3

Nighttime was the worst.

Everything in Saedii's cell was always damp. That small window overhead – what Saedii had once considered to be a blessing, a rare glimpse of the outside world – always let in a steady stream of fine mist and a stiff wind off the water. Moisture collected along the walls, pooling in puddles along the floor. The thin sleeping mat was waterlogged and dampened her clothes within minutes.

It was bitterly cold. Even in her new black leathers, Saedii curled into a ball and shivered against the wind that wound in through her window.

At night, she had time to think. To dwell on her many hurts. The fresh hells that she'd witnessed throughout the day. And to think of her family – of Omega, locked in an Empire stronghold far away, of the Batch, who most likely thought she was dead.

During the day, Saedii was in survival mode. Thoughts like these were pushed down deep into the chasm of her mind. But at night, when she was given time to rest, they always came creeping out of the dark.

Tonight, her thoughts were on Jek. On the expression on his face as her lightsaber had pierced his heart.

Saedii had done many terrible things since she'd arrived here. But taking Jek's life had to be the worst.

Killing an innocent went against the Jedi code. Life, they had been taught, was precious and to be protected. To take a life must be done with compassion and reflection. By killing Jek – a brother, unarmed and defenseless – she had broken one of the most sacred of her vows.

It was a crime that would have seen her expelled from the Order.

She pulled her legs in tighter. Wrapped her arms just a little harder around herself. Saedii didn't often allow herself to think about life beyond the Fortress. She'd given up long ago hoping to escape. But she thought now, briefly, about what would happen if she did get out.

Obi-Wan and the others would take her lightsabers. Would strip her of her rank. She wouldn't be allowed to remain a Jedi after what she'd done.

And what would Hunter and the others say, if they had seen her? Would they fear her? Would they hate her as much as she hated herself?

Her thoughts were enough to drive her mad. Circling endlessly in a loop. Each more vicious than the last. But there was one thought that was enough to stop the endless torture.

Omega.

Something warm burned in Saedii's chest as she thought of her friend. Her sister. Because of Saedii's sacrifice, Omega was allowed to live another day.

Thoughts of Omega were the only thing that kept Saedii going. No matter what terrible thing she was forced to witness, to do – remembering that it was for Omega justified it all. For her, Saedii would do anything. Even tear her soul apart and set the galaxy on fire. If it meant that Omega could live, she would pay the price.

Not for the first time, Saedii wondered where Omega was. If she was scared. Sometimes, Krell would taunt her by showing her footage of Omega in a little cell, curled up in a bed in the corner. In these brief flashes, Omega always looked so small in the tiny square of her room.

Wherever she was, Saedii hoped Omega was warm. That she was being fed. And that she wasn't forced to endure what Saedii was.

A door hissed open down the hall. Saedii sat up at the sound, turning towards her door. She knew who it was.

Kalth appeared like a shadow in the doorway. His expression was unreadable tonight, eyes cold and distant as they looked her over. In his hands were a roll of bandages and some stitching equipment.

He visited her every night. Most times, he sat outside the door and said nothing. Just kept her company. Others, he would tend to her wounds, bringing her bacta where he could.

The door opened, letting him in before it shut again. Kalth spread out a sheet on the floor before depositing his equipment.

His first visit had come the night after Saedii's first training with Krell.

Bruised, sore, cold – Saedii sat in her cell and tried hard not to cry. The sight of the black stone around her was formidable and she wondered just how long this Fortress had stood. How many ocean storms it had seen battering its sides.

Tonight, a terrible storm raged outside. The wind screamed through her window, dousing her with spitting rain. Already, her clothes were soaked through. Hair heavy and damp. Her whole body shivered violently with every blow of the wind.

She was so tired, but she was afraid to sleep. Afraid that Krell would come in the night and catch her unaware, doling out some new and terrible punishment. Already, her ribs ached from the blows he'd landed today. Her face, too.

Her eyes blinked heavily as she resisted. Thankfully, the cold hard stone beneath her wasn't comfortable, which aided her efforts to stay awake.

A shadow moved by the door.

Saedii looked up, surprised to find Kalth standing there.

He was frowning. "I...dreamed of you last night."

She said nothing. Just waited.

"We were in a hall," he continued, hand reaching down to toy with the bracelet along his wrist. "You gave me this."

"It wasn't a dream. It was a memory," Saedii said gently. After a long, terrible day of training, she didn't have the energy to be mad at him.

His frown deepened. "I have no such memory. My time with the Jedi was painful. I hated it."

"You loved being a Jedi," Saedii argued. "All you ever wanted was to become a Master. To get your name in the history books."

Kalth's jaw worked. The way he looked at her was strange – angry, as if he blamed her for this confusing dream, but also confused. He didn't know what to believe.

Saedii stood, wincing at the sharp pain in her side. She came to stand before him at the door, red light shimmering between them. "I gave it to you for your twelfth birthday. I made it from leftover scraps of leather from Caleb Dume's Padawan braid. Do you remember him?"

A sharp shake of his head.

"He was our friend. A year or two older than us. He was promoted to be Deepa Bilaba's Padawan two years before we were."

Kalth said nothing but his eyes spoke of the turmoil in his mind. Of the war that waged there.

Saedii continued, "We were really happy for him. We saw him off for his first assignment, but we didn't see him again before the war ended."

"He is a traitor," Kalth insisted.

"No. He was our friend."

Furious, Kalth took an angry step back. Glaring at her like his inner struggle was all her fault. "I have no friends. And neither do you."

Then, he'd turned and marched back down the hall.

As angry as he'd been, Kalth had returned the next night and nearly every night since. His visits were the only way that Saedii had survived the long and daunting nights.

"Let me see," he said softly, reaching for her face.

Saedii turned to face him, grimacing as his hands brushed against the bruises on her face. He was gentle as his gloved finger fan along the thin cut in her lip and along her cheek. As he traced the line of her black eye.

Her face felt cold when his hands dropped away. She watched as he took a strip of gauze and sprayed it with disinfectant before he reached up to dab at her lip.

It stung, but Saedii endured. She knew that otherwise, she would risk infection.

"How did I come to join the Order?" Kalth asked suddenly.

It was often like this – questions that sprang from nowhere. Not for the first time, Saedii wondered just what went on in his mind. How fractured it had become since he'd been taken by the Inquisitors.

"The same as all Jedi," Saedii said stiffly, trying to keep her lip still as he cleaned the blood from it. "Master Yoda discovered you on Alderaan when you were a baby and brought you to the Temple."

"He took me," Kalth said with heat.

Saedii fought the smile that flickered at her mouth. "No. Your parents gave you willingly."

He dropped the bloody gauze onto the sheet, reaching for a small silver cannister. "Why would they do that?"

"It was what most did when they found their child was Force sensitive." Saedii held still as he sprayed bacta across her split lip. "They wanted you to achieve your full potential."

Scowling, Kalth snapped, "That's not how I remember it."

"How do you remember it then?"

"The Jedi came to my village and took me from my mother's arms. She begged for me, but they slaughtered her and my father."

Saedii looked up and met his cold eyes. "Your mother gave you willingly to Master Yoda. She and your father still live on Alderaan. The Jedi didn't harm anyone in your village."

Kalth held her gaze for a long moment before he reached down for another strip of gauze. "I wrote to my mother all the time, but the Jedi kept her letters from me. They never let me see her again."

"No, Kalth," Saedii said quietly. "You never wrote to your parents. You loved being a Jedi. You never missed your old life or thought of your parents. You were happy at the Temple."

"Why would I be happy with traitors and kidnappers?"

"We didn't see them that way."

Angry, Kalth pressed a little too hard on the wound at Saedii's cheek. At her wince, the intense expression on his face smoothed. "Did...I ever talk about my parents?"

"No," Saedii admitted.

He put the bloody gauze beside the other and picked up the stitching equipment. With practiced movements, he threaded the medical twine through the delicate needle before reaching for her face.

She'd grown so use to pain that the first poke of the needle was like nothing to her. Saedii held still as he threaded through the first stitch, pulling it tight.

"I don't understand," he said finally. "Why would I just forget my family?"

"The Jedi was your family. I was your family," Saedii said, not even daring to move her eyes to look at him. Not with him stitching her face.

He was quiet for a moment. Then, reluctantly, he said, "I had another dream last night."

Dreams were what Kalth called them. He was reluctant to admit they were glimpses of his past – his real past, not the one that he believed now. Memories that had been buried or forgotten struggling to reemerge.

"What of?" Saedii asked.

"A courtyard with a garden. There were lots of flowers from far away planets – some that were bigger than me, others that glowed at night."

The Temple gardens. Saedii and Kalth had often walked there together in between lessons or lounged along the benches when the weather was nice. It made sense that he would remember them. They had visited often.

"You and I were sitting...laughing," he said, as if the concept was alien to him.

Saedii couldn't help herself. She snorted. "Believe it or not, you used to have a great sense of humor. You were very funny. You even made stern Master Windu laugh once."

Disbelief drew Kalth's mouth down.

"Tell me," Saedii began carefully. "In this dream, were you unhappy?"

Reluctantly, Kalth admitted, "No."

"Then why do you believe that you hated your time with the Jedi?"

"Because these are just dreams," he insisted with heat. There was a sharp snik as he clipped the twine. Tying off her stitches. "They're not real."

"They are real, Kalth. You know it."

"They're not."

"That's why you come here at night and ask me about them. You wouldn't ask if you didn't think they could be true."

Scowl deepening, Kalth sprayed more bacta spray on her cheek. By morning, both wounds should be scabbed over. And hopefully within a few days, they would heal entirely. Saedii hoped they wouldn't scar. She already had enough scars to last her a lifetime.

"What did I do?" he asked suddenly. Off-hand, like he wasn't really interested, even though his eyes were intent on her face. "To make Windu laugh?"

Saedii actually smiled – a rare sight these days. "You told a joke about the Chancellor. Something about his uncanny likeness to a Sinnateen."

Instead of laughing, deep lines of anger etched into Kalth's face. "I would have never said such a thing of our Emperor."

"It was just a joke."

"Emperor Palpatine is our leader," Kalth said with fire. "He is irreproachable. You lie."

"I don't," Saedii said, glancing at him. "And your Emperor is not blameless. He is responsible for the fall of our order. For the deaths of thousands of innocent lives."

"The Emperor is a hero."

"He is a murderer."

Kalth abruptly got to his feet. "You do not speak of him in such a way. You are an Inquisitor. We live to serve the Emperor."

Saedii held his gaze. "I may wear the black clothes, but I will never be an Inquisitor, Kalth."

Even if she could never be a Jedi again, she knew this with certainty. In her heart, she would never accept the mantel of the Twelfth Sister.

At once, Saedii could see that she'd pushed him too far. Without looking back at her, Kalth scooped the medical equipment into the sheet and snatched it from the ground. He left without another word.

A low sigh escaped before Saedii could help it. Often times, their nights ended like this. Whatever the Inquisitors had done to Kalth's mind was powerful. He struggled against the truth, even when Saedii could sense there was a part of him that wanted to believe what she said.

But she was making progress. Gingerly, she reached up to touch the line of stitches that he'd done for her. They were in a neat row. Nearly as perfect as Crosshair's.

Even if he tried to hide it, there was a part of him that cared for her. Even if he didn't understand why or how. It was why she always answered his questions when he came to visit at night. Why she tried to help him work through the snarl of his fractured memories to find the truth.

Her friend was still in there. Saedii was certain of it.

And she wasn't going to give up on him yet.