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Encountering a rogue Jedi by pure happenstance seemed like a stroke of utter luck, a chance for Trilla and Cal to get back into the Grand Inquisitor’s good graces after last week’s failure. To find a Jedi meditating all by himself on an overlook above a placid lake, alone and visibly blind, it had been perfect. Until the Jedi had recognized Cal through the Force, knowing him as a friend from before the Purge. Until he’d given a rather impassioned plea for Cal to abandon the Dark side and join him in the Light and fight against the Empire, his face falling when Cal flippantly refused. Until Trilla had gotten distracted just long enough for the Jedi to murmur a regretful apology and dart a hand out to slip two fingers into a tear in Cal’s glove, Cal gasping as his eyes glazed over, legs giving out as his psychometry pulled him under whatever memories the damnable Jedi had pushed onto him.
By the time she noticed what was going on, the Jedi had caught Cal, picked him up, as if he was going to abscond with him, take him, and Trilla saw red. She snarled, blood-boiling pulse-pounding panic and rage driving her movements as she launched herself at the Jedi, forcing him to drop Cal in order to defend himself, their lightsabers crashing in a shower of sparks as she tried her level best to bisect the man who dared try to take her partner away from her.
“You knew.” she growled in his face, teeth bared behind the visor, “You knew he was a psychometric, you knew and you used it, knowing Eighth Brother would be vulnerable once the past took him.”
“I did.” he said somberly, having the gall to sound regretful, “And I hope my memories will help Cal remember where he came from, the people the Empire took from us.”
“You speak as if he’s your kin.” she sneered at his audacity, “As if you have any right to him, enough to try and abduct him.”
“Cal was a good kid.” the Jedi said, pain flickering across his face, “One of the kindest I ever knew. Whatever you people did to him, it can be undone. He can still be saved.”
“Saved?” she laughed cruelly, pulling back to swing at him again, and again, and again, being parried every time despite his blindness, “He is perfectly content where he is. I found him, I gave him power and purpose, I made him what he is, he is mine.” The Jedi’s masked gaze met her visored one, and Trilla got the distinct sense that she was being seen in a way that made her skin crawl.
“How far does that go?” he asked, and his tone told her that somehow, he already knew the answer. Without warning, the Jedi’s hand flung out towards the lake, Cal’s limp form lifting from the ground as the Force gripped him, and before Trilla could make a single move to stop him, the Jedi had thrown him into the water, his unconscious weight swiftly being dragged down into the frigid depths.
“No!” she shrieked, realizing that the filthy Jedi was forcing her to choose; capture him or save her partner. She didn’t register herself making the choice, her legs moving before her mind caught up with her body, all but making the decision for her. She tore herself away from the Jedi with a cry of rage and plunged into the water, her heart pounding in her chest, panic and fury making a nauseating knot in her stomach. The bastard Jedi would pay dearly for turning Cal’s gift against him, for endangering him, for forcing Trilla to expose her soft underbelly, her damnable weakness for her partner. He would pay.
But for now, Cal was her priority. Luckily he hadn’t been submerged long, so his limp form was easy to find. She swam to him in four powerful strides, wrapping her arms around him and kicking for the surface, his body a dead weight in her arms. She broke the surface with a gasp, hauling him to the now-empty shoreline. The Jedi had predictably made his escape, and Trilla’s chest burned hot with the desire to hunt him down and hurt him, torture him, break him. But Cal’s shallow breaths and rapid eye movement, the water leaking from his mouth as he coughed what little he’d breathed in, forced her to focus her attention on him, cradling him as his head hung limply over her arm.
“Eight.” she called tersely, patting his chilled face, but Cal did not respond, “Eighth Brother. Eight. Dammit, Cal! Cal Kestis!” His eyes were closed, his face pale and troubled, his lips moving as if to speak, though no sound escaped them. She shook him, shouted at him, used the Force to warm him up, but he remained firmly in the sway of the Jedi’s memories, trapped under the surface.
“Cal, you rotten little thing, snap out of it this instant!” she snapped, and when still he remained unresponsive, she reared her hand back and slapped him hard across the face. That seemed to do the trick, and his eyes flew open with a shuddering gasp, wrenched from the sea of memory like a fish caught in a bird’s talons. He jolted, nearly cracking his head on her chin as he bolted upright, eyes wide and wild and distant, trapped between the past and the present.
“Master-“ his words were rushed and frantic, trembling and fearful, “Run-I can’t-Don’t leave me-No no no no no-“
“Eight.” she called, but he didn’t hear her.
“Master, Master-“ With an annoyed sigh, she gathered him into her arms, bringing his head to her chest and holding him close, a hand stroking a soothing rhythm in his hair. A practiced motion, the only technique that had proven effective in bringing Cal back from the past, grounding him to the present. He was an emotional, social creature, reliant on touch and comfort no matter how he pretended otherwise. He was childish in that regard. Fragile. Weak. He was lucky he was hers, that she let him get away with things others would not, things she had killed past partners for.
“Calm yourself, Eig… Cal.” she forced her voice into something she hoped was soothing, cursing him for being so high-maintenance, “You are Cal Kestis, and you’re an Imperial inquisitor. It is mid-afternoon and you are on an Festan beach with me. You’re with me, with Trilla. We just ran into a rogue Jedi, he forced his memories onto you. I suspect he is familiar with psychometry, and with you, enough to know how to weaponize it.”
“Caleb.” Cal rasped, sounding shaken but present at last, “His name is Caleb Dume, we… I knew him, he-“
“His name does not matter.” she scowled, “Nor does your brief past with him. He’s dead as soon as we find him.” Cal nodded, seeming too tired to argue with her, exhausted by mental ordeal. He slumped against her, closing his eyes as if to rest, and Trilla rolled her eyes.
“No sleeping, Eight.” she pushed him away, letting him fall into the rocky sand with an offended squawk as she stood, “We have a Jedi to hunt and revenge to take. Get up.” Cal groaned, but did as she asked, getting to his feet and plucking at his soaked clothing with a strange look in his eyes.
“Trilla?” he called, and she cocked her head to show she was listening, “Thank you, for grounding me. I um… I got pretty deep there. In the past. If I ever get too lost… you’ll bring me back, right? You’ll always bring me back?” His voice was quiet, almost solemn, looking at her with a beseeching gaze. Always so needy, her partner.
“You won’t get lost.” she said it as if it was obvious, because it should be, “My partner is stronger than that.”
“But if I do.” he insisted, “If I do, if I get lost, will you bring me back? Will you chase me, find me, pull me back to the surface?” His brows were drawn, his lips a thin line, his eyes such a bright citrine yellow. Trilla was reminded of an incident a year ago, where a powerful psychometric they had been hunting had used his dying moments to seize Cal, locking him into his mind with a skill none of them had encountered before, using his expertise to trap Cal into experiencing not only his entire life, but his agonizing death as well. Cal had been unresponsive for days, laid up in the medical bay while Trilla threw herself into training to keep busy, painfully aware of the emptiness at her side, the lack of red hair in the corner of her vision, the absence of his impish laughter in her ears. And when he’d finally been drawn from his waking coma, he hadn’t said a word for weeks. Not even to her. He’d looked vulnerable, traumatized, and the fear in his eyes was so similar to the one he wore now that her hackles raised instinctively.
She recalled hovering over him after he woke up, that blasted vulnerability awakening something horrendous in her, a protectiveness that made her nauseous. Her behavior had been obvious enough that Nine had mockingly likened her to Cal’s guard dog. Now, with Cal looking uncertain and distant, trying to act like he wasn’t hanging onto Trilla’s every word, she felt that hideous protectiveness again, recalling the panic she felt when it looked like the Jedi might snatch him, when he’d vanished beneath the glittering water. Sometimes she hated him for the way he messed with her head, played with her emotions. She’d accuse him of intentional manipulation if she wasn’t certain he’d be delighted by it.
“No matter where you go…” she answered him after a long moment of silence, making sure he heard the threat dripping from her voice, “I will always find you. It doesn’t matter how far you run from me, or how far below the psychometric surface you sink, I will find you, and I will drag you back by your ridiculous red hair.”
She’d meant for her words to be a dark promise, but Cal just smiled like she’d said something sweet, like her threat had put to rest all of his worries.
“Good.” he murmured softly, and something twisted in her chest, a fondness she’d never been able to snuff out no matter how she tried. It was a weakness that only Cal could bring out in her, making her feel things, making her want to lock him away where no one could ever even look at him but her, “You always know just what to say to make me feel better.”
“If you’re well enough to subject me to your sickening romanticism, then you’re well enough to walk.” she tossed her head, turning away to start figuring out which direction the Jedi had gone, “Don’t think too much of meaningless words.”
“Too late, you swore you’d always find me and bring me back to you.” he smirked, and she viciously smothered the spark of warmth in her chest at the return of his sly confidence, much more preferable to that horrid vulnerability.
“Well if I didn’t, then your little ducklings would.” she eyed the way Cal’s chuckled at the mention of his students, the flock of future Inquisitors who dogged his every step and fought viciously to earn the favor of their dear darling Master Kestis, “And our superiors would like something to be left of the galaxy when they’re through with it.”
“Scared of my kids, Trill?” he teased, and she snorted derisively.
“You dote on them too much.” she warned, using the Force to heighten her senses, sniffing the air for any remnant of her prey, “You’ll make them soft.”
“If I treat them well and they like me, they’ll be less likely to try and kill me for power.” Cal said breezily, like an idiot, “And they’ll be much more willing to help me with anything I require and protect me if needed.”
“You act less like a Master to them and more like a father.” she sneered, and he chuckled.
“Maybe I’ve always wanted kids.” he shrugged, “Or maybe I don’t want my relationship with my students to be based purely on fear and hate.”
“You’re naive, and you’ll end up with a knife in the back when they turn on you.” she told him flatly, which earned her nothing but a dismissive noise.
“Not having this argument again.” he disregarded her warning cheerfully, “Where did that Jedi run off to? Surprised you let him get away.”
“As much fun as it would have been to let you drown, I figured our superiors would prefer not having to train a new Brother.” she drawled, grinning when she finally picked up the Jedi’s trail, figuring out that he’d headed west.
“Drown?” Cal blinked, and then glanced down at himself, “Oh damn, is that why I’m soaked?”
“You’re a karking idiot.” she said flatly, rising to her feet to face him, “The most unobservant man I’ve ever met.”
“It’s not my fault Ca-the Jedi hucked me into the lake while I was drifting! You could have gone after him, but instead you… you….” his eyes widened, his voice taking on a slightly wondrous quality, “You saved me.”
“Don’t get any foolish ideas in your head, Eight.” she warned, but it was too late.
“You let a Jedi go free in order to save me.” Force, he was grinning now, this was going to go straight to his head, “You chose me over the mission.”
“I chose the solution that would be best in the long run.” she argued, though she knew it was useless to do so once he got an idea in his head, “Better to let a single Jedi temporarily escape than to lose a skilled Brother who’s psychometric talents will be nigh-irreplaceable.”
“You chose me because you care about me!” he exclaimed joyfully, and she tried very hard not to smack that dumb expression of glee off his face.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“No? Oh, so maybe you chose me out of fear for what my students would do to you if you let me die.” he was so insufferably smug, and it was getting harder and harder not to get pulled into yet another one of his emotional machinations. She knew he was needling her, and yet…
“How dare you insinuate such a vile thing?” she fell right into his trap, though she would describe it as intentionally jumping into it, and she could see the triumph in his eyes.
“So which was it, love or fear?” he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes that she refused to acknowledge as charming, “Which is worse, oh mighty Second Sister? Which makes your skin crawl more?”
“You are insufferable.” she snapped, jabbing her finger in his direction, “I will not be caught in your blasted mind games.”
“Oh, we’re well past that.” he gave her an impish grin, mischievous and fey, “But you’re probably right, we should go after the Jedi before he gets too far away.“
“At last, a sensible sentence from your mouth.” she said sarcastically, “He headed west, towards the forest. We can still catch up to him if we hurry.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.” He gave her a playful salute, and then he was charging off ahead of her, leaving her to snap her teeth with a growl of annoyance and race after him. Just like always. The lake was a still water surface behind them, shining and deceptively inviting, the ripples from the earlier excitement already gone.