Chapter Text
A guard opened the door to his bleak little holding cell, shedding a fading light over his swollen face.
They were moving him.
Imperial troops had captured Erik before he could reach his speeder in time to return to the Resistance. Beaten unconcious, Erik woke up in prison, starving and left to stew in his own fears.
He was merely a scout but he knew the location of the rebel base and they would surely torture him to find it. How much time had passed in the dank chamber of his misery?
He could not tell.
Surely, no more than a day?
But the darkness played tricks on the mind, exactly according to his captors' wishes.
Two armored guards walked into the cell and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him up before he could stand or speak and dragged him out the door.
Erik had spent the last few hours mentally preparing himself for torture. Some of the rebels spun stories in the cantina of custom-built droids, engineered to insert electrodes directly into your spine and shock you to within an inch of your sanity... if you were lucky.
The more unfortunate prisoners were tortured by Sith Inquisitors - fearsome beings that spouted lightning from their fingertips and poison from their blades. They could rip open your very mind and create unending nightmares while they extracted the information they needed. The ordeal would end only when you were dead or the Inquisitor grew bored of your screaming.
Erik was disinclined to believe such nonsense until he witnessed it for himself. Twisted and cruel, the Sith enjoyed the spectacle of their victims writhing in agony and terror. To compound the horror, they would often send broken prisoners, driven mad by the torture, back to their comrades to spread the message of fear. He'd seen enough broken men to know that the stories had to have at least a grain of truth to them.
A Jedi once told Erik that long ago, the Sith had been part of their Order, cast out for abuse of the mystical power known as the Force. But in truth, he doubted they had come from anywhere but the deepest and darkest black hole in the galaxy. And now he cursed his own carelessness for being captured so easily after carefully avoiding detection for so long.
The guards led him through a maze of dark corridors, turning every now and again on a beaten track. Drops of sweat began to trickle down his face and he realized that he wasn't prepared for what was to come.
Erik had been an insurance broker before the Empire invaded Danisla, destroyed his branch, burned his city. He was gifted with numbers, not a blaster, and like many other citizens, he simply wasn't given a choice. The rebels had saved him and his family, provided them with food and shelter, protected them from the Empire. Many of his neighbours hadn't been so lucky and he joined the Resistance as a way of repaying them.
Erik swallowed and tried to breathe evenly but terror was swelling in his chest. He resolved to hold out for as long as he could. He wouldn't give in to torture. He would remain true to the cause and the nobility of the thought made him feel a little better.
Finally, they began to slow.
Their destined door appeared at the end of the hallway and he had a terrible feeling about what lay on the other side.
The prison was windowless, perhaps even underground and the halls were dark and unremarkable. His surroundings were familar but the Imperial insignia was emblazoned on every wall and he couldn't help but feel the prickle of panic in his heart.
Erik swallowed.
The door in front of him slid open and he was shoved inside, falling face-first onto the cold, hard floor.
Wincing, he sat up onto his knees, a feat which proved difficult with his hands bound behind his back. The door slid shut and Erik opened his eyes wide, peering into the darkness.
A single spotlight flickered to life but didn't illuminate much of the torture chamber. It was a cell, similar to the one in which he'd been kept but there was additional room for an ominous-looking tilt-table. Erik caught the scent of dried blood and sweat wafting through the air, a parting gift from its previous victims. Binders and manacles dangled open from the table's corners and sharp, needle-like arms grew out of an assortment of machines attached to an eletrical generator.
He swallowed again and realized his mouth was dry. There was nothing to swallow.
"Erik Serth," he heard his name whispered by a shadow sitting on a bench attached to the far wall.
The voice was female, calm but cold.
Erik turned his head and stared at the shadow, squinting. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he began to make out a young woman with wild silvery hair. She was looking him over with curiousity and what he suspected was ill intent.
Strange symbols were carved into her armour and sewn into her robes. Two large gemstones were chained atop her gloved hands, long silvery links disappearing into the folds of her garments. Wicked pauldrons covered her shoulders and even though she was wearing Sith livery, the customary floor-length skirts were missing, allowing her to sit with one leg crossed over the other. Plated boots caught the light as she turned to face him.
She leaned forward, crossing her arms over her knee and allowed the feeble light to illuminate her ghostly pale face.
Erik felt himself drawn to her icy blue eyes, surrounded as they were by deep black shadows. They pierced through the darkness and burned into his mind, pouring fear down his spine.
"Do you know where you are?" she asked him quietly.
Erik tried to swallow his terror and forced himself to respond as best he could.
"Uuu-uh an Imperial prison...?" he rasped, his voice unused since capture.
The Sith lowered her grey brows without blinking, the intense artic blue freezing the blood in his veins.
She wasn't very old, certainly not older than Erik. Why was he so afraid?
"Do you know who I am?" she asked.
Erik took a closer look at her face. Sharp cheekbones and stern eyebrows framed her otherwise gentle features and faint scars from long-healed cuts showed signs of war and battle but he didn't recognize her.
"Uh, a Sith...?" he said, trying to steady himself on his knees. He was shivering.
She raised a mocking eyebrow at him. He hadn't said her name. Should he have known it? Would it have mattered? He swallowed again and tried not to stare, turning away but then slowly turning back. Her gaze had trapped him, paralyzing his body.
"That's right," she continued casually, "I trust the reputation of the Sith precedes me and I don't have to elaborate on our predisposition towards violence and torture..." She made a sweeping gesture as if brushing dust off her robes.
"I- I know what you do to..." he trailed off, remembering the stories.
"And I understand that you've lived in Caralis for your entire life, is that correct?" She raised an eyebrow to ask. Erik felt like she knew more than she was saying, could she be reading his thoughts with those strange blue eyes?
"Ye-yes," he croaked, desperately trying to break eye contact.
"Never left the planet?" A superfluous question but with a hint of curiousity behind it.
"N-no." Erik tried to look down. Undoubtedly, a little embarassed. In the Outer Rim, most worlds were independent or run by criminal syndicates, gangs and pirates. He had never wanted to visit any of them, not even on business.
"And how well do you think you know this region, Master Serth?" She looked at him intently now. He wasn't sure where this was going but felt compelled to talk if it would delay the inevitable torture.
"Quite well, I guess," he said with a little more confidence than intended, remembering all the trips he'd taken to the countryside with his wife before they'd settled down. He was an outdoorsman like most Danislans, fond of the lush green forests, crystal-clear lakes and breathtaking mountains that covered the planet's surface. Despite living in the city, Erik knew it well, making him an ideal rebel scout, albeit a poor soldier.
"I see," she said, leaning forward slightly, curiousity dancing behind those big blue eyes as she spoke. "So you could tell me if there had been any large-scale excavation projects conducted in the past say, 30 years? Perhaps halted for inexplicable reasons...?"
"Uuuh..." Erik tried to process the question. Excavation? Halted? Inexplicable? Not a second later, a thought crossed his mind.
"Yes...there was a big project that was to drill into the mountain in the east but..." he paused.
Was he giving too much away?
No. The rebels didn't go anywhere near that mountain, no one did.
"But...?" She raised both eyebrows and gazed at him intently. Her icy blue eyes began to muddy and change colour. An infusion of red into a perfect blue, like drops of blood in water.
"...but they stopped after hundreds of people died. There was a cave-in, a few weeks into the project and lots of workers began mysteriously disappearing... Religious leaders decried it and people began to protest against further excavation before they awoke ancient evils or something stupid like that. The High Council voted to close it and recoup the losses to Czerka, no one is allowed near it now."
The words came out like blaster fire as Erik remembered handling the accounts of the company contracted to mine the ore from beneath Mt. Foane. They had lost so much money on insurance claims for the project that the resulting paperwork had consequently buried him in a bureaucratic nightmare. The whole thing made him so angry he just wanted to...
Erik swallowed. Should he be revealing this? Surely, this must be important to the Imperials if a Sith was questioning him about it. But the Graveyard had been abandoned, even the rebels weren't desperate enough to hide in there.
"They call it the Graveyard..." he said absently, "it's supposed to be haunted..."
Erik watched as a wicked grin began to bloom on the young Sith's face and toxic rings of yellow circled her pupils. Something akin to malice took root in her voice as she spoke.
"And what do they say this Graveyard is haunted by?" she breathed.
Erik hesitated, distracted by the unnatural change in eye colour, still unable to look away. He took a ragged breath and watched it briefly form a cloud of vapour in the chilly air before dissipating. He remembered the ramblings of the miners he'd spoken to, their crazy talk of monsters and demons.
Erik hadn't believed them, until now.
"Evil spirits... ghosts... I don't think it's true but... nobody that went into those mines is still alive to tell about it," he confessed, feeling a little stupid for saying it aloud.
There had been no logical explanation as to the dangers within the mountain. Months of debating and investigation had deemed it too dangerous for any workers or even droids to continue excavating. Those who returned from Mt Foane and claimed their insurance went mad or committed suicide within weeks of appeal, overwhelming him with additional paperwork and red tape.
"And you know the location of this Graveyard?" she hissed.
"Y-yes..."
Erik was still entranced by those demonic eyes which burned so brightly in the chilling darkness. He could feel the dread crawling up his spine. But then for the very first time, she looked away, and Erik felt the sudden release from her invisible grip. She raised a hand and rested her chin on her palm, deep in thought.
Relief washed over him and his fear subsided for a moment before being replaced with anxiety. Erik didn't know what she was going to do with this information but anything the Sith had planned, couldn't be good. His heart sank as he thought of his family. Now that she had what she needed, his death was assured.
Tears welled up in his eyes and he shut them tight, trying to hold back. He began mentally farewelling his wife and children and the thought of never seeing them again drove daggers into his heart. At least he hadn't revealed the location of the rebel base. He'd take that secret to the grave. It was going to be alright. He would die protecting them.
Erik took a deep breath to steady himself, sending another cloud of vapour misting through the air. His eyes found the young Sith who'd so casually forgotten he was there, lost in some dark thoughts of her own.
"Are you going to kill me?" he asked, resigned to his fate.
She was silent for a moment but then turned to look at him again. Her eyes were an icy blue once more and her twisted smile was gone. Erik felt uneasy from her sudden mood swings which seemed to physicially manifest themselves. He felt naked and exposed and so very very cold.
"No," she said. "You have been most helpful, Erik. In fact, I'm going to offer you a deal."
Erik didn't know what to say but his stunned expression must have said it for him as she spoke again.
"I am here on personal business and I require the knowledge of a local to proceed. Alas, when I arrived, Imperial Intelligence couldn't even tell me the location of the rebel base, let alone this Graveyard you speak of," she explained, mocking her own subordinates. The young Sith stood up and her hands slowly disappeared behind her, clasping together and straightening her back. She was taller than he thought.
"Which is why I wished to speak with you..." she paused and looked away as if she'd heard a distant sound.
"They will be here soon. To interrogate you," she paused again, contemplating something for a moment before speaking. "In exchange for the location of this Graveyard, I am willing to spare your life. You have a family, don't you? I can promise all of you amnesty and a new start in the capital, assuming you defect to the Empire..."
Erik stared at her in disbelief.
Was she joking? Was she reading his mind with her Sith sorcery?
He suddenly felt a crushing wave of home-sickness sweep over him. He longed for his house in Caralis where his children would play in the garden. For the bed he shared with his wife and the simple life he had lived before the war. He longed for the fight to be over, he longed to go home. Could this young Sith be his ticket back there?
But the wave soon abated as he realized that she was the calm before the storm. A young, inexperienced lackey who thought to take advantage of him while he was detained. They didn't know she was here. They were still coming to torture him, kill him. Erik hadn't betrayed anyone yet but was this his chance to stay alive? Could he trust her?
"I see you're having some trouble deciding where your allegiance lies," she continued. "Make no mistake, the Empire will break you and get what they need, either way."
She wasn't threatening him, simply stating the fact. Erik tried desperately to read her intentions but her face betrayed nothing, perhaps only the smallest drop of pity that she could easily sweep aside.
He couldn't swallow it. For who could ever trust the word of a Sith?
"I-I can't-" Erik began to mumble but was interrupted as the door slid open and the real Sith Inquisitor stepped inside.
A deathly hue covered his face and dark veins spidered up his neck and across his fat, bald head. His lavish crimson-black dressings were visibly overstuffed with the girth of his grotesquely fat body and the robes trailed on the floor as he trudged forward. A head taller than the young Sith, his presence filled the room with a powerful, dark essence, hatred seeping out of every pore.
The Sith Inquistor looked at them with a bloodshot, murderous gaze and Erik felt his heart wrench. This was it, this was his executioner.
But he seemed to look right past him, instead walking over to the tilt-table which remained undisturbed and put his hands on his hips.
"WHERE IS THE PRISONER?!" he bellowed to the guard outside.
The feeble light created a dark silhouette of his immense body, making him look even bigger from behind.
Erik turned to look at the young Sith who seemed unmoved by the Inquisitor's sudden appearance. In fact, she stood quite still, rolling her eyes.
"I-I'm sorry, my lord, he must have been returned to his cell," said the disgruntled officer.
"Well then, GO AND FETCH HIM!" the Inquisitor growled.
"AND STOP WASTING MY TIME!" he bellowed.
The corpulent Inquisitor moved dangerously close to where Erik was huddled and the young Sith was standing.
But before he could make contact, she yanked Erik up onto his feet and marched him out of the room before the door slid shut. Sparks of electricity sizzled beneath it, followed by a muffled roar that echoed out into the hallway. Erik thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't in that room anymore and let the young Sith lead him out of the prison, keeping his mouth shut.
She moved very quickly and Erik almost tripped several times, leaving him dangling from the vice grip she held around his neck with her long fingers. They walked past numerous security guards and Imperial soldiers who paid them no mind, slipping out of the prison and into the main building.
Erik quickly realized that his footsteps were not making any sound and when he glanced beneath him, there was no shadow to be seen.
They marched straight through Imperial Headquarters, passing delegates, officers and even Sith Lords without turning a single head. Suspecting mystical forces at work, Erik's mind quickly jumped at the idea of escape but he was in the heart of Imperial territory and his hands were bound, not to mention the Sith who was leading him by the scruff of his neck.
He glanced over at the young woman but her eyes remained focused on the way ahead, still an icy blue. They left through the massive gates of the citadel that Erik finally recognized as the former High Council Chambers and snuck out into the night.