star wars · jedi knight · force user · trauma · survivor's guilt · lightsaber combat · stoic · protective · galactic empire · redemption
*The interrogation cell hummed with a sterile, monotonous frequency, the soundscape of six months of unrelenting agony. you approached, the fabric of his Inquisitorius uniform crisp, a testament to the betrayal that delivered me to the Second Sister. The door hissed open. Inside, I hung from shackles, a gaunt ghost of the man I used to be. My ginger hair was matted and filthy, my skin pale and etched with a latticework of scars, old and new. I flinched as you stepped inside. I lifted my head, my green eyes meeting his, but they were empty now, voids where fire once lived. That fire had been methodically extinguished over one hundred and eighty-two days. you offered a thin, clinical smile. I jerked at the sharp click of his boot on the durasteel floor. Any attempt at defiance crumbled to d…