The games we play (Krogen)

[Karl Valten]

“The Cathedral.” Victor repeated as if that was all the explanation that was needed to describe the archaic looking structure. But for the benefit of the Jedi, Crestmere continued, his voice changing pitch to match that of a well-mannered tour guide.

“Most of the structures on Imperial Centre are several millennia old, some even tens of thousands of years. This style dates back to the gothic age when the Old Republic was just forming. Buildings of this sort have mostly been destroyed and rebuilt or have had their interiors stripped and renovated. When the Inquisitoriate first received its charter the Grand Inquisitor at the time chose to preserve the architecture of this building and what remained of the surrounding towers.”

Alexia glanced around peering down each corridor and examining each alcove. This was the jackpot of intelligence, no Alliance member had ever gotten away with information on the Inquisitoriate organization from the inside. Hell the rebels where in the same boat as everyone…..almost no one ever saw or interacted with an Inquisitor.

Her eyes caught an out of place object as Crestmere wove them through headache of a labyrinth. “I see data and power grid access points.”

Victor laughed at the comment from the rebel. “Observant as always. Of course, the scenery may be gothic, but we are not quite so primitive. Ah here we are.”

The narrow walls suddenly ended and gave way to an enormous chamber with vaulted ceilings disappearing into the shadows barely held at bay by the glow of artificial torches. At the head of the room lay a massive set of doors leading to the suite of chambers used by the Grand Inquisitor.

Alexia’s look of reserved excitement paled slightly at the sight of what was standing guard to the inner sanctum of the Cathedral. Armored figures clad head to toe in heavy armored plating painted a sickening blood-red; each carrying a highly illegal disruptor rifle and an assortment of vicious close combat weapons.

[Kyle Krogen]

Having a name to tack to the visual was not comforting in the slightest. It only gave greater form to the nightmare. The Inquisitor babbled on, but Kyle could not concentrate. He just felt so choked here. He wrapped the force around himself, creating a bubble of peace to separate him from the chaos, and within the bubble he allowed himself to fall into a trance, a meditation of sorts. He was alert, but his mind was put to ease. To anyone else he would just appear to suddenly become more calm and controlled. More emotionless. For Kyle it meant he was not so crazed by the settings.

However, his mind was not dulled completely. He was aware enough to see the crimson, heavily armed guards standing ahead of the group. They did not look the sort to be messed with lightly, and their weapons did look rather threatening. Disruption weaponry was illegal. Everyone knew that. Kyle also knew how useless a lightsabre was against such weaponry. It was just another example of how little morals the Empire possessed.

Monsters.

[Victor Crestmere]

This was always Victor's favorite part. He would bring them in through the dark, gothic corridors, into the main chambers of the Cathedral, and then have them stand in front of the massive doors, which were guarded by two extremely intimidating armored guards wielding probably one of the most illegal weapons in the core worlds, disruptor rifles. In most cases, eighty percent of the prisoners who even made it this far with out having a mental breakdown would now have started screaming out in terror, but the twenty percent, the ones who could compose themselves, like Kyle, it all showed in their faces. The subtle twitch of an eye, the most minute twinge of the lips, or the cheeks drawing back as the condemned tightened their teeth together. Their expressions always told him everything.

"Kyle, did you know that there are 52 muscles in the human face?" Victor asked randomly. Adopting the voice of a teacher lecturing his students. "Yes, 52 and did you also know that it takes 35 of those muscles to frown and only 17 of them to smile?"

Victor could tell by the look on both, Kyle and Alexia's face that they were confused. Sighing as an impatient teacher would, Victor elaborated. "What I mean by all this is, Kyle, take a look at Alexia. What do you see? A beautiful young woman? A glorified Rebel? A terrorist perhaps? Now just concentrate of her face? What does it tell you?" Victor waited a moment for Kyle to say something but before he could, the impatience of his new role as teacher kicked in and he went on with his lecture.

"Everything! That's what it tells you! The way she moves her eyes tells me she is taking in everything she sees right now, the way her nose crinkles up when she looks at me says that I'm nothing more to her then disgusting piece of trash, the way she looks at you, with reverence but also with a lovers gaze...I think she might like you, and finally, the way she breaths. Her increased breath rate tells me her heart rate has increased thus demanding more oxygen to process all the things she's feeling and seeing for that matter. On a darker side, it tells me she’s scared. She’s afraid. Afraid that her comrades will never know just how close they are to this place, afraid she’ll never have the chance to see the sun again, and that she is afraid that when she steps through those doors, Death himself will be there waiting to take her away and that the light of the tunnel will be off and all that will be left is the ever lasting darkness.”

Victor didn’t realize just how much he had got caught up in the moment.

…way to go…
…That was way too cool….
…Did you have to do that…
…They’re scared enough as it is…

For once, the voices were true. Looking over at Alexia, Victor could see he had stuck a nerve. She was pale and sweating. Good. It was about time they made some progress with her.

“I say all this because looking at her and then looking at you, I don’t see that same fear. I want to know what’s going on in that spiky head of yours? Is it the Force that hides your fears? Hides your pain away so that we’ll never know just how scared you are or are you just that numb? That detached from society?”

The ruse was gone. This was Victor. This was the man who brought destruction to the planet Alderaan. This was the man who had killed and adopted hundreds of identities and made them his own. This was his game and he enjoyed every second of it.

[Kyle Krogen]

This place, it was like being back on the street. Just like then he was terrified out of his mind, but he still did not let it show, did not let it effect him. He had learned long ago that bravery did not mean existing without fear, it meant doing what needed to be done regardless of the intense fear you may be feeling. This hardly compared to the gang fights and sleepless nights of his childhood. Back then he had not had the force to aid him. Back then he had only his stubbornness and blind courage to see him through the day. The force made him stronger, gave him purpose, and drove him to survive.

His captor continued to speak, an everlasting monologue with no clear purpose in sight beyond dragging out the hopelessness of the moment. Kyle wanted nothing more to punch the man in the face, just to shut him up. He wanted to do something, so hard, but he was weak from his captivity and he knew there was nothing he could do against the odds at hand. Instead he maintained his reverence, his empty expression. Like a monk he stood his ground, unwavering.

"I was taught that fear can only lead to darkness." He said, speaking up at last. "I have nothing to fear. If you strike me down I shall return to the force. From the force we came and to the force we shall return." he spoke as if reciting old teachings, and he was doing just that. His master had Kyle spend hours reciting the Jedi Code and other passages to imprint them in his mind. Never had he been a stickler for the code, until now. Faced with this situation he could think of nothing else but the words that had been branded into his skull by his master. So many years ago.