Marchion Ro walked down the hall, passing the poor wretches in the torture cells, coming to the last. The Jedi looked up, his face calm—but his eyes were tired. He could act as serene as he liked, but the emotional turmoil he must be sensing from the other prisoners was clearly achieving the intended effect. He had to be in pain, too—he had a badly broken leg, and Marchion had made exactly none of the high-tech medical facilities just a few decks up available to the man.

The Twi’lek moved quickly, lifting a hand with two fingers extended and speaking a single sentence.

“You will release us all,” he said.

Marchion felt the pressure of the Jedi’s intention washing across his mind. He wanted to do what the Twi’lek asked. Why wouldn’t he?

Because he was Marchion Ro.

He smiled.

“It’s not going to happen, Jedi,” he said. “My family knew all about you people. They told me what you could do, and how to resist it.”

He gestured vaguely toward the other cells.

“They’re not getting out, either. If they die, I’ll just bring in more. Their job is to fill this entire deck with pain and anger and fear. Makes it hard for you to think, doesn’t it? Hard for you to call on the Force.”

He leaned back against a nearby wall and crossed his arms.

“My grandmother told me how to do it; she learned from hers. You don’t imprison Jedi behind bars. You do it with pain. I never had a chance to try it—but it seems like it works well enough.”

One of the other prisoners moaned—not even enough energy left to scream, Marchion thought. The Jedi did not look. His eyes never left Marchion Ro’s face.

“What’s your name?” he asked. “I don’t want to just keep calling you Jedi.”

“Loden Greatstorm,” the Jedi answered.

Marchion’s eyes went wide. He pushed himself off the wall.

“Loden…Greatstorm?” he said. “By the Path, that’s too perfect. It’s truly a great pleasure to meet you, my friend. I think we will accomplish wonderful things together.”

“What things?” Loden said. “Why are you doing this?”

Marchion laughed.

“You want my grand plan, Jedi? I don’t do that. Plans can fail, at any step along the way. I have a goal, and goals can be achieved in any number of ways. As long as you get where you want to in the end, the roads you took don’t matter. It’s all the same path.”

“Your goal, then,” the Jedi said.

Marchion thought for a moment, considered his words.