Saga Journeys into Darkness [OC Revolution, Change of Allegiance Challenge]

Title: Journeys into Darkness
Timeframe: 4 BBY (flashbacks to 19-18 BBY)
Genre: Drama, AU OC Backstory
Canonicity: AU where things went different, so really not canon.
Type: Multi-chaper, but short
Characters: Sennah (OC), the Grand Inquisitor, Canon character (don't want to spoil surprise)
Summary: Alternate Universe where Sennah did not go join her clan after leaving the Jedi Order in "Crisis of Faith". What happens if the Second of her Three Visions of the Future came to pass.
Last updated: 05/20/2020
Status: Complete
Other relevant information: Entry for OC Revolution - Change of Allegiance Challenge
Download links: Google Docs

------

Chapter 1:

“So, how did they get to you, Doc?” the new recruit asks in a casually flippant tone. His voice is firm, but she can feel the frayed edges of the human's defiance.

The medic deactivates the crimson forcefield of the cell and passes between the flanking Purge Trooper guards. She sets her kit on the floor and retrieves her tools, then begins patching up the recruit’s injuries. It is, as always, mildly annoying to have to work through a containment field, with its sets of magnetic cuffs on ankles and wrists, keeping a recruit hovering in mid-air. It’s almost as bad as having to work on a recruit strapped into an interrogation chair. But the last thing she wants is to be attacked by a recruit attempting to break free. Most are too weak to try by the time she is called in, but she has had to fend off an attack before.

“Come on-- ngh,” the recruit flinches and grunts involuntarily as the medic pushes a rib back into place. “I remember seeing you in the Temple infirmary. What did these Sithspawn do to you to get you to turn against the Jedi?”

“Nothing.” The medic replies calmly as she injects the cracked rib with a regenerating agent. The rib should be fully healed by tomorrow morning. She makes a mental note to ask the Grand Inquisitor to remind the Ninth Sister to avoid dislocating recruits’ ribs. Especially humans; it is too easy to severely damage their internal organs.

“Nothing, huh?” The recruit laughs weakly. “For some reason I don’t believe you.”

The medic returns her tools to the kit and stands. She removes her protective gloves, uncovering hands that are long-fingered and dexterous. Her large hazel eyes meet the human’s. His teal-blue gaze is haggard, but penetrating, accusatory. Good, she thinks, I have his full attention.

“The Jedi Council turned on us first,” she says quietly, but with a deep-felt conviction. She holds his gaze for a moment. Reaching out through the Force, she feeds the seeds of doubt there in his mind. His expression shifts minutely. She sees a flash of confusion, but feels recognition. He has had these thoughts himself, in his darkest hours. He lowers his head, brown hair hanging loose against his tan skin.

The medic leaves him hanging there in the containment field, his connection to the Force disrupted. Leaves those doubts to burrow further into his heart, undermining the walls of a childhood of Jedi indoctrination.

He has only been here a few days, but he will break before the end of the week.

She continues her rounds: visiting the other recruits, patching up wounds, breaking down walls. Recruits are getting easier to re-educate lately. It has been long enough since the Jedi were purged that the recruits either are too young to have been indoctrinated by the Jedi, or they have been living in dark corners of society for so long that their minds are already full of doubts and fear.

— 15 Years Earlier —

Sennah did not speak to the Grand Master; she had been too afraid. Master Yoda would not have understood her reasons. He would have tried to talk her out of leaving, and he might have even succeeded. She had feared that if she stayed at the Temple, she would face the first of three visions she had seen in the Force earlier that day. The first vision of a possible future had ended in death, not just her own death, but many, many, other Jedi’s too.

She did not belong with the Jedi anyway. She did not know where she belonged, but she could not face the war anymore. No more deaths, no more tragedy. Barriss Offee was right, the Jedi were losing their way, but she had been wrong in how she responded to her fears.

Sennah had fled from the Temple infirmary to her quarters. There she packed the few items that might be useful, but weren’t obviously of Jedi origin. She left behind no note, only her robes, carefully folded, with her lightsaber resting atop them. Her hand shook as she had let the weapon go. It felt like leaving part of her soul behind.

Her first, and only obstacle to leaving the Temple was a lone Temple Guardian. He made his rounds past the little-used speeder hangar where Sennah hesitated, trying to decide if taking a speeder-bike was going too far.

“A little late at night to be embarking on a mission, is it not?” the Guardian asked, his voice smooth and hollow behind his mask.

Sennah’s mind raced for a story, a plausible reason to be here, in plain clothes, in the middle of the night. “I… I’m a medic. I got a call from one of our community clinics, they have an emergency and need supplies.” She gestured to the bag slung over her shoulder. “It’s a rough neighborhood, so it’s best to blend in.”

“Ah, I see,” the Guardian replied. “We usually get an alert from the Infirmary when something like that transpires.”

“Oh.” Sennah said, backing towards the hangar door. Her heart raced as she tried to sound casual and convincing. “Well, I don’t know why it didn’t come through, but, um, I need to be going.”

On a sudden, wild impulse, Sennah reached out to the Guardian’s mind, murmuring to him soothingly: It is alright, just let me go, nothing is wrong.

In response, the Temple Guardian sighed and leaned against a nearby speeder. To Sennah’s surprise, he lowered the hood of his gold-trimmed white robe, and removed his anonymizing mask. Behind it, he was Pau’an, his eyes silver in a white and grey ridged face. He looked at her calmly before shaking his head and sighing again.

“I do not know your true reason for leaving, Knight Medic, nor do I need to know. You are not the first to leave the Temple under the cover of night, nor will you be the last, I fear. At least you did not blow up a hangar to make a statement before leaving.” The Temple Guardian stood again, and bowed to Sennah. “Go, and may the Force be with you. I wish I had your courage.”

Hours later, Sennah still wandered the streets leading away from the Temple. She was not sure where to go. She had tentatively reached out to touch that mind, her clanmate’s. All the times she had reached out to him since she said goodbye to him months ago, he had felt dark and sad. But tonight, he felt bright, resolved. Something had changed for him, he felt hope again. What agony would she cause if she showed up in his life, just as he had gotten over her? Going to her Clan would also lead to that third vision of a possible future, the one that showed her being a wife and a mother. That scared her more than the second vision: a future of a dark unknown she had to outrun or else she would fall to it. Sennah ran deeper into the lower levels, away from her Clan.

Time passed. It was hard to count the days in the perpetual gloom of the manufacturing district she had found shelter in -- until one day, the War came to Coruscant. The Holonews reports were constant, all cameras were trained on the skies where the Separatist droid ships battled with Republic forces. Sennah spent the day huddled in her small apartment, trying hard to shut out the muffled explosions as space fighters swooped into the upper atmosphere and occasionally crashed down to the City-planet below. Equally hard to shut out was the death. Thousands of Clones were battling up there, throwing themselves at the Separatist ships, and so many were dying…

It finally ended, there was a time of quiet as the Holonews praised Jedi General Skywalker for rescuing the Supreme Chancellor and defeating Count Dooku. The other Separatist leaders were being tracked down. Senators increased their calls to grant the Supreme Chancellor more emergency powers, the better to direct resources towards ending the War quickly. It was said the Jedi Council was opposed to the movement, but they did not have a vote in the Senate; they were just its guardians. Sennah hoped, for their sakes, that the Jedi could return to being peacekeepers and advisors someday soon.

Then came the night, the dark, horrible night, when the Living Force began to scream. It brought Sennah to her knees. She felt death, over and over again, echoing through the Force. Full, mature songs of old age, and small, tiny tunes just beginning to find their melody. All ending in sharp, jangled notes of panic and confusion before going suddenly silent. It was like feeling her Master’s death, but multiplied ten thousand-fold as it echoed across the Galaxy. And it just kept going...

It went on for hours, or minutes, or days, she was not sure. Until Sennah managed, with extreme difficulty, to cut herself off from the Living Force. She felt suddenly deaf, not being able to feel the currents of song from the life around her, but it was blessedly silent. As she became aware of her surroundings, and the rawness of her throat, she heard her Holoterminal giving a top of the hour news recap:

Jedi Coup! Jedi Knights, led by key members of the Jedi High Council, have attempted to murder the Supreme Chancellor! There are rumors that he has been wounded, and we expect to be getting an official statement from his office soon. We are also getting reports that, across the galaxy, Jedi Generals and Commanders have similarly turned on their Clone allies. Many have been captured, but most have been killed in self-defense.

The Holonews cameras switched to a view of the Temple complex. Some of the upper towers were burning. A crowd of various beings was gathering at the main gates. Most were curious onlookers, but some were weeping openly, while others shouted angrily.

We’re told that members of the 501st Legion of Clone Troopers are securing the Temple, but there have been reports of pockets of resistance within the complex. Oh, there seems to be some sort of scuffle starting at the main gates.

The Holocameras swooped in on a trio of beings pressing out of the crowd, slipping past the Coruscant Security perimeter. One pushed towards the Clone Commander at the top of the steps, the other two beings clutched desperately at the first, trying to pull him back. The Clones raised their weapons threateningly. Sennah gasped in recognition. It was him, Danyal, the clancousin who had loved her. He was shouting at the Clones, pointing at the Temple. The other two were Gandan and Eda, her uncle and aunt!

We’re not sure what is going on here, but it looks like some citizens are attempting to approach the Jedi Temple gates. They are being warned away by the Clone Troopers, but they don’t seem to be complying.

The Clone Troopers opened fire.

(to be continued...)

 

Oh no! Shouldn’t have read this in public. That was beautiful and very, very sad.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

Heh... Just wait. There's still 2 more chapters to go.

Edit:
Oh, Unless you went to the Google Doc and read it all... Then, there's no more than that (really not going to be returning to this timeline, too horrible).

Sent from my Pixel 3a using Tapatalk

 

Awesome but next time I’m not going to make the mistake of reading it in public! I’ll wait until I get home!!!

 

Chapter 2:

— Present —

“This one’s ready for you again, mind-bender,” rasps the Ninth Sister as she stalks down the hallway. The large Dowutin cracks her knuckles ominously. “All softened up.” The Ninth Sister’s voice holds a sneer of contempt for the medic. She considers the Ryn to be a small, puny thing, with little skill in useful abilities like lightsaber combat. But the Ninth Sister knows she must defer to her superior, or face the wrath of the Grand Inquisitor.

The medic ignores the larger Inquisitor’s tone and passes into the room. The recruit hangs in the air, battered, but, this time at least, there does not seem to be any broken bones. The medic unpacks her tools and begins treating the recruit’s injuries once more.

“Why do you do this?” The recruit whispers through swollen lips. “Patch me up every night so that brute can beat me up again tomorrow.”

“I would not have to continue doing it if you would just truthfully answer her questions, and accept our offer of help,” the medic explains as she passes a dermal regenerator over the recruit’s bruised cheek. His face is now shadowed with multiple days’ growth of beard, spoiling what used to be a rather rakish goatee.

“I’ve already told your big friend, I don’t know of any other Jedi survivors. As far as I knew, I was the only one who survived in the whole Galaxy.” He shrugs as much as his bonds will allow. “I haven’t even considered myself a Jedi. I was only a Padawan when the Republic went to Hell—”

“When the Emperor saved it from chaos,” the medic interrupts, correcting the recruit. “The Republic was corrupt, and the Jedi Council so arrogant, they tried to take control of the Galaxy by force. You were lucky enough to escape their fate, why continue to hold to the mistaken ideals that led to their downfall?”

“Because it’s all I have left.” The recruit whispers, turning his head away.

“Wrong. You have your pain, your anger, your sorrow.” The medic’s voice is quiet, yet firm. Her touch is gentle as she turns his face to meet her eyes. “Use those feelings, make yourself strong enough to break free of the lies the Jedi Council told us before they abandoned us to face the consequences of their hubris. Then help us track down the rest of the fallen order so that we can free them, too.”

The medic impresses the truth of her words onto the recruit’s mind, and feels their roots growing deeper. He is starting to accept them, and she feels his despair begin to shift to anger.


— 14 Years Ago —

The Grand Inquisitor strode through chaos, his face invisible behind his black helmet. A sector-spanning riot had broken out in one of the lower levels of Coruscant. CorSec officers trying to control it had succumbed to the madness themselves and joined the fray, turning on their comrades.

At the center of the melee, however, was a strange dark presence. A being was using the Force to manipulate emotions at an astounding distance, and it was only expanding as the chaos continued. The Grand Inquisitor cared little for the meaningless rabble that were fighting each other to the death around him. The power of the unknown being at the center of it, however, that was intriguing. If the being could be recruited or otherwise harnessed... it could be a valuable asset to the Empire.

The further the Grand Inquisitor traced the dark energy to its source, the quieter the sector became. Bodies lay strewn around the streets, dead, dying or unconscious. Their faces contorted in fear, anger, hatred, locked together in combat that had only ended when one was knocked out, or killed the other. The few beings who had been able to resist the violent urgings had fled when the fighting began.

He felt the mental touch, the urging to give in to his anger, his fears. But the Grand Inquisitor had already done that long ago, when he had turned to the Dark Side. His darkness did not rule him, he ruled it with a durasteel fist.

Within a dimly-lit building, its corners full of grime and debris from years of uncaring residents, the Grand Inquisitor tracked down the source. It was a small huddled shape in a dark corner, a jumble of scraps of ragged clothing. The being mumbled and whimpered to itself, occasionally letting out a wailing moan of anguish. Strewn around the room was a scene of carnage and mutual destruction. Four, perhaps five beings, it was hard to tell in the gloom, had met violent ends at each others’ hands here. As the Grand Inquisitor cautiously approached the cowering form, he began to feel a slight… familiarity. He began to believe he had encountered her before.

“GO AWAY!” The dark shape screamed, her fear of him palpable through the Force. The Grand Inquisitor’s forward progress halted for a moment, he grunted in surprise to find himself turning, obeying her command.

“I am not here to harm you.” The Grand Inquisitor said calmly, turning back to face the woman. He crouched near the dirty floor so he would not be looming over her small form. He continued talking in his smooth, hollow voice. “You are a very intriguing mystery, small one. So much power, and so raw.”

The riot of dark power began to ebb. From the pile of rags, a face appeared. It was surrounded by matted auburn hair and caked with dirt and tears. Her dishevelment could not hide the woman’s very unique racial features, however: a chitinous beak-like nose with fluted holes along the sides, long dexterous fingers with ragged talon-like nails. He had seen her before.

“Knight Medic.” The Grand Inquisitor murmured in surprise. The woman stared up at him in confusion. He reached up and removed his helmet, revealing his ridged, Pau’an face.

“Guardian?” The former Jedi whispered. “How did you survive the Temple’s purge?”

“Quite easily,” the former Temple Guardian replied. “When the Jedi Council betrayed the Republic, I saw the error of the Order’s ways. When the Emperor’s right hand arrived to put down the Temple’s insurrection, I opened the gates to let him in.”

The woman groaned and clasped her hands over her ears. The dark power in the air began to rise again. “How do you make it stop, Guardian? The screaming? I was able to cut myself off from the Force, it made the screaming stop. It’s been months, or maybe years? I don’t know any more. I was safe from the screams. But then they came.” She gestured to the still forms scattered around the room. “They tried to rob me, and when they saw I didn’t have anything to steal, they attacked, and I—I reached out to the Force, but it was so full of fear, and pain. I tried to tell them to leave…”

Darkness gathered around the former Jedi, growing into an almost visible cloud, sparking with small bolts of Force lightning. The Grand Inquisitor began to be mildly concerned for his safety, lest the storm grow any larger. He had been instructed to find the source of the riot and harness it, if possible, and to end it if not. Now was the time to finish his task.

“Hear me, Sister,” the Grand Inquisitor commanded, sternly, but consolingly. “Gather your feelings, there is power in them. You saw it today with the ones who attacked you. Accept the feelings, allow yourself to feel them. Then use them. Use the anger to make yourself strong. Stronger than the fear, stronger than the screams of the unworthy who died. You have survived, because you are stronger than they were. You saw their errors, and did not follow them. I said so then, remember? That I wished I had your courage? Your example helped me make the correct decision when the choice came.”

The woman took a deep breath, and the storm… not so much dissipated, as moved, from an external force to an internal one. The Grand Inquisitor stood and held out a hand to the woman. “What is your name, former Jedi Knight?”

“Sennah,” she replied as she took the Grand Inquisitor’s black-gloved hand and stood. She was somewhat unsteady on her feet but looked to be improving.

“Leave it behind. Discard it with the rags and the filth. Come with me, Sister. Let me help you find purpose in this new galaxy, and you will help us bring order to the chaos.”

 

Chapter 3:

— Present —

The week is ending. The last moment of truth for this recruit: he will join, or he will die. The medic—known to her peers as the Third Sister—deactivates the containment field and unlocks the recruit’s magnetic cuffs. The recruit stands, unsteadily, in the center of his cell, behind a glowing red energy barrier.

“You have had a peaceful night to think, recruit. What is your decision?” The Third Sister asks. “Will you join our efforts to bring order to a Galaxy that was brought to ruin by the corrupt Republic?”

The recruit hesitates, eyeing the woman who has repeatedly made him whole again, and spoken reason and clarity to him in the chaos. She wears a black armored uniform, the glossy durasteel breastplate etched with the Empire's red cogwheel: order and structure within the darkness. She is much smaller than he is, but her presence radiates strength, and a carefully restrained storm of power.

She can feel he is on the brink, anger and defiance warring in his mind. The Third Sister gives his mind a gentle nudge, tipping the scale towards anger. The recruit growls and smashes a fist into the cell wall.

“How could they do this to us?” he shouts, his teal-blue eyes bright with righteous anger. “Teach us that Jedi were guardians of peace, of law and order, all the while conspiring to throw the Republic into chaos so that they could take over.”

“It is exactly what they did,” the Third Sister replies, matching the recruit’s impassioned voice. “And we all fell for it. Our Masters died because of the Council’s manipulations, leaving us alone, with nothing but their flawed teachings to survive on. I do not know about you, but I was completely unprepared for real life outside of their cult of lies. I watched ones who cared for me die because of the Jedi’s treason. I would have died, in squalor and filth, if one of the Emperor’s servants had not saved me, and taught me what is actually required to survive in this Galaxy.”

The recruit paces his cell angrily. “I’ve been so confused, but you, you are the first one who has actually made sense in fifteen years.”

The Third Sister encourages the anger, and the building feeling of kinship.

“It would stop so much fighting if people realised the truth about the Jedi instead of remembering them as some kind of heroes.” The recruit continues his pacing. “How can we help more people to realise this?”

“There was a boy with you,” the Third Sister replies. “One that you had begun to train in the Jedi ways.”

The recruit stumbles a step and catches himself against the wall. He nods, his shoulders slump.

“Will you join us to help save him?” The Third Sister continues. “Your companions are going to be making a desperate attempt to ‘rescue’ you soon. Please help us tell them they have been deceived, that the legacy of the Jedi’s treachery is continuing. Harming a generation of children that were not even born yet when their order fell.”

“I will help you.” The recruit replies. He turns around, arms folded, a new resolve straightening his stance. “I have to make this right. I see it now, I was leading Ezra astray this whole time.”

The Third Sister glances to one side of the hall, outside the recruit’s field of view. A pair of Purge Troopers waits, blasters ready. If somehow the recruit has been able to deceive the Third Sister’s reading of his mind...

“What was your name, former Jedi?” The Third Sister asks, deactivating the crimson forcefield.

“I was called Caleb Dume, once.” The recruit shrugs. “I’ve been going by Kanan Jarrus for the past fifteen years.”

“Leave them both behind in this cell," the Third Sister says, holding out a black-gloved hand. "You are no longer the man those names helped make. You are reborn to the truth.”

The recruit steps out of his cell, and into true freedom for the first time.

“Welcome, Brother, to the Inquisitorius.”

 

Wow, dark story.
Was actually suspecting the captive/new recruit was Kanan from early one. Chilling to see how one descision can lead a character on a totally different path, which was exactly what I envisioned this challenge to be about.
Also nice getting a bit of the Grand Inquisitor, always felt like a bit of a waste to me to kill him so early in rebels.

Great job.

 

I've had at least a vague idea of what each of the 3 visions of possible futures Sennah had in "Crisis of Faith" meant. The first was if she decided to stay in the Temple: she would have died, probably trying to protect those younglings in the Council chamber. (Now I'm wanting to write that story for some reason)
The second was this story, where she fell to the dark side. The third, the one she ultimately chose, was a life with her Clan.

He's been getting some action in the Darth Vader comics, they're good.

Sent from my Pixel 3a using Tapatalk

 

Yikes! (In a good way, just yikes.) I too had a feeling about who the mystery "recruit" might be, and it made the suspense that much more. I really loved/hated/will be haunted by the description of how the Inquisitor found Sennah, in particular. Just the absolute chaos both inner and reflecting into the world around her was chilling. It's so easy to see why she'd feel so much loyalty for bringing her out of that state. She'd really lost absolutely everything as far as she was concerned with the loss of Danyal and her family members. (And that scene -- just oww.)

So yeah. Sennah's darkest timeline is quite something!

 

Remembering today where some of the ideas for Dark!Sennah originated. I was attempting to build Sennah as a playable character in the 2000s-era version of Wizards of the Coast’s d20 Star Wars RPG. Working out her stats, I realized that the same strengths and weaknesses I was giving her in abilities and Force powers were very much the same as the ones I would give if I were building a Sith. The game mechanics that made a Jedi extremely good at healing were the exact same ones that made a Sith an expert at manifesting Force Lightning.

It was an interesting thought. While the dark side opposite of a sword fighter like Obi-Wan would be Darth Maul; the dark side opposite of a healer like Sennah would be Darth Sidious.

If Sennah ever fell, she would be terrifying.

That idea has been floating in my mind for around 20 years. After more recent stories introducing the Inquisitorius, playing Jedi: Fallen Order and seeing the Inquisition HQ, then getting this challenge, the story finally solidified.

Kanan was just an unfortunate collateral casualty along the way. Though, to be honest, while writing the first chapter the recruit I pictured in my head was just as often young red headed Kal Cestis (the protagonist of J:FO)

I decided to go with Kanan because he was better-known and would have a bigger emotional impact on the reader. Especially when you think about how his fall would affect his Space!Family...

(Dark!Sennah-writing RynJedi is an evil b**ch)

 

Wow, there's a fine line between using that type of Force ability for good and not-so-good, huh? It's an insidious (pardon the term) little way to bring others over to their side, and its subtlety lets it sneak in without the victim's awareness, making it so much harder for them to fight it if they don't even know it's there. And I can see where Sennah still has that healer's core inside her-- she believes she's helping and that others will be better off as a result of her actions. She wants things to be better and for others to stop hurting.

That one different choice in the past had a waterfall effect, and now Kanan and the rest of the Rebels crew are about to feel the ramifications. I like Findswoman's description of it as a double-whammy in terms of allegiance changes in this story, because it's so appropriate.

Excellent work!

 

So, I have a small dilemma with this story. I’m going to put it on AO3, but I can’t decide if I should tag Kanan in it or not. On one hand it would bring in some readers searching for Kanan stories, but on the other, it kind of ruins the surprise...

Suggestions?