Chapter Text
Cal’s boots hit the cold, metallic floor of the Fortress Inquisitorius hangar, the sound swallowed by the clatter of tools, the hiss of welding torches, and the distant bark of shouted orders. The scent of scorched metal and burned-out circuitry hung thick in the air, a reminder of the chaos he’d left behind just days earlier.
Repair crews still worked along the edges, spitting out wild sparks into the air as they tried to patch the fortress back together. His time in the hangar had been brief, but it had left its marks.
The Second Sister led the way ahead, and he walked a step behind silently. His presence a shadow stitched to her path, with just the same chance of escape.
They stepped into the turbolift. It hummed to life and began its descent, each second pulling them deeper into Nur’s cold heart. The lights grew dimmer, the air colder, the pressure more suffocating.
Cal backed himself against the corner, keeping Trilla within sight, gaze fixed ahead but eyes unfocused. He should have been afraid. After everything he’d done, fear would have made sense. But that sharp edge had dulled. He wasn’t sure what he felt now.
Whatever had broken in him on Kashyyyk had stayed broken.
He glanced sideways at Trilla, at the black visor, the stillness of her posture, but found nothing he could read. Maybe that was for the best. His own thoughts didn’t make much sense, without the input of someone like her. There was no plan, no destination, just this slow spiral down into the fortress itself.
He had to keep moving forward. Whatever that meant now.
He was so consumed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed they had reached their destination. A large set of doors stood before him, reinforced and imposing. The Second Sister stopped, turning to him with a warning in her voice.
“Behave yourself, Kestis. Your behaviour reflects on me too.” There was a hint of something beneath her tone, annoyance, or maybe a trace of uncertainty.
Cal didn’t respond, but he shot her a wary look as she motioned for him to enter. He stepped forward, and the doors hissed shut behind him and sealed with a resounding clang. The sound reverberated through the chamber, and Cal glanced back, a shiver running down his spine as he realised he was truly trapped. There would be no leaving this room until they allowed it.
He turned back around and took in his surroundings. The chamber was dark, the air cold. Dim red lights lined the walls, casting eerie shadows that seemed to distort and shift. And at the far end of the room stood a tall, imposing figure. Cal had never met him before but he knew who it was.
The Grand Inquisitor rose from behind a stark metal desk, his hands clasped behind his back. His red-ringed eyes glinted with a predatory interest as he regarded Cal, stepping forward with slow, deliberate strides.
“Welcome back to the Fortress Inquisitorius,” the Grand Inquisitor intoned, his voice smooth but edged with a chilling undertone. “Cal Kestis.”
Cal stiffened at the use of his full name, his shoulders tensing. He fought to keep his expression neutral, to conceal the turmoil roiling inside him. He had to be cautious; he couldn’t afford to show his cards too soon.
The Grand Inquisitor studied him, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a ghost of a smile. “You’ve done well, Kestis. Opening the holocron, surviving what you have... It is no small feat. And for that, you will be rewarded.”
Cal’s jaw tightened. The words felt like a mockery. “I’m still a prisoner, though,” he said evenly, though the bitterness slipped through.
Amusement flickered across the Grand Inquisitor’s pale face, his eyes gleaming with a cold, predatory satisfaction. “If that’s what you wish to call yourself, you are welcome to. We can even arrange for you to return to your previous lodgings. But It would be a shame to let such potential go to waste.”
Cal couldn’t hold back the shiver of cold fear that trickled through his spine at the mention of his cell. His lungs tightened, and phantom pressure returned to his wrists. It took all he had to not rub his wrist unconsciously. To not physically react to the threat of a return to the chair. Then something else joined the fear; a quiet fury coiled beneath his skin . That’s what they wanted, for him to fall into line under threats and taunts. But he’d survived that place once. He wouldn’t crawl back into it.
The Grand Inquisitor studied him closely, as if reading the thoughts that worked behind his eyes. Despite his outward calm, Cal felt a knot of anger twist in his chest. He had to find a way through this, but he couldn’t allow himself to be manipulated so easily.
“You hesitate,” the Grand Inquisitor noted, his voice dropping to a soft, insidious murmur. “I can see it in you, Kestis, the defiance, the conflict. You haven’t crumbled yet, haven’t surrendered to despair like so many others. That’s good. It means there’s still fire in you. And fire, when controlled, can forge something far stronger than the brittle ideals of the Jedi. We offer you more than mere chains, Kestis. We offer you purpose, training, and power.”
Cal’s fingers twitched; the lure of power wasn’t really something that interested him. For all the Grand Inquisitors posturing, he clearly knew nothing about him.
Cal only wanted power over himself.
He squared his shoulders, trying to project confidence he didn’t fully feel. “Maybe I just don’t like being toyed with,” he shot back, allowing a hint of defiance to creep into his voice. “You talk about potential, fire, purpose, but we both know I’m just another tool to you. A means to an end.”
The Grand Inquisitor’s smile tightened, and he took a step closer, now standing almost toe to toe with Cal, looming over him with a casual menace.
“You misunderstand, Kestis. I do not play games with you, I assess. I measure your worth, your weaknesses. And I decide whether you have a place in what we are building... or whether you belong in the refuse pile with the rest of the Jedi scum.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air like a blade. “But then you’re not really a Jedi are you? Despite your efforts to continue your training with the traitor Junda, you were never truly one of them.”
Cal knew that there was truth in those words, as much as he hated to admit it. From the Jedi, to the Scrappers Guild, to Cere, he had always been following someone else’s orders, walking a path set by others. But this was different. The Grand Inquisitor’s offer was a trap, almost so transparent to be insulting, but what were his alternatives? He had tried those, and they had left him being shot at by both sides.
"You are more than that, Kestis," the Grand Inquisitor said, seemingly content to keep speaking whether Cal responded or not. "But only if you prove yourself."
Cal forced himself to hold that gaze, even as the weight of those words pressed down on him. His mind scrambled to keep up, to find some way to turn this conversation, to pry some hint of exactly what the Grand Inquisitor wanted from him.
“I think by ‘prove yourself’ you mean to blindly obey, and clearly you have doubts that I’m gonna do that. I’m only half a Jedi as you say” He tried to sound challenging, but there was a thin edge of caution beneath it. He had to be careful not to push too far.
The Grand Inquisitor's eyes narrowed slightly, but the cold smile remained.
“Doubt is a luxury I can afford, Kestis. But I see beyond it. You have survived where others have perished, escaped this fortress once before, in fact. And with the help of that droid, no less.” His gaze flicked pointedly to BD-1, who chirped a nervous, high-pitched trill from Cal’s shoulder, his small legs shifting uneasily.
Cal's jaw tightened, but he forced his expression to remain neutral, trying to keep BD’s unease from seeping into his own voice.
“BD’s good with tech,” he said, shrugging like it was nothing. “That’s all. A tool, like any other.”
“I’ve no doubt he’s been... useful. But I’m afraid that ends here. The droid cannot stay.”
For a heartbeat, Cal froze, his mind racing. A sharp flash of fear coursed through him, followed by a surge of protective instinct. Before he could stop himself, he took a step forward, his hand drifting toward the clip on his belt where his lightsaber usually sat. His other hand rose slightly ready to use the Force, to push back physically and stop him moving any further towards BD.
“No.” The word slipped out, unbidden and filled with a raw edge.
The Grand Inquisitor’s smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. He eyed the movement, a satisfied gleam in his crimson-ringed eyes. For a moment, the room seemed to grow even colder, the shadows lengthening as the Grand Inquisitor considered the possibility of a confrontation. He took a half-step closer, his hand twitching near his own weapon, but then he stilled.
“Careful, Kestis,” the Grand Inquisitor drawled, letting the threat linger in the air between them. “That would be unwise, don’t you think?”
Cal swallowed hard, realising too late that he’d allowed his panic to show. He forced himself to stand straighter, squaring his shoulders as he tried to regain his composure. His mind scrambled for an excuse, something that wouldn’t sound so... desperate.
“It’s just that... he’s useful to me,” Cal said, trying to keep his voice steady, forcing a casual note into his words. “An extra pair of hands, someone to keep track of data. Makes things more efficient.” Even to his own ears it sounded pathetic.
The Grand Inquisitor studied him in silence, the pause dragging just long enough to unsettle. Heat prickled under Cal’s skin from the sheer weight of that gaze. He reached out through the Force, testing for a read, but the mental barriers he met were unyielding, layered, sharp, impossible to slip past. He probed, careful and deliberate, but couldn’t risk pushing harder. Not without opening himself up in return.
The Grand Inquisitor let the silence stretch, seemingly savouring the way it frayed at the edges of Cal’s bravado. Finally, he inclined his head slightly, as if making a grand concession.
The Grand Inquisitor studied him with something like amusement, cold and measured, the kind that made Cal’s skin crawl, as if he enjoyed the discomfort in Cal’s eyes. “He can stay with you, Kestis. Consider it a gesture of good will. But he will not join you in your training. We can’t have distractions. And you will not be using any healing stims.”
Cal bit back the angry retort that rose in his throat, nodding stiffly. He had to play along, at least for now. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. He felt like a caged animal, pacing behind invisible bars, but he couldn’t let them see the extent of his anger or his desperation.
The Grand Inquisitor straightened, his tone becoming business like once more. “You may go. But remember, Kestis, I demand obedience, and I do not tolerate defiance. Should I sense even a hint of the latter, you will find yourself back in your old cell before you can draw your next breath. And the same goes for your droid.”
With a final, measured nod, the Grand Inquisitor lifted a hand toward the door, and it slid open behind Cal. He didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and walked out of the chamber, his thoughts a tangled mess of anger, fear, and determination.
The purge troopers flanked him again as he was escorted through the fortress, their blank masks giving away nothing. But Cal felt a new chill in the air as he walked, as if the walls themselves were watching him, waiting for him to stumble.
He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d just agreed to. But he had a horrible feeling that he might have given up more ground than he realised.