<em>The halls were enormous.  Nothing else would have suited her Master more.  A palace built on suffering inside a den of corruption.  Each pathway in this building stretched out into a myriad of possibilities forming a sickening labyrinth that she was forced to navigate.  Fortunately she had been down these halls before, seen into each room that spiraled off from the corridors and felt that familiar revulsion.  The lightsaber at her hip reminded her that she was no longer a slave, no longer a defenseless child.  At that thought she looked behind her to see small, innocent faces huddled behind her.  She had to get them to safety before she found her vengeance.  Justice would have to wait for the innocents.<br/><br/>She pressed onward.  Arrogance once more bleed into the hallways as she passed mirrors lining the interior.  Her own reflection, determined and resolved, stared back at her with conviction.  Kastala Maler had come far under the training of her Jedi masters and she would prosper.  Pushing forward more rooms opened up.  Figures shifting in the shadows performing acts she did not want to witness nor subject the children behind her to see.  Looking back again they were still there, huddled beneath their cloaks.  There had been more she thought to herself but she could not remember how many.<br/><br/>Forward she went and again she passed more mirrors.  Or were they the same mirrors.  Doubt crept into her soul.  A burning was felt on her cheek and she could see a blemish there, like a burn.  A child behind her cried and was shushed by the others.  Grimly she felt her purpose return.  Passing now a new set of rooms she watched a robed figure barter for a child in chains with a pig-faced man.  Disgust welled inside her but justice would wait for the innocents.<br/><br/>More mirrors….the arrogance.  The mark was larger now, swirling like a pattern over her cheek.  Yet the mark was more than that.  Pain again.  Less children now and the robed man again.  A glimpse of a lightsaber and a face.  Something was wrong.  Faster, she had to escape this palace with the children.  Mirrors again and her face was now consumed by the mark, but it was more than that.  A brand, she was branded like cattle.  The pain was intense and all consuming now.  Tears and cries, less children but still there.  Running now she paused only to see the robed man turn toward her.  The face of her Master…a Jedi…a Jedi buying children.  Then his face was a blur and the face was her own.<br/><br/>That branded face stared at her now and behind that face stood children like herself.  All crying and instead Kastala stood in chains.  Her knees buckled and she knelt in front of a mirror to stare at herself as just another slave.  Behind her came the throaty laughter of her Hutt masters in chorus.<br/><br/><strong>We know you Jedi….We never let you go.  We are still here and you are still ours.</strong><br/><br/>The mirror cracked and shattered.  Her face battered and cracked with the mirror until the vision broke into a million shards to pierce her heart with a deafening truth.</em><br/><br/><br/>The alarm sounded to tear her away from that moment.  In a flash her eyes opened to stare at the darkness above.  Her tube had opened, her casket pushed aside while the fluid receded from her body.  Light flashed above her and the alarm pressed into her skull.  Memories flooded back into her mind to remind her she was not on a ship under attack.  Fluid welled up and spewed forth to splash back on her, causing more nausea to well up inside her.  Muscles resisted at first but acquiesced to her will to bring her up and out of the cylinder.<br/><br/>Around her others were having a similar experience but not enough.  Had the ranks of the Wardens been thinned so greatly.  Regardless, Kastala Maler had been called forward to fulfill her ancient duty.  Even if she couldn’t quite remember how long ago her oaths had been made.<br/>