and his clipped to her belt. As far as Cal was concerned, that was proof that she was going to drag him back to the dojo.
He wasn't sure that he would be the same person after another fight like the last.
He also wasn't sure how many more sessions on the table he could stand.
After that foray into the Dark Side, he'd felt the temptation lingering. Part of him knew that he could tear the torturer's table apart if he pulled from the same place of power. He'd watched Cere do as much, through Trilla's memories. He knew the Dark Side was a path to unnatural abilities, maybe gaining freedom was one of them.
Waiting for a moment before deciding that she had let Cal's stalling go on for long enough, Trilla turned on her heel and began to stroll down the hall.
"You don't want to know what happens if I decide you're being defiant. Follow along."
She was bluffing, Cal had already seen the full suite of what the Fortress could do to him.
Cal didn't know that.
After a short debate, and a load of disappointment in himself, Cal begrudgingly followed after Trilla.
For a moment, Cal considered yanking his lightsaber from Trilla's belt. He had no real plan for escape. He didn't even know if there was a was a ship or elevator to the surface, let alone off the planet. But, it was a nice thought at freedom.
One that didn't go anywhere as Trilla approached the doors to the dojo.
Seeing the place stopped Cal in his tracks, "I'm not going in there."
Standing in the now open doorway, the Second Sister looked over her shoulder at Cal, "Afraid you'll kill someone again?"
Cal scowled. He'd been more worried for his own sake than he was for some faceless imperial goons.
"I'd like to see him try." A smooth third voice came from behind Cal.
Twisting around at the sudden surprise, Cal felt a flash of annoyance at his having missed the unfamiliar presence.
This is what happens why you try to cut yourself off from the Force. Part of him bitterly told the rest.
The new comer approached Trilla and Cal. Cal took mental note of him as he did.
Tall. Some alien race that Cal didn't recognize, the man had gray-green skin that looked like stiff plates. While the man's face was exposed, the first one Cal had seen in person in weeks, the rest of his broad figure was concealed by a black inquisitor's uniform.
"You're late, Fifth Brother." The Second Sister scolded.
"I was on a mission." He smoothly replied, his insinuation that he was better than the Second Sister because of that fact clear on his voice.
"And now you're following my orders," The Second Sister wouldn't be insulted so easily.
Preferring not to waste time on words with the other inquisitor, the Fifth Brother looked to Cal instead.
The would-be Jedi looked small and terrified. Gaunt from a lack of food and pale from lack of sun, the Fifth Brother decided that their prisoner looked like a ghost of himself.
The Fifth Brother doubted that the prisoner was worth their time.
But orders were orders, and he would follow them.
Even if it meant that the Jedi wouldn't survive.
.***.***.***.***.
The Mantis smoothly slid through hyperspace. Endless flashes of blue white light painted the cockpit, a steady and calm contradiction to the frantic energy that lingered in the room.
Cere, Greez, and Merin had nearly been blasted out of the stars a dozen times in the last month. Being on the run from the Empire was nothing new for the crew. Being hunted, tracked, and stalked across the galaxy had been their way of life for years.
But things had gotten worse.
Imperial forces were bolder and better manned than before.
The Mantis crew had lost their goal of retrieving the holocron. They'd failed miserably at saving Cal. Cere couldn't bring herself to search for more force sensitives. Not after last time.
"Another close call," Greez spoke to the room, looking for a reply that might help lightened the tension.
"Any closer and we will be dead." Merin's matter of fact comment wasn't what Greez was looking for.
