Arx Eos City Inquisitorius Headquarters 42 ABY
Contrary to popular belief, the agents of the Inquisitorius were not built on lies, deceit, or corruption. Quite the opposite, actually. When former Grand Master Pravus founded the Inquisitor several years ago, he built the foundations on one principle and one principle alone;
Loyalty.
Loyalty not just to the Brotherhood, but to him. That was what caused so many Inquisitors to comit such unspeakable acts during the purge, acts that if Anders had anything to say about it, would never occur again.
He inspected the oval room with a degree of scrutiny. There were now windows, all the dim lighting was unnatural because of course it was. The walls were lined with mouldy green durasteel whilst imitated in the centre of the room was one of their interrogation chairs, straps and all, reclined so the poor unfortunate soul who was put in it would be unable to gauge their surroundings.
“Happy?” The female Weequay asked. Silver Eyes they called her, Ness'arin Ohnaka, Director of the Inquisitorius ever since Marick Tyris was Voice.
“It is sufficient,” Anders was not going to display any approval or rejection either way. Not that it mattered. He was confident she could read his face like an open book no matter how he tried to hide his thoughts.
“It better be. I do not waste our resources on gut feelings, High Inquisitor. Either this potential recruit of yours succeeds, or else there will be consequences.”
The Chiss raised a brow at her threatening tone. “You are searching for any reason to try and demote me, are you not, Miss Ohnaka?”
“I’ll be watching,” the Weequay pointed to the admittedly well hidden cameras in the room.
“I am aware. Young Sivall has her faults, but I think you’ll find her more tenacious than first impressions will lead you to believe.”
BUDD-E beeped on Anders’ shoulder, signalling Sivall’s arrival to the headquarters.
The Chiss smiled. “I shall meet her in the lobby.”
Sivall stood outside of the spaceport and fiddled with her fingers– while she had been to Arx a couple of times, she had never been outside of the collegium. And now she was staring at the headquarters to the inquisitorious.
Bril would kill her if he knew she was here.
‘What is wrong with you, lora? Have you lost it?’
She could hear his lecture already, telling her she was dangerously close to sinking into the Dark Side again. Telling her that she needed to stop talking to Anders, that he had hurt her, and so on and so on.. She frowned, then began to walk towards the building. She was wearing a simple black turtleneck and place pants with black boots. The thought process was there that if she was gonna sneak around behind her family’s back, she should probably be dressed for it.
The lobby itself shone on an amber hue. Bodies came and went, some giving Sivall a close inspection what others flat out ignored her like she didn’t exist. In the centre stood the man she had been expecting to see, all clad in his robes, little droid perched on his shoulder.
He too, seemed to be alone for the moment and no-one seemed to pay him any mind, though perhaps that was due to his status as a High Inquisitor? Perhaps there was a modicum of respect and superiority when it came to the rank system of the Inquisitorius.
Nonetheless, her fellow Chiss smiled at her. “Good afternoon, Sivall. I trust your journey here was uneventful?”
Sivall gave Anders a deep bow, a sign of respect for her now teacher. Being ignored was nothing new to her– she was basically nothing to the Grants and the people around them –but it was those who looked at her like they were holding up a magnifying glass that unsettled her a little.
She wasn’t used to attention, good or bad.
“Yes, thankfully. Thanks to the new ship, I got here without issue. And.. Good afternoon to you as well, Anders.”
People moved around them. Anders gestured with an extended arm towards a set of double doors. “Shall we?”
He led her through the ensuing maze of pathways and stairs that seemed to descend into the core of the planet itself. Throughout it all, Anders had remained silent with only BUDD-E occasionally checking behind them to see that Sivall was indeed following.
“What are your first impressions of this facility?” Anders asked, finally breaking the silence.
.
Siv followed dutitifully behind her new mentor, eyes carefully observing everything as she walked. The HQ of the Inquisitorious was gorgeously designed and called to her minimalist senses. She had tried her best to develop her spaces in a minimalist designer sense. It was one of the things she bonded with Foxen over– although his bird partner seemed to be more maximalist in fashion.
Flyndt pulled it off though. It suited him.
Her attention was drawn from the archecture by Anders breaking the veil of silence that had fallen over them. She hadn’t really minded it, she was at home in the quiet. She smiled softly, ever pleasant and polite, even to the man who shocked her nearly to death.
“It’s gorgeous. Whoever designed it had amazing taste. Very clean, very… well put together.”
Anders allowed himself a small chuckle. Sivall was so young and so naive. With any luck, this entire process would mature her.
“Yes, indeed it is. Though, much like people, the public exterior is designed to obscure a more twisted interior.”
They approached a set of durasteel blast doors down an abandoned corridor. The older Chiss lowered his head so that his eye could be scanned by the laser by the terminal.
Several layers of thick durasteel slid open with a hiss, revealing a dark, damp, moss-green chamber of sorts. The air was cold and the light was dim. It reeked of desperation and anguish, forming goosebumps on Sivall’s arms.
BUDD-E whined in a low tone, but Anders paid it no attention as he walked into the room.
He stopped at the chair in the centre, an interrogation chair designed for torture and extracting information. Anders rested his left hand along its back like it was an old friend.
He looked Sivall dead in her eyes. “What are your thoughts now?”
Siv frowned softly, crossing her hands in front of her. That sounded about right— most things were like her life with the Grants. On the surface she was their perfect daughter, their life happy, everything just right. She dressed the part, spoke the part, acted the part.
No one knew of the bathtub in the basement, or the bacta tank for when Ju’lia got too mad. No one knew of the small unmarked grave under the courtyard. 124th stone from the left wall, 367th stone from the south wall, 12 stones in total covering her beloved Fia.
When they entered the room, she tensed. She knew what that chair was, she knew what it meant. It had been used on her and she had used it. She had been terrible at interrogation and torture.
A melancholic sense of resignation settled over her, cold seeping into her bones.
Of course. Torture. Always torture.
But this is what she needed to do. To be strong. To protect the people she loved— to be the bulwark so no one else had to be hurt. This is what needed to be done so she could protect her clan, her family, her friends, her Vi’vukust.
Her shoulders squared and her expression drew taut.
“I am not a stranger to uncomfortable truths or means. Beautiful things hide deadly poisons. I always knew that this was a thing that would happen eventually.”
It didn’t make the goosebumps on her skin or the racing of her heart go away. Her trauma screamed at the back of her mind— don’t get in the chair, don’t don’t don’t don’t—
She approached the chair, her red eyes meeting his, even.
“What next, High Inquisitor?”
He didn’t need Telepathy to see the conflict stretch across Sivall’s face. Anders himself was a master of understanding body language. The slightest twitch told a story worth one thousand words. He could see her fighting with the worst enemy of her life.
Herself.
This would truly be a test for her. A small flicker of doubt penetrated his subconscious. Was she ready? Was he pushing her too far?
That flicker vanished like it had been blasted by Force Lightning. There was no turning back now.
The High Inquisitor gestured to the chair and uttered three words that could shatter souls within these walls;
“Take a seat.”
.
She was so scared. She was sure Anders could feel it, could sense it in her. But it didn’t matter that she was scared– she had people to protect and a mentor to make proud.
Silently she slipped into the chair, awaiting Anders’ next orders.
Courage. Good. He knew she was scared, frightened, even. Who could blame her? He didn’t need the Force to tell him as such as he stabbed her wrists and ankles into the seat. Once Anders was satisfied that she was secure, he took a step back and cleared his throat.
“Inquisitors are not only tasked with hunting and eliminating enemies of the Brotherhood. We are keepers of the highest degree of information. We possess knowledge that should never be learnt, secrets that should never be spoken, and merits that our enemies would love to prey from our heads by any means necessary.”
He paused, waiting for any reaction from Sivall. Satisfied, he continued.
“Resisting such intrusions will be your first task. I will infiltrate your mind, pulling your deepest, most buried secrets to the surface. You must force me out, resist me, divert me using nothing but only your mind and willpower. In three days, a fellow Inquisitor will attempt to extract information from your mind. Succeed, and you will move on to the next phase of your training. Fail, and you will return to Selen a mere shell of your former self. Do you accept?”
.
In; one, two.. out; one, two… Remember, this is for your family. This is for Ruka. This is for Alex.
To keep them safe. You have to do this.
She kept repeating those thoughts in her head as Anders spoke, as the panic rose in her chest and throat. Confined and at the mercy of a man she barely knew, who could do anything to her in this moment. She realized how much of a stranger Anders was in this moment, how crazy it was that she was trusting him to not do terrible things to her while she was stuck in this chair.
All the could do at first was nod to answer him, but she wrestled her voice from her vocal chords.
“Understood and accepted.”
Anders had to wonder if Sivall truly understood what she was about to get herself into. She certainly seemed to recognise the chair, or at the very least, what it was for. Who could blame her? If the walls could talk, the stories they would tell of those who sat where she was right now.
“Very well. Brace yourself.”
Anders held out a hand, stopping it inches from her forehead, his fingertips barely a millimeter away from touching her flesh. The dark side guaranteed this would be uncomfortable for her, but this would be Sivall’s true test.
Secretly, Anders denied that he cared if she succeeded, even if his thoughts betrayed him otherwise.
.