The Enemy in the Mirror

“You have the questions I would like asked. I have confidence you will do well, Veskasa.”

“Jedi Serena Laran. We ‘ave ‘olos of ‘er companions, zough zere are no matches in our databases yet,” Inquisitor Iscandar murmured as she read over the file on their prisoner. Inquisitor Vel Aath looked at one of the newer recruits to the Inquisitoriate in some time; part of an initiative to bring new blood – and new potential – into their ranks.

Palara Iscandar was a Twi'lek, shapely, with purple-hued skin. She had been trained since being captured to be an Infiltrator, an Inquisitor whose presence would not be noticed in those areas where Inquisitors were known or humans were not very common and thus would attract attention. While the Indoctrination of the humanoid had gone well, she had refused to learn any techniques that smacked of too much darkness. She even found it difficult to lie. This, while helpful to being an Infiltrator, was not well suited for interrogation. But Inquisitor Atrapes had expressed quite clearly that the alien was take part in this interrogation, and he was the more experienced of them.

They were watching the Jedi through the one-way durasteel wall of the interrogation chambers. Iscandar sighed, bringing Vel Aath’s attention back to her.

“Go,” Vel Aath commanded. “It will not do any good to wait.”

Iscandar nodded, and left the observation room. Vel Aath turned back to Jedi Laran, looking through her own reflection to the woman strapped to the chair in the middle of the room.

***

The interrogation room was uniformly matte black; even the chair and the table that were situated in the centre of the room were the same glossy black of the rest of the Citadel, save for a few areas.

Jedi Laran was tied to a large chair, one that allowed for almost no movement on her part, and the only direction she could look was straight ahead and, perhaps, a few degrees around. The chair was set up in such a way that the Jedi could not look away from the Inquisitor, nor could she keep herself from being injected earlier by the droid with drugs that, among other things, suppressed her abilities with the Force, and “scattered”, or hazed, her mind to make it harder to mount defences against mental intrusion and Force suggestions. By now, the drug would be taking effect, though the results were wildly variable. Some had been able to somehow manage themselves enough to keep from giving too much information. However, none had been able to completely shrug it off.

Inquisitor Iscandar entered the room followed by an interrogation droid, keeping her eyes focussed on the data-pad, before sitting across from the Jedi. Only then did her eyes rise to the human woman across from her. The droid hovered slowly over to take a position next to the woman, with its needle extended and prepared to inject its own mix of drugs into the Jedi.

“Jedi Serena Laran,” the Twi’lek began, her expression neutral. “A survivor of ze Purges. Zat is most commendable. My name is Inquisitor Iscandar. We are ‘oping zat you will prove cooperative. Zere are many questions we would like answered, and you are ze most qualified to answer zem.”

Things had certainly changed. Was it just two years ago that she had been living amongst the Roghnófar Daoine of Dhomanda A'lainn? When she closed her eyes she could almost see it.

And she had left... to protect those same Chosen People from the Empire. To save the girl, Rhianna. The girl who was now lost, yet perhaps safe with Morgan Evanar and what teachings of the Force the Jedi had been able to convey to them both. She hoped it was enough.

Serena Laran slowly opened her eyes, a twi'lek holding a datapad coming into focus. She had been working, trying to dilute the drug that had been injected to her, but the longer it was in her system the harder it became to touch the Force, let alone do anything with it. It should have been a relatively simple procedure for a Healer.

She looked at the twi'lek, and waited for the questions. There was nothing to say. Had she failed? Was this to be it - the small group of Jedi she had managed to find now scattered to the winds, fighting for their lives?

She could not betray their location if she tried. If the Empire released her tomorrow she had no idea where to look.

Serena closed her eyes. She could almost hear the wind in the trees.

The Jedi seemed to be waiting. The Inquisitor nodded and looked back down at her data-pad.

“We found some interesting holos on ze Imperial Network, Jedi Laran,” the twi’lek said. “A Knighting ceremony, to be precise, from before ze Purges.”

She stood now, and made her way to the side of the chair.

“Where have you been 'iding all zose years? Not on zat vessel; it was on a planet. Where?”

The Inquisitor began to lace her questions with the Force, letting her awareness settle almost fully on the Jedi. She caught some fleeting images and whispers, but nothing tangible or useful. She pressed her question once more.

“Where?”

She smiled faintly, feeling the press of the woman's touch on her mind despite the drugs in her system. "It is strange, is it not, that they allow you to live and yet signed off on the murders of hundreds of children who's only crime was to be Force sensitive?"

Serena sighed. "My exile is of no importance." She tried her hardest to impress her words with the Force and convince the Twi'lek to leave it alone, but could barely sense it now, her touch on the Life Giver becoming ever more tenuous.

The door to the chamber parted. “Exile implies permanence, Ms. Laran.”

A man, mid to upper forties perhaps, standing a solid hundred and eighty-five centimeters entered the chamber. His dark hair, medium in length, grayed at the temples a bit and showed age beginning to wear on him. Though nothing about him was frail in any sense of the word.

He wore a black stylized uniform with red trim running across either shoulder, down the length of his tunic, and continued along the slacks. No plaque displayed his rank, but the crimson heraldry of the Office of the Imperial Inquisitoriate shone upon the left breast.

Inquisitor Iscandar clearly recognized him despite never having met the man in person. Her skin visibly lightened to a soft indigo from her normal deep violet.

“And as far as I know, no Inquisitor has signed off on the murder of hundreds of children. If any of my subordinates were guilty of such a crime I would personally make sure they atoned for the sin.”

He pulled up a second chair next to Iscandar, who was shocked at the appearance of the person who held lordship over this entire domain.

“I apologize for the treatment you’ve been given. This is no way to treat a guest. Unfortunately I’ve been of planet on business and have only recently caught up regarding the fiasco on the galactic rim.”

Grand Inquisitor Valten motioned towards to bound Jedi.

“Inquisitor....Iscandar is it?. Please cut Ms. Laran's bindings loose, that is no way to treat a guest.” Karl smiled towards the Jedi. "Can I offer you caf or tea?"

Serena's eyes were slightly glazed as she looked at the newcomer, and then the straps holding her to the chair were loosened. She made an effort not to sag, keeping her back straight, and she rubbed her arms a little bit to help restore some of the lost circulation.

"No... Inquisitor did this..." The Jedi's voice was soft. "...Chancellor Palpatine ordered the purge of the Jedi." Her head was starting to feel floaty, like someone had pumped her full of helium. "The deaths of children."

“Emperor Palpatine.” The Grand Inquisitor carefully corrected Serena. Inquisitor Iscandar paused off to the side and remained silent while watching the exchange with confusion behind her eyes.

“I am also not aware of this. If what you say is true, this happened a long time ago. And if true again, his majesty is years dead...his life ended by one of your Jedi no less.” Karl leaned across the table, steadying Laran has she began to sway from the drugs.

Definitely tea.

“We all receive what we have wrought in the end. But I am more interested in the now than I am of decades gone. Inquisitor Iscandar, could you please have someone fetch a two hot cups of Manellan Jasper?”

The Force was still there, a mere whisper where once had been a thunderclap. She clung to it, a thread that led back to sanity. She had seen this - seen her captivity. Seen that this was part of her destiny.

For the Jedi to be safe, to escape Cloud City, she had to be taken.

The Twi'leki Inquisitor left the room, apparently to get tea. Serena looked at the man across from her, putting her arms on the table to steady herself and ignoring the interrogation droid that was still hovering in a nearby corner. "What is it... you wish to know?"

Valten smiled. "There's a lot I wish to know, knowledge is an obsession of mine."

The Grand Inquisitor chuckled a bit. "But enough semantics how about something simple, what was your business on Bespin?"

Her mind was getting hazier, though a small part of her brain was still attempting to defend against the effects of the drug she'd been injected with. "Business? No business... Just trying to live."

Serena propped her head up on her left hand, elbow on the table.

The Grand Inquisitor steepled his fingers together and nodded. "I see. Willingly submitting, on you knees no less, to a homicidal madman isn't very conducive to that goal."

Karl sighed and shook his head. "Please don't lie to me."

At that moment, Inquisitor Iscandar reentered the room with to steaming mugs of exotic tea. Valten passed one cup across the table and took a small sip of the drink. Scalding hot. Perfect.

"You know that man claims to be a Sith? We've had run-ins with him before, slippery bastard."

The wind in the trees. Unseen... affect producing effect. The Force was a slight breeze now, a ghost of a breath that would barely fog a mirror.

Her long hair was bundled in a messy braid, hanging nearly to her waist. Serena pulled it over her shoulder in a gesture that was a remnant of her childhood. As a youngling she would often cling to her hair as a sort of security blanket, and as a padawan she had taken to wearing her hair up to break herself of the habit. Her long fingers worked themselves into the strands of copper, slowly undoing the braid and teasing out the tangles near the end one at a time.

"It is my destiny to be taken," she said, her green eyes fixed on the steaming cup of tea before her. "I did not want any loss of life because of my resistance, so I gave none. ...I am meant to be here."

"I wish you would have put up a fight, we might have been able to bring him in with your help." Valten concentrated on the woman across from him while taking another sip of the tea. Her eyes were starting to clear up some. The fidgeting was a good sign as well, it was much easier to see the truth in people when they weren't hopped up on drugs.

"Slaughtered his way through a residential district before he disappeared into Port Town."

The Grand Inquisitor motioned towards the cup of tea.

"Please. I wouldn't spoil good tea with any chemicals."

She felt a pang of guilt at his words, but forced herself to concentrate on the present. And the Force... it was becoming louder in the background as the drugs that had been suppressing it began to wear off. Serena reached for the tea with hands that were involuntarily shaking, and sipped it. As she swallowed she worked on diluting the drugs even more, using the Force to heal herself of its ill effects.

A time consuming effort, at best.

"I am not responsible for the work of the Empire's dogs." She looked at him, making eye contact for the first time.

Valten smiled serenely at her insult. She would find nothing in his eyes, just blank, grey irises.

"Then who's work are you responsible for?"

She frowned slightly, wrinkles beginning to form between her eyebrows. "None but my own..."

Valten slowly leaned across the table.

"Really? You disappeared for over twenty years from the face of the galaxy. You stayed hidden for all that time."

He pulled a small holo-recorded from his breast pocket, setting it between them. A young Serena floated above the device in the midst of a Jedi Knighting Ceremony.

"What's a little video like this? You could easily have gone into hiding again, vanished and never to be seen again."

The image flickered, this time a recording from what seemed to be a HUD. The scene bounced erratically as the wearer closely followed a fleeing woman. An armored glove closed around the woman's arm and more followed, hauling her off her feet. The hologram froze on her face. James Prent.

"Her? Perhaps your other friend? Others? One doesn't simply give up freedom at a whim."

Serena looked at the young face upturned in the holo, and her face changed. Where she had been tired, she became sorrowful, just with the rearrangement of a few small muscles. "It is not that difficult to disappear."

She drank the tea in front of her more deeply, feeling dehydrated and not knowing when the Imperials would let her have more liquid. "And yet as I was about to, I was taken. So perhaps it is not as easy as you and I thought it was." Serena paused. "My lack of resistance made it easier, but I..." She halted. Perhaps she had made a mistake. But no, no... she had done what she had to to protect the others.

Uncertainty. Hesitance. This is what the Grand Inquisitor was looking for. If only the drugs weren’t still in here system. Laran was recovering quickly, but she was a Jedi after all. The recording spoke clearly to that effect.

“Unfortunately your friend was not so amiable. Imperials were badly injured. It’s curious, really, how someone her size can toss about four fully armored soldiers.”

Valten sat back, a frown creeping up on his face as he effortlessly kept up his charade. Never once did he skip a beat.

“Sadly she got herself caught by Ministry of Truth officers while resisting my own. And the Ministry has never really had much respect for my organization.”

He sipped more at his tea as he closely studied the Jedi prisoner.

“They’ve been pulling jurisdiction Bantha dren. Always executing people “as an example” (Valten sneered) ever since the Belargic fiasco. Frankly, I think they’re just trying to spite the Inquisitoriate.”

Serena's brow creased into a slight frown, wondering how what he said could be true. Certainly it could be, but James Prent was a small young woman, and not trained in any martial arts that she knew of. Certainly not a warrior.

But if the poor girl had been captured... Serena remembered how James had told her about how she'd gotten her burns. Burnt at the stake for being an adept on a backwater planet with little Imperial oversight, and literally been pulled from the flames by her half brother and Loklorien. If she was awaiting another execution it could turn her to the Dark side. No matter that her skill was small, the Dark side was a matter of the heart - not talent.

"That is curious," she managed at last. A leaf on the river. "I..." The wind in the rushes. "I know only a little about the politics of the current Empire." Give him nothing! He will take what you give him and hang you and the others with it.

She closed her eyes to pray for strength and a tear ran down her cheek. The Force was there, around her... in him... in the chair and the table... waiting.

“I wouldn’t call it politics. Idiocy would be a much better distraction.”

Valten didn’t smile outwardly at the concentration Serena was showing. Times like this almost made Valten wish he bore the curse of being an adept. What would he feel from her? Despair? Hope? Defiance? His talents were advanced enough without the Force, but more information and new sensations would make bearing the mark worth it.

Almost.

Karl set the mug down on the table. His brows furrowed with concern. Not for James’s safety, that much was obvious. No, the Inquisitor seemed more concerned at a loss of a great asset. He respected the Jedi and it was long after Order 66. The Inquisitoriate couldn’t afford to go out killing people on a whim.

“There isn’t much I can do.” Valten shifted his eye up to meet hers, focusing in on the tear. “Unless there is something that would make this my jurisdiction. Is there?”

What was that saying? Out of the clutches of a nightwing only to be eaten by a clawcat? Out of the pan into the oven. Serena set down the empty mug and returned her hands to her lap, folding them.

She focused on the Inquisitor's face, almost preternaturally calm again as the Force moved to her will. Everything he said could be a lie.

Everything he said, conversely, could also be the truth. He seemed sympathetic to her, and to poor Miss Prent, but there was a ring of falseness about him, like a set of dentures. He was saying the right things, made the right expressions with his face, but there was something... not natural. False.

The Force told her he was lying, but about what she didn't know. Serena felt little comfort in the Life Giver, though it was letting her get a good sense of her surroundings and that there were many people observing this interrogation. "I do not know what would make her your jurisdiction."

“Ah, yes, the detail I can’t really get in. I’m sorry but technically you are under arrest and I’m not allowed to speak Imperial business with you.”

The Inquisitor’s expression seemed to fade, as if he were thinking off into the distance. Serena’s eyes took on that strange focus that Valten was used to. When an adept conjured up the force and began to stretch and prove. He couldn’t feel it at all, but he could imagine soft winds blowing around his mind, slowly taking form and searching.

It was a game he often played against fellow Inquisitors. It had been a while since he got to play against a Jedi. Experience had taught him many tricks and skills; Karl focused inward, mentally slamming a steel door shut in front of his surface thoughts.

“Suffice to say we deal with possible internal threats to the Imperium, part of which includes monitoring known adepts for possible corruption.”

One red eyebrow raised slightly - she couldn't help it. "You want me to tell you this girl is an adept?"

Serena still felt confused, either a side effect of the drugs still in her system, or simply because the man in front of her was being purposely obtuse. "Surely you would know the answer to that by now."

Valten smiled brightly. “Oh no, I could come up with any good excuse given the time.” He chuckled a bit as if he were telling some silly little joke.

The Grand Inquisitor cheerfully pointed directly at Serena.

“What I would like is for you to give me some incentive……”

He still wore an inviting smile, but in that instant the man's demeanor took a much darker turn.

“……to even care enough to tell the Ministry that this little girl just might be an adept.”

Serena was exhausted. She'd been kept awake for a solid 24 hours prior to this little 'talk,' and the drugs and the tea were combining into a roiling mass in her stomach.

She concentrated deeper, weaving the Force around the Inquisitor's head like a net. The touches were light. Complicated. Meant to push the man towards truth, real truth. The Jedi felt strength as she used the Force, and swayed sideways in her chair as she finished the manipulation.

It wasn't perfect, and perhaps he would be able to resist the pull, but it was something. And she couldn't let James be executed. She could... she could give him Vortex. There was no one there to hurt, and the Alliance had cleaned the base. Hadn't they?

Serena opened her mouth, and then clutched at the table and vomited the tea in her stomach to the side of her chair. Her belly spasmed, and she continued to retch even after there was nothing left to bring up.

Serena was at his mercy, not like she could get loose. Thousands had tried and the only ones that made it out where the ones the Inquisition allowed to escape. It wouldn’t matter if he gave her some leeway, no? Maybe stop fussing about with the story of her captured friend. Leveling the field would clear the way to build trust….and a former Jedi on the side of the Inquisitoriate would be an excellent resource.

NO!

Valten crushed down those thoughts with impunity and focused his mind into a diamond-hard fortress. The Grand Inquisitor knew his own thoughts and wouldn’t allow her to manipulate him in any way.

Valten stood up and moved to Serena’s side, steadying her as she retched and kept on dry heaving. She may not be able to have sway over him, but she didn’t have to know that right away.

“Here we’ll get you to a refresher and some water.”

The Grand Inquisitor helped the Jedi to her feet.

She groaned as he pulled her up, the pains in her stomach making it hard for her to stand up straight and reach her full height of nearly two meters. A Jedi is not proud, so she took his assistance and soon was deposited in a spartan 'fresher, everything stainless steel and bolted down. There wasn't even a mirror.

Serena did her business and then ran cool water into the shallow sink. She patted her face, trying to revive herself without getting too wet as there was no where for her to dry off. The steel in front of her gave an indistinct and murky reflection - she had turned into a light peach blob framed with a copper blur. Two darker spots in the reflection were her eyes. What did they look like now?

Weary? Or even now would there be an indication that she would give up hope eventually? Could the Inquisitors see it in her - her weakness? What -

A knock at the door and then it opened, to reveal the twi'lek female from before. The Inquisitor pulled her out of the 'fresher and they rejoined Valten in the passageway just outside the interrogation room. Serena did not resist. There was no point - even if she defeated these two without her lightsaber there were still hundreds of souls inside this building.

And if her guess was correct they were in the Empire's stronghold on Imperial Center. Coruscant.

No, there was no escape for Serena Laran.

Valten looked on Serena with mild sympathy. The woman looked like a pale corpse on her feet, poor thing hadn’t even been here a month yet. Captivity with the Inquisition would not be pleasant for her…unless she helped them…then all would be well and good.

“Perhaps some food and rest?”

The Grand Inquisitor let her put some weight on him as support as he guided her down the hall.

“I’ll see what I can do to find you more suitable quarters, I’m not that uncivil to allow poor treatment of such an esteemed guest.”

"Thank you," Serena said quietly, allowing herself to be led by the slightly taller Inquisitor. A causal observer might have thought they were friends, the way her hand was tucked carefully in the crook of his elbow as they walked down the hall.

She spent the time getting a better picture of her surroundings with the Force, trying to count personnel, and searching unobtrusively for possible exits. Her face remained calm - serene even - though she was pale and drawn.

"Esteemed guest," she said finally. "And that is what you truly think of me? I am a guest?"

“A true knighted Jedi is rare in the galaxy these days and I’ll expect you’ll be in our company for a while. I’ll do what I can within the purview of the law.”

A confusing amount of twists and twists down endless identical hallways brought them to an unmarked door. In fact everything in this labyrinth bore no identification of any sort. Yet somehow the inquisitors knew exactly where they were going.

Without even a verbal command or gesture, the door simply opened to a Spartan cell. It wasn’t unreasonable, but not pleasant in any sense of the word.

“Besides, the Empress herself has requested to see you. That makes you a very special guest indeed.”

Valten helped settle the Jedi to the bare cot.

“Please make your decision quickly. I can try to stall the ministry, but they don’t have much regard for the Inquisition and I need hard information to secure the girl. Your friend doesn’t have much time.”

She sat on the bed, and looked up at him mutely. Vortex? Or Rhianna's home planet? No, not the latter. She had left to spare those people the persecution of the Empire, she would not send it right back to them. "I do not know where my companions are, but..."

Still she hesitated. Then, "Vortex. Some were gathering there." Serena put her face in her hands, but hoped that James could be spared any further distress.

It had been two days since they had received the name of the planet: Vortex.

While Jedi Laran had been well treated as per Grand Inquisitor Valten's orders, none had provided her with any conversation beyond a recitation of the possible choices for her meals; she had been given rights to wander, while escorted of course, around her cell block. The paths never led to any viewports, or gave the Jedi any inkling of where exactly she was, aside from the floor plan of the detention area she was residing in. Vel Aath had ordered these things, even the meals (which were of no poor quality); but the Twi'lek could tell she was somewhat angered at the way Valten had taken over the interrogation, even if his presence had gotten the name of a planet. She stood in front of Laran's cell, and the door slid open silently. Even so, the Jedi (looking considerably more well rested) seemed to be awaiting her.

"Good morning, Jedi Laran," the Inquisitor said. Laran nodded. "I was 'oping that you might join me zis morning for a walk, if you wish."

"Very well." Serena stood up, smoothing her clothing, and followed the Twi'lek Inquisitor out of her room. In general she was a ghost in this compound, seen but not heard. She had not attempted to escape, feeling that it would just serve to get her shot and probably locked up in a box somewhere. Or dissected. Who knew what the Inquisitorate would do to her once she became difficult?

It chafed to be the 'good' prisoner, however. And no one would tell her anything about 'the girl', as they put it, despite her giving up so much. It made her more determined not to tell them anything more about anything.

As opposed to most other Inquisitors, Iscandar was dressed dark brown robes, though they were of the same tailoring; it was still the uniform, after all. She led the Jedi through the dizzying maze of identical hallways, staying mostly quiet, though she seemed to wish to say something.

"It eez very dark here, no?" she asked finally. "Not only with one's eyes but one's senses."

She paused. "It eez very... distracting, eez it not?"

"I 'ad asked for permission to escort you to a meditation chamber, you see. As Valten said, you are our guest, no? A prisoner, yes, but one worzy of some respect." Iscandar sighed. "I - and some ozzers - do not use ze Dark, you see, but ze Dark... it eez overpowering 'ere. So chambers were made to allow for less trouble. It eez to one of zese zat I am taking you. It does not completely block ze Dark, but... it eez like a breath of fresh air."

They stopped at a turbolift and Iscandar pressed her finger to a spot on the wall to the side of the doors. The Twi'lek stepped back and turned to face the Jedi completely.

"I 'ave also come to warn you..." She began to continue, her face getting more serious (if that were possible), but she stopped and turned to the turbolift, which did not seem to be any different. However, there was a presence behind the doors that was very dark; and a slight hint of a presence that had almost no feeling whatsoever.

The doors opened to reveal a woman with brown hair and a severe cast to her features, with two black armoured Stormtroopers flanking her on either side. She held a comm-link in her hand, and the hologram of a man, caped and bearded could be seen. They had been talking obviously, but the woman's eyes were focussed on Laran and Iscandar.

"You have company, I sense. We shall continue this discussion later, Inquisitor Vel Aath. Remember."

The man flickered into non-being, leaving the five of them alone.

"Whatever you are doing with the prisoner, Inquisitor Iscandar, is no longer permitted. Grand Inquisitor Valten has other tasks, and even if he did not, he has not taken the prisoner from under my authority, given by Inquisitor Atrapes. You are to step away, while I continue the interrogation. Inquisitor Atrapes requests you make contact with him at once."

The Stormtroopers marched forward and took the Jedi by her arms, while the alien and human Inquisitors stared at each other for a short moment; but, almost inevitably, the Twi'lek stepped back and bowed.

"As you wish, Inquisitor," Iscandar replied.

Vel Aath, exuding satisfaction, nodded, and gestured to the troopers, who ungently forced the woman to follow the black-clad Inquisitor down the hall. Laran looked back for a moment at the figure of Iscandar, whose expression was mostly unreadable, but a distinct sense of dismay could be sensed from her as the turbolift doors closed on her and blocked her from sight.

Serena could indeed feel 'the dark'... it was pressing in about her every moment of her captivity. That this woman would claim not to use the Dark side, and yet be an Inquisitor, coupled with her claims of a warning and abrupt dismissal only heightened the Jedi's concerns.

Was the Twi'lek an possible ally? Serena was calm between her two Stormtrooper escorts, despite being practically frogmarched down the passageway. And if she was an friend... how?

She returned her focus to the dark haired human Inquisitor who was now leading her down the hall. What was coming next?

Laran was dragged unceremoniously through the hallways, and was once more brought into a dark room with a single 'chair', which she would recognize from her first interrogation. Vel Aath walked over to the centre of the room and watched as the Stormtroopers pressed the Jedi into the chair and strapped her in. A moment passed as they tightened them, and the ominous sound of small repulsors grew audible.

The troopers stepped away, allowing Laran view of the interrogation droid hovering in front of her, bobbing softly, almost as if it were eagerly anticipating the order to begin its gruesome work. A needle extended from within the spherical ball, and drops of whatever drug were within it began to softly exude from the tip.

Finally, Vel Aath made a slight gesture, and the droid began moving closer to the Jedi, the needle jabbing forward like some single tooth or probiscus which would inject poison and drain life from her. Vel Aath remained silent as the droid floated toward the captive and injected her with whatever substance was within the needle.

"Do you believe you are our guest?" Vel Aath asked finally. "Do you truly believe that?"

The droid hovered away as the needle slid back into the orb.

"I know you are misleading us with that planet," she said matter-of-factly. "You know more than you are saying. But I do not care about the other Jedi. I want to know where you remained hidden."

Serena gritted her teeth against the stab of the injection, and felt her thoughts becoming scattered and her grip on the Force becoming tenuous. It seemed that they had upped the dosage from the time in this room previously.

"I have no illusions about my status here, regardless of the inconsistencies of my treatment," she managed, trying to forestall answering the second question. Her jaw clenched unconsciously and she had to work to relax it, staring at the Inquisitor who's face seemed to grow larger in front of her.

The troopers were gone now, and from the floor in front of Laran's chair rose an apparatus that might have been familiar to her, or maybe not. As it reached its full height, the scan grid activated, areas growing bright red as the electrical charges began trying to analyze the Jedi. Laran screamed.

The Inquisitor stalked toward the twitching captive, her eyes sharp and attempting to cut through the woman to the valuable information that she held. Through the Force, Vel Aath could sense the woman's scattered thoughts and the strengthening drug which inhibited her connection to the energy field which granted them both abilities far too unreal to be believed.

"There are no inconsistencies here," Vel Aath replied, whispering into the woman's ear so she could be heard, not only audibly, but also through the Force, using a technique her mentor was known for. When so distracted and in pain, proper use of this technique could sway some of the stronger willed individuals that a mind-trick would not have worked on. The inhibited connection to the Force made this woman essentially an ordinary person - strong-willed, but otherwise unremarkable. "The only inconsistency you perceive is within your own mind. Tell me where you hid for all those years. Or give us information on the Jedi and the Rebellion. Just do that, and the pain will stop."

The pain was unlike anything she had felt before. Serena gritted her teeth after the first screams, but could not keep herself from vocalizing.

Just tell us what we want to know and it will stop...

Tears streamed down her face. It was a reasonable request, wasn't it? Answer the question and it would stop. The scan grid altered the area it was concentrating on and she wailed in pain. They had her crying like a youngling, and she could barely put two thoughts together until there was a break in the agony.

Where did you hide? What do you know of the Rebellion?

"N-nothing. I... hid on V-vortex!" Serena's jaw snapped shut as the grid reactivated, arching her back against the pain that seemed to reverberate through her very bones.

Vel Aath stood, her eyes showing no real reaction to the pain she could see and even feel coursing through the Jedi's body.

"I see," she said, disappointment colouring her tone. "You still refuse to be forthright? Do you believe that misleading us will keep your friends alive?"

She shook her head lightly, and turned away from the Jedi. In tandem with the Inquisitor's movement, the scangrid stopped it's painful work and retracted back into the ground. A few moments were given to the woman to allow for her to gain whatever semblance of focus she could given the drug's affects, and then Vel Aath continued her interrogation.

"Lying to us won't keep them alive, Master Laran," the Inquisitor said quietly. "We've already captured one. Since you refuse to tell us out of some conception that doing so will protect your friends, we'll show you what it truly does instead."

On the far wall, an hologram emitter flared to life, and the image of the woman known to Laran as James, strapped into a similar device as the Jedi was now in. An Inquisitor stood beside her, and turned to face Vel Aath. James was shaking in her seat, and looked like she'd been crying.

"Ah, Inquisitor Vel Aath. Am I to commence?"

"Yes."

The holographic Inquisitor turned to his prisoner and Laran watched as an eerily similar scangrid rose from the ground in front of her. James gasped and twitched, trying to move, but couldn't due to the straps. The hum of the scangrid's activation soon was drowned out by the screams of the prisoner.

Vel Aath watched Laran as the hologram continued. The Inquisitoriate had done its job well, it seemed, as the body, expressions, even the screams had been painstakingly modulated based on what few recordings of the woman they'd managed to acquire. With the drug still coursing through her system strongly, the woman wouldn't be able to tell if this were truly the girl she was trying to protect, or not.

Serena felt her guts twisting at the sight of James screaming on the grid. There was something wrong about the girl's voice, but who knew what they had done to her already. "No... no! Stop!" The Jedi was crying, but she didn't close her eyes against the sight of James' pain. "Dhomanda A'lainn, I was there... they have no technology, they are innocent... she is innocent! Please, just stop... take it out on me instead!"

Serena sagged against the straps holding her in place, tears running down her face.

“We need more than that,” Vel Aath replied, waving her hand. The scangrid stopped its analyzation, but did not power down. The image of James broke down into coughing sobs. “Did you know that the first inhabitants of Alderaan were insects? We can never know for sure now, but studies had been made showing that the creators of the famous and beautiful mounds on Alderaan were not human but insectoid.”

The Inquisitor gave her prisoner a nonplussed look. “What I am saying is that the insects of the Mounds undoubtedly called Alderaan something different than we do – or did.”

“A name such as what you have given me, alone, will not be adequate. We need coordinates, or directions, which must be processed and proven to be trustworthy. And since you are no longer hiding on that planet, you must have left. To leave, you need a ship and a stable space route. And if those exist, coordinates will also.”

Vel Aath looked back at the wall containing the holoprojector. James’s image was taking deep breaths and her eyes were closed.

“You should not have left your planet, Jedi,” Inquisitor Vel Aath sighed. “We have so much more to get the truth from you yet. Sith masks, poisons of all kinds, torture devices, and even people who can make you believe you are not truly imprisoned, who can make you feel safe, and there get you to spill every last secret that you have in your head.

“Concentrate,” she continued. “Concentrate on your planet. Remember it. The drug is still strong in your system, but you can still remember. It has only been a few minutes, but it feels like hours, doesn’t it? Remember, and tell us where that planet is.”

"I have no secrets," Serena said raggedly. "I do not know anything of value. I lived ...in the Outer Rim near Hutt space. The Perlemian Trade Route."

The Inquisitor looked bored, and her eyes kept flicking towards the screen that showed James hanging limply on her own scangrid, brown hair hanging down in her eyes during the respite from the pain. Serena's skin tightened around her eyes, and she added, "It was called RX-271 on the old star charts." Her eyes filled with tears again at what might befall those who had allowed her to live among them for so many years because of her betrayal.

RX-271. With a small touch of the Force, the Inquisitor reached out and searched the disabled Jedi's feelings; unfortunately, beneath the expected pain and suffering, sadness and shock, there was a will of durasteel. There'd be no forceful mind-search today, but Vel Aath could tell that the Jedi was being truthful about the planet. That was enough.

The Inquisitor smiled.

"Thank you, Master Laran," she said, warmth - whether feigned or real - entering her voice where it had not been before. She gestured to the holographic Inquisitor, who immediately began undoing the straps keeping James in the 'chair'. The holograph blinked out of existence.

The door to the interrogation chamber opened, and there once more stood the two stormtroopers.

"Take her back to her cell," Vel Aath ordered. The troopers saluted and began to free Serena Laran from the interrogation device. Vel Aath watched, and nodded to the Jedi. "Thank you again. We still need answers about the Jedi, but that can wait while we find and put a detachment of Imperial soldiers on RX-271."

Serena said nothing, stumbling between the troopers who were supporting her, her head down. She hurt all over, the Force was gone, and James was still in danger. The Inquisitor would do her research, find that RX-271 was a pre-industrial planet in the Outer Rim that housed a small garrison with minimal orbital support. At least, that was how it had been when Serena had left.

She had no way of knowing if the Stormtroopers had reported sighting a Jedi, or their subsequent loss of her. She guessed that they had not - the garrison had seemed lax to her at the time, a long term assignment for those who had angered someone higher up in command in some fashion, there only to make sure the planet was not taken by the Rebellion as some sort of jumping off point for a blockade of the nearby trade route.

Serena was shoved into her cell, and she staggered to the bunk, lying down as carefully as she could manage. Breathing slowly and deeply she closed her eyes and tried to meditate. But instead of peace she saw a girl strapped to a scangrid and screaming. It wasn't James, however, it was Rhianna.

For two days, Jedi Laran had been tortured. She was given a dose of the drug – enough to dull her senses and focus but not enough to completely scatter her wits – and put through a number of different methods of pain and cruelty for an hour or two, and then released back into her cell to recuperate for three hours or so. After the three hours, the torture would recommence until she was given another two hours of rest until the cycle began again.

In all of this, Laran was allowed little sleep, and little food, and was asked no questions. And the entire program of sorts was merely to prepare her for the next round of questioning, which was regarded as being difficult, even with these preparations; she'd likely allow her friends to suffer and perish rather than give up the hiding place of the rest of the Jedi.

Inquisitor Atrapes considered her rather lucky; she could have been subjected to the Sith Mask they had within their vast halls of devices. It operated almost ingeniously: the Jedi would reach out to the Force, and meet instead with Darkness so impenetrable, it would cause her pain. It was also psychological, in that it would actively work to twist the Jedi's own sense of the Force into Darkness, allowing her to hear (it would not allow her to see), and feel what the Darkness filtered. Her weeping and cries would turn into laughter. Her horror and grief would be filtered back into her as dark pleasure and exultation in the pain of others. Images of peace would burn and the dark energy's satisfaction would be introduced to her as her own. Taking whatever repressed guilt and shame which must have followed her admittance of the planet, it would endlessly replay and amplify those emotions.

With enough time in that, the Jedi would surely break.

Just thinking about it made the Inquisitor want to study it; to find out its secrets and make them his own. He wanted to use it, and study its effects while the Jedi screamed.

He felt he needed to, after the dismal results of his illusions on Belargic. Thus, they had to make due with this preparation. A room with a scangrid and holoprojector was requisitioned, and an interrogation droid made ready; Atrapes waited with them in the interrogation room for the Inquisitorial Troopers to bring Laran in and begin the questioning about the Jedi: how many there were, and how to find them, or lure them into a trap where they could be destroyed or greatly diminished.