Careful with that thing; it's been though hell

XXX - Purgatory, Pt. II

The Second Sister has witnessed and endured many, many galaxy-altering events during her years of service to the Empire.

During this time, she has discovered several things that many—if not most personnel of the Empire are hardly aware of. Difficult things. Extraordinary things.

As the Second Sister, she has since discovered the dying sounds of every species in the galaxy as her lightsaber drives through skin and flesh. She has learned of every intimate method possible to rip sinew from bone with the Force. And she has witnessed firsthand the grip of Death. So much death. Most, if not all of it at the hands of her and the Inquisition.

And yet, laying eyes on the sight of a very much broken Cal Kestis for the first time still makes her gut twist in unease.

When Vader finally lets her back into the room, days of relentless torment later, Trilla finds Cal curled up on the floor, mostly out of the pieces of his uniform and shivering in a pool of his own blood and sweat. He curls into himself as the hallway light fills the small room; from where she stands, Trilla can practically feel the dread rolling off him in waves through the Force. But her gaze is focused on his legs. His legs are...they're not so much legs, now, as they are useless pieces of brittle bone and torn flesh attached to his lower half.

There's a hollow gaze in his eyes that wasn't there before. And that is all the confirmation she needs to realise that Vader has succeeded in doing what she has not.

She doesn't know how to feel about that—insulted, perhaps, but also humbled. She cannot deny that Vader's methods are, and always will be, successful. This accomplishment is yet another example of his capabilities.

Trilla crouches down in front of Cal. He flinches and turns away, his face contorting in undisguised agony.

"Cal?" She begins gently.

Cal flinches at his name and retreats further back. A soft keening sound pushes past his lips as a renewed wave of pain, presumably, hits him again. "I'm sorry," He mumbles, his eyes closed. "I'm weak. I failed."

Trilla sits on the floor next to him. It's sticky with...blood, among other things. "You are strong, Cal," She begins gently. "And you didn't fail. Everything is fine now."

But Cal just shakes his head. Trilla has never seen him smaller. "They're not coming for me," He whispers, sounding nearly too afraid to admit it. "They abandoned me. I failed."

"Who abandoned you?"

Cal coughs. A trail of scarlet blood appears on his already cracked and bloody lips. "My..." He shivers. "My friends. Cere. Merrin. Greez. Master Tapal. Ellys. They're gone. They're not coming back. I failed them."

Trilla reaches out; she lays a hand on his shoulder. Cal doesn't flinch, but he looks up at her, and his eyes are bloodshot and...absolutely devoid of life and hope. Trilla never knew it was possible for the brave little Padawan to look so utterly defeated.

"I'm still here," She points out. "I'm here, Cal. Let me help you."

He shakes his head, gaze focusing past her, towards the door. "Vader," He begins.

"Lord Vader is gone," Trilla says firmly. "I made him leave." She'd seen to it that he did, in fact, depart. As they speak, he's already en route back to his TIE Advanced, towards Nur, back to the Fortress. There's nothing left for him here. He has accomplished his mission. Just as he promised.

Cal coughs. "You..." For a second, she sees a flicker of hope spark in his eyes. Exactly what she'd been looking for. "You can do that?"

She smiles. "Why not?" She tilts his chin towards her, then offers a bottle of water to him. "You don't need to be afraid anymore. I promise this."

Cal blinks. "Okay." He parts his lips; she tips the water into his mouth. When he doesn't want more, Trilla pulls away and places it on the floor, then takes out the stim she brought for him. The green glow catches his eye.

"Is that for me?" Cal asks. She nods, then puts it in his arm. Immediately, she observes life seep back into his veins. But no amount of stims can repair the damage done to his legs. That is a different complication for a different set of hands: namely, AV-3's.

Trilla makes a mental note to find the droid later. Then she shifts to sit down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. Cal blinks up at her, looking absolutely drained—and shifts to rest his heavy head against her.

"What happens next?" He asks quietly, looking at the floor.

"Nothing, for now," She assures him. "You need time to heal. Time I will be glad to provide you with."

A pause. "Oh."

More silence. Then Trilla decides to speak. "I would like to apologise again, Cal," She says, injecting sorrow and regret into her tone. "This was never meant to happen. If I could change things, I would."

Silence. Perhaps Cal is trying to decide if her words are a threat or not. When Trilla starts to wonder if he will ever reply, he speaks up. "I...that's okay. It's not your fault."

Trilla smiles to herself, already more content, more victorious than she has felt in days. I know.

——

"I spoke with him."

"And?" The Grand Inquisitor is expressionless through the holoprojector. "Was he telling the truth?"

"Yes, I believe so. I could see it in his eyes."

"What is the Ninth Sister's opinion?"

Owing to her empathic Force abilities, the Ninth Sister's presence had been an annoyance, but was necessary to confirm Vader's work.

Trilla thinks back to Cal and the Ninth Sister's meeting. She had been stunned, taking in the sight of Cal, silent and jaw agape while Cal had shied further away into the shadows, resembling an abused, feral creature and not making a single sound.

Once the shock had worn off, the Ninth Sister laughed. Then she laughed some more. "Congratulations, Second Sister," She'd snorted, clapping her prosthetic hand on Trilla's shoulder. "You've got yourself one broken-in Bracca scrap rat."

"She agrees with me."

"Then you have succeeded, Second Sister," The Inquisitor concludes. "But neither I nor Lord Vader will forget that his assistance was necessary to make this development possible." He fixes her with a glare felt across several light-years. "You will need to double your effort from now on to prove your effectiveness to us. Is that understood?"

Normally, Trilla would feel insulted. But their—her—recent success with Cal Kestis is far too magnificent to be dampened now by cheap admonishment. So she just nods.

The Grand Inquisitor seems satisfied by that. "Good. Then you may proceed with the next phase of Project Harvester." He pauses. "Alongside our newest member of the Inquisition. Continue to update me."

Trilla dips her head, hand already reaching out to end the transmission. "It will be done, Grand Inquisitor."