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Blood dripping like a line in the sand
No chance of you ever coming back again
Kneel down when the vengeance comes
Cause this is the cup that you must drink from
-Sam Tinnesz, “The Hunter”
*****
Cere knew from the moment the Mantis landed in the arena that something was wrong.
In hindsight, it was quite the understatement. Something was far more than wrong , but a word did not exist yet to describe the dark shadow hovering over the arena, the filthy swear of surprise that had left Greez, her own horror at the scene below the cockpit.
“Holy shit,” the pilot muttered, far more toned down than what he had just said. “What happened?”
But then, Cere had heard footsteps sprinting up the ramp of the Mantis and into the ship. She had glanced back for a single second, caught a glimpse of Cal’s unique red hair, and yelled at Greez to get them out of there. Once they were out of the asteroid’s range, she loosed a breath of relief.
Said relief had quickly evaporated when she heard a slam, followed by angry shouting from Cal.
Cal didn’t shout .
She’d never even heard him raise his voice.
Greez wheeled at the same time as her. They only shared a brief look before shooting out of their seats and running to the back of the ship.
“Cal- “she started, before even registering what the hell was going on. BD, missing a leg and cowering back from the only person on the Mantis he cared about. Who was wearing a black Inquisitor’s uniform and who had tracked bloodied bootprints across the floor, who had raised a saber at her once again and caused her to raise her hands in defense. Whose face was bruised, a cuts on his jaw and temple, blood dried on the uniform.
“Kid!” Greez said. “What the hell happened back there?”
Its eyes flitted between her and Greez. The thing that looked like Cal but wasn’t Cal.
The thing whose eyes were yellow, bruised, and angry.
“Cal,” Cere said, “I- “
“Cal?” He chuckled. “Cal’s on sabbatical, Master Jedi. You’re talking to me now.”
Whatever words she had been about to say left her with a single breath. Her heart skipped a beat, and she remained frozen and unsure.
“Cere?” Greez whispered. “What’s going on?”
“It’s you,” Cere said, unsticking her voice. The Inquisitor tilted his head thoughtfully. “You’re the Fourth Brother.”
“Oh, you’re far smarter than you look,” he replied bitingly. “Or act, for that matter. Sending me off to do all these things by myself, right into the face of danger while you sit here, all comfortable and safe.” He scoffed. “It’s a wonder something like this hasn’t happened yet. And you.” His yellow eyes turned to Greez, and the pilot flinched back. “You’re famous down there. Have any explaining to do?”
Greez’s lips pinched tight. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. They’re an ugly group, huh? They smell like used droid oil?” He chuckled nervously, but the Fourth Brother’s face did not change. Greez quickly shut up.
“Cal- “Cere started again. His head whipped back to her, and she suddenly felt like a deer under the gaze of a wildcat. “Four, Fourth Brother, whatever you want to be called --- what happened down there?”
“You lied to me,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“What would you have- “Greez looked to her. “Cere, what’s he going on about?”
“Oh, she didn’t tell you, did she, captain?” The Fourth Brother chuckled again. “You like keeping your secrets, don’t you? Shame you pushed me to tell you all mine. Otherwise, how would you have bridged trust with someone like me?”
“What are you talking about?” The last she had heard from him before the arena, he was attempting to contact her and get down to the Tomb of Miktrull. It was there she had lost him. “What happened to you?”
He sighed. “Well, first off, the Empire knows about the holocron.” Cere swore internally. Greez’s eyes shot to her. “Which, as I’m sure you know, puts the entire mission at risk, depending on how much more careful you want to be with sending your greatest asset out on his own.” He waved the tip of his saber. “Because that’s all I am to you, aren’t I? Just as asset, a means to an end. You can’t use the Force, so you need someone who can. You continue to run and flee and hide from all your actions only to put others up to suffer the consequences so you never have to. You’re the reason we’re in this mess, but you just can’t admit that to yourself either. So you’ve left me to bear that burden.”
“I don’t like to repeat myself,” Cere said through gritted teeth, “but I will if I must: What are you talking about?”
“I had a nice chat with the Second Sister,” he replied calmly. “Trilla.”
Cere went cold. She lowered her hands, meeting the Fourth Brother’s eyes with her own. “What did she tell you?”
“Oh, only the horrible, awful truth you didn’t want me to know. As if it would be the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” His yellow eyes went cold. “You are the reason they ever found her. You betrayed her to the Empire.”
Greez’s eyes flitted from the Fourth Brother to Cere. She had long ago told the captain everything, but she was not sure that he understood the full magnitude of the situation until now. He knew a little of the two polarizing sides of the Force from Cere, that she had temporarily turned to the dark, but he was not fully processing what that meant until now.
Cere raised a hand. “Cal,” she began, trying to reach him somewhere underneath the thing standing in front of her, “she’ll say anything to jeopardize this mission.”
“Yet, I don’t hear any denial.” The Fourth Brother lifted the tip of the saber higher. A familiar cold feeling, one she had not felt since the torture chambers of Nur, trickled down her spine. “I want the truth, Cere, and I want it now. Of course, if that’s too difficult a task to do willingly, I have other methods, but you wouldn’t like them very much.”
Before Cere could speak, Greez waved his hands, moving between her and the Fourth Brother. “Hey, hey, hey!” he said. “You threatening her on my ship? You have no right to- “
“Shut up,” the Fourth Brother hissed, a ring to his voice. The cold chill spiked, and Greez’s mouth snapped shut. “Save me your incessant jabbering, or I’ll take your tongue.”
From the table behind him, BD quietly warbled, cowering farther back from the Fourth Brother.
Cere lightly placed a hand on Greez’s shoulder, urging him back. “Cal, she tried again, and his attention turned to her, “look, you have to understand- “
“You should’ve told me!” he bursted out suddenly, causing Greez to jump and Cere to draw in a sharp breath. “You should’ve told me once you knew what she had done to me! Don’t you think it would’ve been the perfect way to build trust? I told you everything! I- “his predatory expression dropped, and her mind conjured an image of the scared kid pressed against the wall of the Mantis, knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes brimming with tears, not long after she rescued him from Bracca. His saber deactivated, arm falling to his side. “I told you everything.”
“Cal,” she began once more, “I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to- “
“Sorry?” He scoffed in disbelief, throwing his hands in the air. “Seven years, this galaxy has given me nothing. Here I was, some naïve idiot for thinking that there’s good out there. Prauf is gone, by the hand of your Padawan. Ben has so many other better things to be doing. My master is dead. ” His voice broke with the last word. “I have nothing left of him except this.” He held up his saber. “Some stars-damned piece of hardware I ruined too. You were supposed to be there for her. You were supposed to protect her!” The Fourth Brother’s-
No. Not him. Somewhere, deep inside herself, she knew this was Cal saying all this.
“She had you!” he continued. “You left her to a fate worse than death --- and all you can say is sorry?”
“I don’t know!” Cere bursted back. “I didn’t know how to bring it up, how to tell you. I don’t know how… “she shook her head. “I just don’t know.” The knowledge of what she had did, what she had caused, haunted her day and night. Every single waking moment for the past seven years.
Cal shook his head, sighing disappointedly through his nose. “You pushed me to open up. Tell you everything about myself. You said I didn’t reciprocate what you gave to me, but you kept the greatest secrets of them all.” He slowly crossed the distance between them. “Cut yourself off rather than face the consequences. And for what?” He stopped in front of her. Cal was taller than her --- not by much, but still enough she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. “Afraid of becoming like the monster you created?” He paused. “For just a little while, I thought there was someone else in these worlds that saw something other than a failure.”
“Cal.” The urge to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder rose, but she quickly shoved it down, the desire to keep said hand overtaking it. “I do. I do see more than that in you. I see it more in you than I ever did in myself.”
“Do you still see it?”
The question took her so aback that she physically flinched.
“I sense it, you know.” Before he turned to move away from her again, Cal’s face changed, slipping back into the Fourth Brother. “That hope dying within you every time I open my mouth.” He turned back. “You saw what happened at the arena. Did you really think I was some innocent boy who was just way in over his head with all of it? I’m sure you understand what I told you once. The dark side --- it never goes away.”
If he could sense hope dying with every word, then surely he could sense her heart breaking as well. With each and every one, it shattered an inch, more and more. I understand, she wanted to reply. I understand more than you could possibly know. She knew what it was like to be nothing more than an angry shadow of yourself, a vengeful wraith aimlessly wandering the galaxy, the rage having nowhere to go. Having it pent up inside yourself and leave it to grow and grow and grow with no way of stopping it.
She had spent years in that state. But she could not live the rest of her life that way.
Cere did not even know how to explain herself, but she would try. He would accept nothing at the moment, but there was nothing else she could do.
“When I was captured by the Empire,” she started, “I resisted. Believe me, I did, I tried. I swore to myself that I would die before I would talk. But then this… dark shadow came.” Cere was not sure how to describe it, the twisted metal monster that had emerged from the void. “He was worse than any nightmare I could have imagined.”
Something flickered across the Fourth Brother’s face, but she did not have the chance to process it before it was gone.
“And I still fought, but in the end, I came apart.” Shame filled her at the thought, how easily the words had spilled out of her mouth when it all had become too much. How she had led them to her innocent Padawan and the Younglings without a second thought if it meant that all of it would stop. “I gave them Trilla.”
He crossed his arms. “It’s inevitable, isn’t it? We’ll all break someday. It’s just a matter of when.”
Cere shook her head, crossing the distance between them. “Tell me you don’t really believe that. Look- “she finally dared to lay her hands on his shoulders, ignoring how she suddenly felt like prey underneath a predator’s yellow glare” -the Cal I know is somewhere in there. And if he is, he knows there’s a chance we can still save others on the holocron. If we find them, no one will have to go through what you went through again.”
“Are you going to keep telling yourself that until you actually believe it?” He shoved her arms downward off his shoulders. Cere jumped and reeled back. “Your hope is misguided. Don’t keep making the same mistakes.”
She held eye contact for several silent moments, refusing to back down. Their stare-off was only interrupted by a beeping radiating from the cockpit. Cere still did not turn her eyes away from Cal as Greez’s footsteps hurried away. “We’re getting an encrypted message from Kashyyyk!” he called.
Cal broke first, glancing over her shoulder before pushing past her over to the holotable. A moment later, a hologram of a green-clad Partisan, Mari Kosan, appeared. “Four,” the recording began, “we found Tarfful, and he is willing to meet you. But that’s not all.” Cere’s sense of dread grew as the Partisan continued, “The Empire overran our position at the refinery. Saw retreated offworld. Some of us have joined the Wookiee fighters in the forests. Be careful.” The message fizzled out.
Cal’s eyes remained trained on the empty space where it had been before he turned to Cere. “Is it still safe?”
“Is what?”
“Is it still safe for me to trust you with the holocron, knowing what I know now? ”
“Cal, I- “
“The truth, Cere. Will you sell those children out to save yourself if it comes to it? Me?” He stepped up to her. “I only agreed to this ludicrous, batshit insane idea because I thought you saw some spark of light within me that so few have even tried to look for. I ask you again --- do you still see it? When you’re ready to answer, you know where to find me.” And with that, he pushed past her and to the back of the ship.
She stood there for a moment before making her way back to the comms. Greez weakly said her name, but she ignored him, opting for the white noise that filled her ears as she slipped the headset on. It was better for thinking.
Cere placed her head in her hands, pressing her thumbs against her temples. She had seen the slaughter at the arena. She had heard the rumors of the Fourth Brother, who was nothing more than a vicious, rabid animal willing to tear anything and anyone apart without a hint of remorse.
She refused to believe he was that person anymore.
Cal was trying. Stars, he was trying so hard to get away from it all.
But the dark side always had a way of dragging you back.
She glanced toward the rear of the Mantis. There was no way of explaining herself, not one that he would accept. He barely took the meager one she had just given him.
The Second Sister had tried to kill him. Trilla had tried to kill him. She had wanted to tell him the truth after learning the fact, but she held herself back. She did not want him to react badly to it.
What a turn of events that ended up being.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to sink into the horrible memories of her escape from Nur. Of seeing what they had done to Trilla, of some invisible limit within her giving. Of losing control and slaughtering anyone in her path.
I’ve killed people, Cere.
I have too, she desperately wanted to tell him. She knew, she knew, everything that was eating Cal from the inside.
She remembered passing through the fortress’s prison, the holding cells lining the walls and stretching up several stories above. She remembered passing one filled with small bodies, pressed tightly up against each other as some semblance of comfort.
She remembered a terrified little red-haired boy, reaching out a hand against the forcefield. “Please,” he had begged weakly and hoarsely. “Help us… “
She had turned to him. He had cowered away.
She’d left them behind.
***
It was not until he removed the blood-stained gloves that BD finally semi-warmed back up to him, at least enough for Cal to lay a hand on his head. Besides, Cal himself was getting sick of the gloves. He could do nothing about the stains on the black uniform, seeing as he had no other change of clothing. Blood and gore had never been a bother to him, especially when compared to some of the other Inquisitors who, despite having killed before, balked at the sight of severed limbs and beheaded corpses. It was the dry, scratchiness of it that was bothering him.
He scoured through the Mantis, searching for three things: a small container he found laying in the corner, hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet underneath the fresher’s sink, and dish soap he hijacked from the kitchen. The combination of the peroxide and soap, along with cold water, would remove any stain from clothing. He’d picked the trick up on Bracca, and it had yet to fail him.
He dropped the container in the back of the Mantis, underneath the workbench. He made his way back to where BD was when he noticed Greez hovering by the entrance of the cockpit, staring at him like a deer in the headlights.
“What?” Cal snapped.
The Latero jumped. “You- you tracked blood across my floor.”
“Oh, I did?” He sighed. “Well… I guess you’re just going to have to get used to it.” With that, he swept BD into his arms and swiftly departed from the room.
He gently laid BD onto the workbench, placing his leg next to him. Cal tilted his head, inspecting the damage. “They got you good,” he commented, noting the gaping hole and sparking wires where BD’s leg once was. “You didn’t happen to notice any extra wires sitting around?”
Cal received no response as he ducked underneath the workbench, pilfering through the boxes and crates. His search for wire proved to be unfruitful. So, he gathered the tools he would need and stood back up, setting them on the table. “Okay- “he grabbed a pair of cutters and reached for BD, as he did not recall sitting the little droid back so far on the table” -so I didn’t find any wire, so I’ll just have to make-do with what- “
BD scooted even farther back, so far he almost tipped off the edge of the workbench.
Cal retracted his hand back, slamming the cutters down. “Really?” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “The things I do for you, droid. The thing I’m trying to do for you. The least you could afford is to allow me to help you.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Unless you’re fine with hobbling around pathetically for the rest of whatever miserable existence you have left.” He was an older droid, anyway. Without proper maintenance, a droid could not last longer than their given life expectancy. He’d have to have been on Bogano for years and years without anyone other than himself to-
Cal pulled himself back to the present, letting out a deep breath. He squatted down to BD’s level, crossing his arms and resting them on the workbench. “Look,” he began. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. Just let me fix your leg, and then you can go be scared all you want.” He shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s not the first time.”
In the lingering moments it took BD to response, it occurred to Cal that he could have always just switched the droid off anyway.
Would have made the process much easier.
Finally, BD scooted a little closer to him.
It did not take Cal long, despite having never worked on a BD droid before. Most droid schematics were the same anyway, something about interchangeable parts among manufacturers. Besides, he had always been rather good with mechanics and electronics. His experience on Bracca had a huge hand in it, but he’d enjoy it long before then. Master Tapal used to find him pieces of scrap the mechanics were finished with lest Cal attempt to take the Albedo Brave apart, and Ben had found an old, disassembled engine he’d passed along to Cal.
About half an hour later, Cal stepped back as BD pushed himself to his feet. The droid clenched his clamped feet in and out a few times, then hopped back and forth. He glanced up, then bobbed his head up in down in what Cal assumed to be a nod.
Cal hummed to himself, satisfied with his work, then gathered the tools and starting to kneel down underneath the workbench again.
A sharp pain spasmed through his entire torso. Cal dropped to one knee, tools falling from his suddenly limp fingers. It lingered across, like needles driving themselves into him. Cal’s vision blurred before his eyes. Slowly, he lowered himself back against the workbench leg, but that only caused a stabbing sensation against his sternum. Cal choked on his next inhale. With the sharp movement, it sent another painful spasm through his body.
He was not sure how long he sat there, arms wrapped around his middle, waiting through the spasm. As he fell out of it, he finally realized how much he hurt. Kashyyyk, the Second Sister, and the arena in quick succession had done a number on him. He was going to be sorely bruised for the next little while, but that he could deal with.
However, the origin of the spasms was familiar. Everything since Bracca had aggravated his old injuries, the ones that should have killed him.
There was a pair of eyes looking at him. Cal glanced up to see BD peering off the edge of the table.
“What?” he snapped. The droid ducked back.
He sat on the ground, head resting against the workbench leg, for a bit longer before pulling himself off the ground, gathering the tools, and placing them back in their respective boxes where he found them.
He was an Inquisitor, but he wasn’t a monster, for stars’ stake. At least not like that.
“You fixed him.”
Cal’s attention was drawn to where Greez was standing in the doorway.
He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. “Well… “he shrugged. “Considering the incredible state of newness your tool set is in- “he held up a pair of safety wire pliers he had been using” -it’s a wonder you’re ship still runs.”
Greez shrugged. “I don’t- I don’t do my own maintenance,” he admitted as if it were a capital sin.
Cal hummed. “Clearly.” He turned the pliers over in his fingers. “I like these. I’m keeping them.”
Greez held up his hands, and cold tingled at the base of Cal’s neck. “Fine by me. I don’t see myself using them very much. I- I don’t even know what they are.” He chuckled shakily.
Cal fixed him with a disgusted look. “You’re a coward.”
“...what?”
Cal pushed himself off the workbench. Greez took a step back. “I sense it, you know.” He continued to slowly cross the distance between them. Realizing he could not move anymore without escaping the conversation, Greez dropped his eyes down. “You can stop flinching every time you look at me. If I wanted to hack you into pieces, I would’ve done it already. It’s not off the table entirely, so don’t piss me off.”
“Well, actually, kid, that’s what I came to talk to you about.” He rocked forward on his toes, like a nervous child admitting to a parent they made a mistake. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and her, but I don’t think it’s the right time for this.”
Cal stopped but a few feet from him. “Oh, you don’t think it’s the right time?” He huffed out a small laugh. “Because the world has certainly always wanted your opinion, hasn’t it?”
“Hey!” Greez peeled his eyes off the floor. “Don’t you be talking to me that way! Look, I don’t care what you’ve been through. At least for now, I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. All I wanted to do was come back here and talk to you.” He pointed to BD. “I saw what you did in that arena, and it gave that little droid a right fright. No wonder he’s scared of you. No wonder I am! It’s like walking on eggshells every time I’m around you. You’re like a bomb just begging to go off. And y’know what?” In a few quick strides, he pushed by Cal and swiped BD off the workbench. “I’m sorry he had to be the one to witness it! I’m sorry the last hope of the Jedi is some sob like you. And don’t you ever draw a weapon on Cere again, you hear me?”
“Or what?” Cal dared to challenge.
“Or I’ll send you back to the Empire. No hesitation.” And with that, he stepped out of the room and was gone.
***
The reek of death filled the arena, so strong that not even Trilla’s helmet could filter it out.
Bodies laid strewn across the floor of the arena. A head here, an arm there, a lower half over there as well. Fauna of different kinds, a few of which she swore she had seen on Zeffo, while others she did not recognize. A few humanoid bodies scattered among the mess too.
Trilla barely suppressed a shudder. Death was a friend to her, but the idea of such brutal murder was unfathomable. She preferred her kills clean.
“Second Sister,” a Purge Trooper said, drawing her attention. Trilla was knelt next to a body, one which had been stabbed multiple times over. A bloodied knife lay next to him, and the ground was pooled with blood beneath. She had done her best to not step in it but had failed in that task.
The blood, however, had yet to dry. She must have just missed them.
She stood. The Purge Trooper dipped his head, then stepped aside. Behind, two other Troopers were holding the arms of an Umbaran man who was currently begging for his life. “Please, you have to let me go, I’m innocent, I didn’t- I’m not- “
“Shut him up,” Trilla ordered to the first trooper.
The man turned, and drove the butt of his blaster rifle into the Umbaran’s gut, silencing him immediately. “Quiet!” the Trooper snarled. The Umbaran whimpered frightfully.
Trilla stepped forward to survey him. He glanced up at her with wide eyes and opened his mouth again.
She jerked her head to the side and stepped back. The Purge Troopers dragged the whimpering Umbaran over to the pile of blood and dropped him in it. As Trilla made her way to the other side of the body, he attempted to move away from it, but the Troopers placed their hands on his shoulders and held him firmly in place.
“You are Sorc Tormo,” Trilla said.
The Umbaran pursed his lips.
“It wasn’t a question,” she continued. “I know who you are. However, my question is- “she prodded the body with the toe of her boot” -do you know what did this?”
Sorc Tormo’s lower lip began to wobble.
“If you tell me,” she began as a pathetic sob escaped him, “you will face reward from the Empire.”
And it all spilled from him.
“I found your Inquisitor!” he burst out. “I had him here, in the arena! I found he was traveling with Greez Dritus, and the damned Latero owes me money! I wanted the Mantis, but then I learned about him. I thought taking the Inquisitor would be payment enough, even if I had to send out a bounty hunter to get him! But I’d- I’d heard rumors about him. The way he killed.” A haunted look came over Tormo’s eyes. “But no story could ever do it justice.”
No. The Fourth Brother’s brutality had shocked even the other Inquisitors. “Do you have a recording of this event?”
He nodded. “Up there.” He lifted his cuffed hands to the top box of the arena. “It’s sitting on the control panel.”
Trilla studied him for a moment. “Take him to the ship,” she ordered. Tormo’s eyes widened, and he fervently shook his head. “If he has such a history with this Greez Dritus, then he can help us find him.”
“No, wait, please!” The Purge Troopers dragged Tormo to his feet and off to the ship, his pleads fading away.
Trilla nudged the body again, eyes lingering on the stab wounds. Her and the Ninth Sister had been assigned to see the dropping of a Separatist Lucrehulk onto Bracca. For what reason, she could not fathom, but the Empire always had some lowly job for the Inquisitors to do, just to keep them busy. She had expected it to be another boring run.
She had not expected the tip. Some scrapper swearing he had seen something he could not explain. The Inquisitors took notice of such sights. He had told them what group was working on the Republic Cruiser that day, their schedule, and what train they took when leaving the scrapyard. The only thing left to do was round them up and out the Jedi.
She had not expected to find a traitor. A traitor who should have been dead for three years.
She had not expected to encounter the one who had betrayed her.
Staring at the body, a small smile came to her face. To find the Fourth Brother --- Cal Kestis, as he wanted to call himself now --- would be satisfying. But there was something more.
I’m coming, Master, she said to herself, stepping over the body and following after the Purge Troopers. You can't run for much longer.