29

Krell didn't take anymore of her memories.

He tried, showing her visions from Serenno, from Ord Mantell, even Hareth. Each time, he made her live through the memory anew. Tried to convince her that her friends were the true enemy and she the victim.

She was forced to fight against Anakin and Obi-Wan. To be hunted by Ahsoka. Tortured by Rex for information. Beaten by Wolffe. Once, she was even taken by Phee to appease the Spice Queen.

None of it worked. Every time, Saedii reached for her neck and found it empty, and she knew that Krell was feeding her lies.

Saedii could tell he was growing impatient. Every time he pushed and prodded, forced her to live through terrible ordeals, she could sense the undercurrent of his frustration. His disbelief.

Obey! His voice would echo in her mind – too loud inside the Marauder's cockpit or the Black Hole or the railcar on Eriadu.

But Saedii would grip her bare neck and snarl back, Never.

Back in her cell, Cere was pleased.

"Krell holds no more power over you. He won't break you again," she told Saedii once she'd woken once again and found herself free from the stone table.

"No," Saedii agreed, but it was muffled. Not nearly as defiant as Cere's own voice across from her.

Cere observed her. "What's wrong, little one? You should be proud. You have survived where other Masters have not. Plo would be proud of you."

The mention of Plo made her uncomfortable. When she thought of her Master, all she remembered was the pain as he drove his blade into her back. As he'd tried to kill her. Cere insisted that there was another memory hidden there, but Saedii couldn't find it.

Saedii's fingers drifted over the wound along her shoulder. It had scabbed now, but still throbbed. In the cold and dank air, it was impossible to know if it was healing normally. And with no way to count the time, Saedii couldn't even be sure how many days it had been since Wayland.

"The things Krell shows me," Saedii admitted after a moment. "I know they're not real, but they feel real. Very real."

A divot appeared between Cere's eyebrows. She waited.

"Real enough that I now know what it feels like to be hurt by my friends," Saedii said quietly.

Faint flashes of fists along her skin replayed with stark clarity. Wolffe's – hard and durable, hitting her where it would hurt the most. Wrecker – as powerful as an attack cruiser, breaking her bones. Crosshair – cruel and intentional, drawing it out so that she sobbed and begged him to stop.

It wasn't real. But now she knew what their hands would feel like if they ever turned on her. Knew just how badly they could hurt her.

Understanding dawned on Cere's face. "You worry that the next time you see them, you will be afraid."

Saedii said nothing. Actually, she was sure that she'd never see them again. That she would never escape these dungeons, same as Cere.

But that wasn't what frightened her. While her memories of Hunter and the rest still remained, now she couldn't help but think of them and flinch. There was a fear there that hadn't been before. An uneasiness that tainted just how much she cared for them. How much she missed them.

Now that she knew how they could hurt her, a part of her feared them. And that made her angry with herself.

"From what you have told me of your friends, you don't have to worry about them." Cere was assured as she said this.

"I know that." It was silly to think that Hunter or Crosshair or any of them would ever hurt her. But how was she supposed to look at Crosshair's hands and not remember how it had felt to bleed beneath them?

"Then what is it that you fear?"

Saedii clutched the necklace in her hand. "I think that this dungeon is taking parts of me. Pieces that I'll never be able to get back."

A weighted silence fell between the two of them. When Saedii glanced up, Cere was deep in thought. Her eyes, normally so calm and steady, were sad.

"Even if I never make it out of here, I don't want to lose anymore of myself. Krell has already taken too much. But I'm afraid that the longer I stay here, the more I'll lose," Saedii expanded.

"You will make it out." Cere's voice was hollow. Not like her usual.

"But there's no way –"

"You will not die down here, Saedii. Not like Trilla. Not if I can help it," Cere said suddenly.

At the thought of Trilla, somewhere in the Fortress above, wearing Inquisitor blacks and waiting for her next order, Saedii was suddenly curious. "How did Trilla become...like that?"

Cere let out a long breath. "It happened very quickly. She had nothing to tether herself to – no tattoo or necklace to remind her the visions weren't real. She was defenseless against Krell's power. Within a few weeks, I had lost her."

Saedii bowed her head. After losing the first of her memories to Krell, she could imagine how easy that would be. How he would slowly chip away until all that remained were false memories of blood and betrayal.

Trilla had been a gentle girl back at the Temple. Soft-spoken and kind. It still seemed impossible that she could have become the blood-thirsty and vicious Second Sister that waited at Krell's beck and call.

"I miss her," Cere said softly. "Every day. I wish I could have done more to save her."

"How did you get here? Both of you?" Saedii asked her.

"Trilla and I were on Coruscant during Order 66. We took a group of younglings from Kelleran Beq and brought them into hiding," Cere explained. She rubbed at her inner arm. "Once we'd gotten them to safety, we received word that there was a Jedi hiding on Bracca. The Padawan learner of Master Jaro Tapal."

"Cal?" Saedii asked in surprise. Cal Kestis had been her age at the Temple. He'd been a quiet boy, though he had gotten along well with Saedii and Kalth. The three of them had forged their lightsabers together on Ilum.

"Yes."

"Did you find him? Was he alive?"

"He was," Cere said slowly. "But the captain that brought us to meet him sold us out – all three of us. Darth Vader and Krell arrived to hunt us all down on Bracca. Trilla and I were captured."

Saedii ran her nail anxiously along the rock. "And Cal?"

"He got away. I made sure of that."

She wondered if he had been there when Saedii had visited Bracca. It had only been a few months after Order 66. Had she been that close to another Jedi? That close to a friend in hiding?

"There are others out there," Saedii said quietly, glancing at the empty hall.

Cere was suddenly hanging onto her every word. "Others?"

"Masters Skywalker and Kenobi. And Ahsoka Tano – who's been promoted to Jedi Knight."

The rigid lines of Cere's face broke into an awed and distant smile. "Skywalker and Kenobi were the best of us. And little Ahsoka Tano – such a brilliant fighter, even from a young age."

"They're fighting against the Empire."

"Then the Empire will fall."

There was no question in Cere's voice. No uncertainty. She believed whole-heartedly in Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka. Just as Saedii did.

"There is hope for our brothers and sisters. For the future of our order," Cere said sadly.

Her tone was full of hope and resignation. It wiped the small smile from Saedii's face as she worked the hidden meaning from it.

The Jedi would live on.

But Cere would not.

"You'll make it out, too," Saedii promised. "If I'm leaving, then so are you."

"My death waits for me in these tombs. I accepted this long ago," Cere said calmly.

"I won't let you –"

"There are greater battles to wage, Saedii. Save your strength for them."

The scrape of metal on stone made the two of them fall silent. Far away, footsteps began to descend down the stone steps.

Ice crept along Saedii's veins. She'd just returned from the stone room. They couldn't bring her back there. Not yet.

The Force went black around them. All the light that had pulsed feebly within the current of the Force was consumed by a darkness so intent – so absolute – that it became nothing but a faint memory. Goosebumps raised along Saedii's arms as the cold drained out, leaking into the shadows that nipped along at her flesh.

Something terrible was coming. Something evil.

She knew what it was before she saw it.

A low, rasping breath carried down the hall. Shadows raced forward, announcing his presence as the heavy footsteps slowed. It felt like all the light and life had drained from the hall.

"Master Junda," a deep, carrying voice said. It was twisted by a machine – hardly even human.

Saedii had heard that voice before. She went still.

Into the light stepped Darth Vader.

He was taller than he'd appeared in the hologram. More menacing. Powerful shoulders stood rigid with military precision. Black gloved hands hung loosely at his sides within easy reach of a lightsaber.

A familiar lightsaber.

Saedii stared at it, tracing the long hilt. The end tapered into a rounded cone, which assisted with the balance. Soft leather wrapped around its center was worn for the hand that had held it.

It was Plo's lightsaber.

Everything seemed to fade as the black helmet turned in her direction. As she reached out into the Force, through the cold and shadows, and felt a very faint warmth there. A flicker of peace and serenity, dying like embers in a smoking pit.

Plo.

It was him. She could sense him. His presence.

Equal parts dread and excitement flooded her. Even with Krell's memories looming fresh, the knowledge he was here set her body at ease. On an instinctual level, she recognized him as someone safe.

But there was something strange. Something...off. Plo's presence was a mere echo, like the one she'd felt walking among Kit Fitso's cruiser. A reminder of what once had been, lingering behind.

Like a ghost.

"Padawan Synn," Darth Vader – Plo – rasped.

"Plo." Saedii's voice was not her own. Her eyes stung. "Master...is that you?"

Cere's eyes had widened as she, too, sensed Plo's presence. She stood, lips bloodless and pale.

"The two of you have been given too much leniency. I have come to rectify this mistake," Darth Vader continued like they hadn't spoken.

From the shadows behind him, Krell and the Second Sister appeared. Neither were smiling and there was a dark bruise along Krell's jaw. Around his throat. Further back, a contingent of stormtroopers waited.

"Master, it's me," Saedii tried again.

The Sith turned to the troopers behind him. "Master Junda has worn out her usefulness. She is no longer needed."

Saedii leaned closer to the door, wincing at the chains that held her back. "No, don't!"

Several stormtroopers opened Cere's cell. There was a flash of blue as blaster fire erupted – a dozen shots in quick, rapid-fire succession. Pain echoed into the Force. The smell of blood flooded the hall.

No!

When they stepped away, Cere Junda was a heap on the ground. Her Jedi robes were speckled with blood.

"Cere!" Saedii cried, wrenching at her chain as she tried to see her friend. "Master Junda!"

Cere's chest was rising and falling rapidly. Shallowly. The Force that flickered around her was faint and fading. Dying.

"Her body will be added to the collection," Darth Vader ordered.

Krell lowered his head. "Yes, Master. It will be done."

"As for this one..."

Tears were collecting along Saedii's lash lines as she looked up and met Darth Vader's black gaze. Something tugged at her chest as she realized that it was Plo's eyes that hid behind the mask – Plo's eyes that stared at her chained and bloodied and felt no remorse.

"You have failed to turn her, Grand Inquisitor," Darth Vader droned.

Krell looked only at the floor.

Darth Vader stared down at her. The Force around him felt like it grew darker, trailing out from his body like a cloak. Creeping forward until it began to consume her. Blanketing her from the ground up.

"Master," Saedii whispered. "Please. It's me."

"She belongs to me," Darth Vader announced to the others behind him.

The darkness that had flooded around her crept up over her head. Swallowing her until everything – her cell, Cere's gasping body, even the cold and dangerous figure of the Sith Lord himself – faded away into nothing.

The last thought Saedii had was of her Master's name.

Plo.