2

Ice cold water dripped down Saedii's chin. When it splashed into the metal sink beneath her, it was the color of eggplant. Dark purple. Stained with blood.

She splashed more water on her face until it finally ran clear. By then, her face had gone numb from the cold. Her fingers, too.

The faucet gave a rusty groan as she shut the water off. Leftover drips rang against the metal, the only sound in the otherwise silent bathroom except for Saedii's breathing.

She looked up in the mirror. Her gaunt face stared back. Any baby fat Saedii had was gone now, replaced with sharp lines along her cheeks. Under her jaw. Dark, stark bags pulled at her eyes. It was like she had aged several years in the span of one. Where before she'd looked young for her age, now she thought she looked older than seventeen.

Her wet hair was pulled back in a single braid down the back of her head. No decoration. No creativity to it. Just a practical look. The Daethii braids that she had practiced for years – that she loved to incorporate in new, fun ways – had no place here among the Inquisitors.

Bruises riddled her tired face. Some older ones along her jaw and neck, from when Krell had been angered by her slow speed last week, and dark purple ones that were slowly blossoming to life now.

Both of her eyes were rimmed in bruises. There was a cut along the ridge of her cheek. One across the bridge of her nose. Her lower lip had been split, too.

Gingerly, Saedii reached up and ran her fingers along her nose. Testing for any breaks. She was painfully aware of what broken noses felt like by now. Krell had broken it three times in the past year. The last time had been so bad that Saedii had needed a surg pod to fix it.

She winced but, thankfully, didn't feel any breaks. A small miracle.

A slow, shuddering breath crept out before she could help it. Thoughts of Jek were trying to creep in. Threatening to make her relive the horrible, gut-wrenching moment where he'd pleaded for her mercy. But these memories were better saved for later, when she was alone.

Her day wasn't done yet.

Slowly, Saedii undressed, wincing at the aches and pains in her body. More bruises were revealed with every inch of skin that was bared. Along her back. Her shoulders. Arms and legs. There was even a nasty one on her stomach, shaped like Krell's boot where it had caught her unawares during last night's training.

Her body had changed, too. With all the intense training that Krell put her through, she'd become pure muscle. Arms and legs sculpted. Core tight. Powerful. In theory, it was the best shape she'd ever been in in her life. Even if she'd never felt more weak and broken.

A new pile of clothes was sitting on the sink beside her. Dread curled in her stomach as she looked at the folded black leather. The final mark of her status as an Inquisitor.

Once she put on those clothes, there was no going back.

Thoughts of Omega flooded her mind – of Omega in a cell. Of her being hurt. Calling for help.

Feeling numb, Saedii slid the clothes on.

The leather was tight against her limbs. Tighter than her Jedi robes had been, even the fighting ones. Nearly every inch of her was covered – long sleeves, long pants, boots buckled up to her knees, thick black gloves on her hands. The leather was warmer than the other clothes, at least. Even if they did feel a bit suffocating.

Black pieces of armor were waiting for her as well. A back and chest plate that covered her from neck to navel. Vambraces that laced up to her elbows.

And a helmet.

Silver lines traced the eyes of the helmet, running down the cheeks in jagged streaks so that they looked like tears.

It was a taunt, Saedii knew. Krell knew how hard this was for her. How much she had despised the moment where she was truly welcomed into the Inquisitors. He gave her a helmet to match her mourning.

She ran a hand over it, shivering at the cold feel of the steel. It was thick and heavy, like the Clones' armor.

A gloved hand banged against the fresher door. "Hurry up!" the grating voice of the Third Brother called irritably.

Straightening, Saedii took one last look at her haggard reflection and slid the helmet over her head.

Everything around her was immediately painted in shades of red. Little numbers danced along the edge of her vision, giving her oxygen levels and temperature and wind speed. When she breathed, it was magnified ten times louder than usual.

Panic filled her. A sudden sense of claustrophobia threatened, and she was overcome with a violent desire to take it off.

The banging started again. Louder. If she lingered any longer, she risked consequences.

Saedii shoved the claustrophobic feeling down deep and urged herself to breathe. To walk to the door and lift a hand to the handle. To walk out into the hall like she wasn't crumbling apart at the bleeding seams.

The Third Brother regaled her with an acidic look. He was Palliduvan – chalky pale and with black lines that ran over his eyes and down his face. When he observed her, his eyes went flat black, like chips of slate.

"Took you long enough." His voice was blunt. Biting.

Saedii said nothing.

"Come. The Grand Inquisitor is waiting for us." Without a look back in her direction, the Third Brother started off down the hall. He knew Saedii would follow.

The two followed the serpentine path of the main hall in Fortress Inquisitorious. This deep within the compound, there were no windows. No light besides the dim red glow that lit along the ceilings and floors. Beneath their feet, cold stone glistened in the damp air.

Heavy metal doors rimmed in rust passed on either side. Some, Saedii knew, were facilities for the resident Inquisitors – dorms and training rooms and weapons arsenals and a library. Others, Saedii had never been allowed to see, but knew hid all kinds of terrible secrets. Secrets she wasn't eager to learn.

The Third Brother led her now to the lounge, where the other Inquisitors had their meals. Inside, it was a strange mix of bleak and ornate. A long table made of hewn obsidian sat beneath a massive chandelier. Black velvet couches waited in a corner, clustered around a side table of dark oak that was never used. Red lights ran along the walls, giving the room an eerie sort of glow.

Glass made up the back wall. A view of the darkened ocean stretched, showing flashes of sea creatures that swam by. This part of the fortress, Saedii had learned, was not above the waves but beneath. That was the secret of the Fortress. Most of it was hidden below.

Inside, a few other Inquisitors sat at the table. Krell, who crouched over a plate of food. The First Brother, who was so tall his head scraped the chandelier above. The Second Sister – a woman Saedii had known as Trilla Sudari back in the Order – had her feet kicked up in the seat beside her.

And Kalth, who scowled down at his own food.

They all looked up as Saedii and the Third Brother entered – all except Kalth, who pretended like they weren't there. A slow smile spread across Krell's face.

"Our new Sister," he said in a tone that felt like knives on glass. "Come take a seat."

Saedii hesitated. Usually, she was to stand along the wall and wait in silence and stillness until Krell had finished his meal. Often, he would make her wait for hours, dizzy with hunger and nauseated by the smell of fresh, hot food that swarmed the room around her.

It was another flex of power over her. Her place was there – along the wall. While they sat and ate and talked, Saedii would wait in silence until they'd finish and retreat to her cell, where she was given a ration bar. Sometimes two if Krell was feeling generous.

Apart from the rest.

A prisoner.

When Saedii didn't move, the Third Brother shoved her forward.

Mechanically, Saedii took the seat that Krell indicated – the one on his immediate left. Saedii recognized that it put her within striking distance. An inherent threat.

She sat stiffly in the seat. Back rigid. Waiting for whatever Krell had planned.

The Third Brother seemed amused as he took the seat on Saedii's other side, boxing her in. Again, that feeling of claustrophobia rose, winding tight around her throat like a vise. She forced herself to take in a slow breath.

"Take off your helmet, Sister," Krell crooned, deceptively pleasant. "You are among family here."

The word family almost made her flinch. Quickly, Saedii did as he asked, placing her helmet on the table before her, facing away.

Krell slid his plate before her. "Hungry?"

"No, Master," she said at once, even as the rich smell of fresh cooked meat and bread hit her nose. As her stomach ached with emptiness.

From his place down the table, Kalth was still staring daggers at his food. One of his hands tightened on his fork, bleaching his knuckles white.

"Come on, Sister. You're welcome to our food," Krell tempted.

Saedii said nothing. She knew better than to accept.

"No?" He feigned disappointment, sliding his plate back before him. "Well then. Suit yourself."

The Second Sister snickered.

Warm scents of fresh food filled the room so heavily that Saedii was sure she could taste it. On a table by the near wall, plates of cooked meat and fish, roasted vegetables, breads and cheese and fruit piled high. Cooked fresh just for the Inquisitors.

There were other personnel at the Fortress – cooks, mechanics, guards, and many others – who lived to serve the Inquisitors. They kept them comfortable and safe. Saedii rarely saw them. The workers had learned how to stay out of sight.

Smart on their part.

"The initiation was not nearly as exciting as I'd hoped. Dekkara had such promise, but he fought like a coward," the Third Brother said casually, eyes straying towards the First Brother.

The First Brother stiffened. It had been his job to train Jek. After the poor showing in the training room, Saedii knew that the First Brother would get hell for it. The Inquisitors loved tormenting each other almost as much as they loved to torment her.

"Died like one, too," the Second Sister added lightly.

Krell laughed. "My apprentice has learned much this year. Haven't you?"

"Yes, Master."

"Though you still have much to learn. That slip in the arena nearly lost you the match."

He was baiting her. Trying to push her to say something that he could punish her for. He knew she had caught him using the Force. Interfering.

Saedii lowered her head, hating that she had to show deference. "Yes, Master."

A flash of disappointment in Krell's gaze vanished before he could hide it. He'd been hoping she'd slip up. "We'll work on your balance at your next training session."

Don't react, that voice of caution hissed in her head as she nearly grimaced. Whatever Krell had planned for their next training session wouldn't be pleasant. He often found new and terrible ways to train her. Ways that often felt more akin to punishment than a lesson.

Down the table, Kalth's fork paused on his plate.

"Do you like your helmet?" Krell reached out, turning Saedii's helmet around so that it faced her. "I designed it for you myself."

"Yes, Master," Saedii said, even as the words tasted bitter on her tongue.

"I thought the tears were fitting. For your dead friends."

The other Inquisitors laughed, except for Kalth, who was staring hard at the table in front of him.

Before Saedii could help it, she snapped, "They're not dead."

Kalth's eyes flashed up to hers at the same moment her stomach dropped.

Karabast.

The blow came so fast Saedii didn't even have time to brace for it. Krell's fist landed on her sore cheek, catching her eye too. It was so powerful that it took her right out of her seat.

On the floor, she blinked, gingerly touching where he'd hit her. Fresh blood dampened her fingers. He'd split the wound open again. This time, she could feel as her eye began to swell as well.

Stupid. She knew better than to talk back. Saedii had learned this lesson the hard way her first week there. Krell didn't allow for snarky remarks.

She hadn't even wanted to speak. It had been a knee-jerk reaction. She knew better.

"Get up."

Krell's voice was dangerously low. A warning.

Saedii did as he asked, sliding back into her seat beside him. Her head felt perilously light.

Around the table, the other Inquisitors were watching in a delighted sort of silence. The Second Sister was smirking, eyes tracing the blood that drew down Saedii's cheek while the Third Brother chuckled darkly beneath his breath.

Kalth was the only one who wasn't smiling. He was looking at her indifferently. Stone-faced.

"I believe you misspoke, Twelfth Sister," Krell said in that dangerous tone. "What did you mean to say?"

Tasting blood, Saedii muttered, "Yes, Master."

"Speak up."

"Yes, Master," she said, louder this time.

Pleased, Krell turned back to his food. Saedii's cheek throbbed in time with her thundering heart as he finally, finally turned away from her and asked the First Brother, "So Brother, how does it feel to know you failed with Dekkara?"

The attention in the room shifted to the First Brother. As it did, Saedii looked up and caught Kalth's eye for the briefest of moments before he looked away.