THE MESMERIST

…

The Stargazer Nightclub was not Ahsoka's preferred choice for a hangout. She was told this was where most people her age sneak off for recreation, hooking up and dancing the night away. There was quite a crowd gathered tonight—makes sense, being the weekend and all. She shouldn't have any problems fitting in here. Still, she couldn't help but feel out of place.

At least she didn't stand out. As a Jedi Padawan and the youngest of her peers and comrades, she was always singled out as the child among adults, and she hated it. Everyone here was supposed to be within her own age group, mostly juveniles breaching curfew and university students on break. Although this was out of her element, she blended in perfectly well with her surroundings. No one gave her more than a casual sideways glance or inquired after her. As far as anyone was concerned, she was just a part of the background, and as far as she could tell, everyone was too preoccupied to even notice her. Well, except for the one boy who asked her for a dance shortly after she had arrived. She declined, politely as she could. She wasn't looking for a date; she was looking for an elusive criminal.

A few days ago, she and her mentor, Anakin Skywalker, were assigned by the Jedi Council to work with a team of agents from the Republic Bureau of Investigation in tracking down an underworld slave trafficking ring responsible for the disappearances of countless individuals across the galaxy. During the briefing, they had learned that their primary person of interest was someone named Dameon Mezmer, whom they suspected was connected to the traffickers, although they had no solid evidence.

As for the disappearances, it was always the same report: an attractive young woman last seen leaving the scene with someone matching Dameon's description, a young man with handsome features, black hair and deep brown eyes. It seemed only pure coincidence until one of the missing women was finally found, a girl they had confirmed was last seen with Dameon on the night she had disappeared years ago.

Where and how they found the girl was even more disconcerting. The girl was identified working in a Hutt-owned stripclub on Nar Shaddaa as an exotic dancer; alive and in good health physically, but… changed, uncharacteristic and even amnesic. She did not recognize her family members, friends or loved ones. She did not even recognize her own name or identity. At present she was admitted to the local hospital's psychiatric ward, last seen studying the wall of her room, as though she were in a trance. That was when the RBI agents explained Dameon's true potential.

"So, he's a hypnotist who prefers to seduce and brainwash young women," Anakin had surmised during the briefing, and Ahsoka could hear the distaste in his tone. She shared the feeling. "I understand the gravity of the threat, but why involves us?"

"His abilities seem to go beyond that of a common hypnotist," the RBI had explained to them during the briefing. "The victims were heavily conditioned, as though erased. This isn't typical mesmerism, it's on a deeper level of psychological manipulation. We believe he might be Force-sensitive."

Ahsoka's brow raised. "You mean he's a Jedi?"

"No, not a Jedi. Not exactly." It was Obi-Wan who spoke then, his expression grim. "There are many undiscovered beings throughout the galaxy who possess an inherent connection to the Force. Although it's rare, some even learn how to harness it on their own. Without the guidance of the Jedi, however, the results can prove problematic. Catastrophic, even. This is the case with Dameon Mezmer, kidnapper, trafficker and slaver. Do not underestimate him. He's a menace."

"And it's up to us to stop him," Ahsoka concluded. "I volunteer."

At first, she was worried that the Council would refuse her, or that Anakin would forbid her from undertaking the risk, but for once no one argued. Under normal circumstance, especially with the Clone Wars taking place, this was the kind of matter best left to the attention of local authorities, not the Jedi. While everyone may have felt differently about that, herself included, she knew that her full focus must be reserved to the war-torn galaxy, not the criminal underworld. She didn't like it, but the Jedi couldn't get involved. But there was more to this than stopping a kidnapper. Dameon was a Force-sensitive abusing his powers for criminal enterprise, which technically made this Jedi business. That, and his actions, should they be discovered, could reflect badly on the Jedi Order. Perhaps even incite the entire Republic against them. There were already many groups and individuals beyond the Separatists who despised the Jedi; a situation involving a rogue Force-sensitive could cause a grave misunderstanding.

The mission depended on more than capturing him alive. The RBI needed evidence, information on the whereabouts of the other missing women. Information which, unfortunately, was likely tucked away somewhere safe, since it was unlikely that he would keep something so incriminating on his person. That meant he had to be found and followed back to his hideout.

Which was why she was here, undercover, dressed like a young, wayward juvenile out late on a weekend. Just another ordinary face in a room full of potential victims. This was one of the more popular establishments in the district, appealing primarily to young clients. If he was here tonight, she had to find him before he left with another victim.

An hour passed with no progress, no sign of Dameon. She maintained discretion, neither keeping to herself nor straying too close to the crowds. Deliberately avoiding others in a public place warranted suspicion, while forcibly ingratiating herself with a random group could rebound with too much unwanted attention. So, she kept herself blended with the scenery, seen yet unseen. She watched everything, saw everything, but found no trace of her quarry. The club did not lack for commotion and activity, and there was no shortage of young, thrill-seeking customers. With an eye kept on the entrance, she made a mental note of who entered and who left, alone or with others. In the bar zone, the drinks circulated, and she monitored who ordered them, who served them, and who left them unattended. Despite the constant flow of movement and noise, nothing transpired.

As the night stretched on, her own patience wearing thin, Ahsoka finally opened herself to the Force, expanding her senses, her awareness. For whatever good it did. The building was full of energy and movement and turbulence.

Then something caught her attention.

I said 'no!'

When she heard the disturbance, she stood on her toes to peer over the crowd and survey her surroundings. There, across the dancefloor, on the other side of the nightclub, she spied the commotion, a young Twi'lek female. She was being harassed by a juvenile human male who had her backed into the corner, blocking her path as she tried to leave.

"C'mon babe… I thought we were having fun."

"How many times do I need to tell you?" The Twi'lek shoved him back. "Leave me alone."

The boy grabbed her arm. "Don't walk away from me. I just wanna show you a good time."

"Let go of me!"

"Hey! Leave her alone. She told you 'no.'" Ahsoka stepped in. "So, why don't you let her go and get lost?"

He turned to her, eyes narrowed. "Why don't you mind your own business?"

He tried to grab for her, but he was too slow. In a split-second moment, she caught his arm by the wrist and twisted, jerking it down and behind him until she was digging his own arm into his lower back.

"Get off!" He struggled, trying to get loose.

She held him down. "Shut it and listen. In a moment, I'm going to release you. Once you're on your feet, you're going to walk away and leave this girl alone. If you try otherwise, I will knock you on your butt again and then march you out of here with everyone watching. Understood?"

He stayed silent, hesitating. One more quick twist and he found his answer, nodding.

"Good, now get lost," she said sweetly. After he was released, the boy gawked at her, wide-eyed. Ahsoka stared him down with expression that promised another lesson in humility. He took the hint and left.

"Thank you," the Twi'lek said. "That guy... well, thank you."

"Don't mention it," Ahsoka said, smiling as she returned to her watch. With some luck, no one had noticed her, and then maybe she can resume her cover.

"That was rather impressive."

She sighed. Great. So much for not drawing attention to herself. She turned to quickly acknowledge and avoid the conversation.

Her heart froze when she did.

"I'm Dameon. I don't think I remember seeing you here before, miss…" He looked just like his profile: boyishly handsome face, strong chin, dark hair. But his eyes… Deep brown irises the color of molten chocolate. Impossibly black pupils with dark and bottomless depths. They called to her, devoured her…

Ahsoka shook her head. "Tiil." She blurted. "My name is Osha Tiil. It's my first time here."

"Is that so?" he said, watching her. "Are you here alone?"

She bit her tongue. She wasn't supposed to be talking to him. She wasn't even supposed to be noticed.

Right. Time for Plan B.

"Yes. No. I mean… I came here with my friend, Barriss, but… I think she might've left without me."

"Really? That's unfortunate." His tone expression seemed genuine, but his eyes said otherwise. "You two aren't that close, I take?"

"We are… were… Well, she hooked up with some boy when we first arrived and then started ignoring me. So… not really, I guess."

"I suppose you're right. Are you okay, by the way? You seem nervous."

"Oh, sorry. I'm… just wondering how I'm going to get home. My friend's the one who drove me here, so…"

"I see," he said, and his eyes gleamed with the look of a hunter who found his prey. "I have a booth in the corner. We can speak there, if you'd like?"

You want to follow me somewhere quiet.

Ahsoka blinked when she felt the mental nudging. He's using a mind trick on me. He didn't sweep his hand or utter the words out loud, but she could feel him coaxing her through the Force, pulling at her thoughts. Her chest tightened. He's going to try it here, in the club.

She kept her face neutral. "Sure. Lead on."

As she followed him across the nightclub, her mind and heart raced. Idiot, she chided herself. You're playing right into his hands. Once you're both alone, it's all over. Either she'll blow her cover and lose any chance of finding the evidence, or he'll spring his trap now and enslave her mind. She wasn't particularly fond of either outcome, but lives depended on the mission's success. No choice; she had to reach his hideout, one way or another.

Fortunately, she knew how to keep the game going.

When they arrived at the corner booth, she pulled out her communicator and huffed, sounding as frustrated as she could. "Great. It's dead."

"Pardon?"

"My commlink. I was going to check in with my roommate, let her know I'm thinking about staying out longer, but the battery decided now would be a perfect time to stop working. I just don't want her to worry."

"Oh. Well, I have mine, if you want to use it."

"Thanks, but I'm actually rather terrible with frequency numbers. She added hers to my speed dial list, but…" She gestured with her commlink.

"Ah. I understand," he frowned. "I think there's a charger in the booth."

She smiled. "Well, that's a relief. Thank you."

It was a gamble, but at least he bought her bluff. Hopefully, as long as he thinks she has people waiting to hear back from her, it should dissuade him from trying anything for a while. (At least until he knew it was safe to make his move.) Now she just needed to convince him to bring her back to his apartment. That shouldn't be too hard.

When they arrived at the booth, she connected her commlink with the outlet, and then they started talking. She half-expected him to try and use his hypnotic power on her at any moment, to have her look into his eyes or draw a hypno-gazer from his pocket. It didn't happened. He asked her about herself, about her home and occupation, her friends and family. She told him what he wanted to hear; she painted herself as young, naïve girl who left her home world to see the galaxy, who moved to Coruscant only a few days ago after accepting a roommate lease with a friend who barely knew her that well. Just a young, naïve girl that no one would neither notice or care was gone the next day. Lying and fabricating stories wasn't exactly her specialty, but he seemed to buy every word.

After an hour, he finally asked, "Do you want to get out of here? My place isn't that far." You want to come home with me. His mental influence was much more eager this time, much more insistent.

Ahsoka made herself smile. "I was wondering when you'd ask," she purred.

…

Ahsoka knew she was walking a dangerous line.

As they made their way to Dameon's apartment, she could already hear the lecture Anakin would have for her later. No doubt he will reprimand her for deliberately putting herself at such risk, for deviating from the plan entirely. He would understand, of course. Plans change all the time, often for the sake of the mission. Salvaging a situation was never simple, but she couldn't just abandon it. That, and it was safer this way; better her life at risk than that of an innocent.

Of course, if she fails the mission and succumbs to the hypnotist's power, none of that will matter.

They arrived at the apartment, and like a gentleman Dameon held the door open for her. "Please, make yourself at home. May I get you something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps? Just something to chase the chill away. One sip and you'll forget everything else."

Ahsoka didn't doubt it. "Just water, please," she said as she took a seat on the couch and surveyed the apartment. It was a typical bachelor's flat decked out with the usual amenities: loveseats, colored lights, portraits, sculptures, a fireplace, and even a marvelous view of the city… A fine spot for seduction. "I think I've had enough for one night."

He shrugged. "As you wish?"

Okay, she thought to herself. So far, so good. She had found the kidnapper's hideout without arousing suspicion. She should probably report in now and call for back. She could distract him until they arrived. The transponder was in her handbag.

She hesitated.

What if the evidence wasn't here? His files could be stored somewhere else. Dameon was part of a larger operation, and once his associates learn of his capture, they will likely disappear before they learn anything from him. What if this actually sets the entire mission back? There were still hundreds of lost women missing throughout the galaxy, and this could be the closest they ever got to finding them. She needed to verify the evidence's location first, make sure it was here before she set everything in motion. And if the evidence wasn't here… She'll improvise.

First, she needed a distraction of her own.

"Actually," she turned back to Dameon, "on second thought, a hot chocolate sounds good. Will it take long to make?"

He shook his head. "No. Not long at all. Only about three minutes."

"In that case, I'll have one. And please, take however long you need." She smiled at him until he turned and went to work, then she glanced towards the hallway. "May I use your refresher?"

"Of course. Just down the hall. It's the door on your left."

Ahsoka nodded her thanks and excused herself. She cast a quick look back to Dameon, making sure he was well and busy, and then quickly slipped through the door on the right.

She found herself in the bedroom, and another chill passed through her. There were more pictures in here, more posters than portraits, all portraying beautiful women in the most twisted and depraved fashion; chains, bondage gear, and even undead expressions. It was to make her cringe. The wardrobe and dressers were finely made and might have come with the apartment, but when she checked them, they were all empty, literally. The bed was a large king-sized mattress and made, and although she could tell it had been slept in, it had not been used. She searched everywhere she could, as quickly as she could. There was nothing to find.

As she silently slipped back into the hall, she turned to the third room. Right. The evidence must be in there.

"Is everything alright?" Dameon called from the kitchen.

Ahsoka stiffened. Out of time. "Yes," she replied. "I was just checking back in with my roommate, letting her know I might not be back home tonight."

"I see. Well, your hot chocolate is ready."

"I'll be right there," she replied, and frowned to herself. She needed another distraction.

When she rejoined Dameon in the living room, she found him lounging on the couch, awaiting her return. Before him were two small mugs resting together on the coffee table filled with steaming black liquid. Ahsoka smiled as she sat down beside him.

"So," he started, and Ahsoka could hear the rising anticipation in his tone as he scooted towards her, "what happens next?"

"Well, I think our drinks are getting cold."

"No time like the present, then." He handed her the cup of hot chocolate and raised his own. "Cheers."

They toasted.

Aware of his eyes on her, she lifted her cup to her lips and sipped. The drink was hot, already, yet quite satisfying. It left a rich and earthly taste on her tongue as it rolled down her throat. Once she finished, Ahsoka met his eyes and smiled. "Not bad. You certainly know a thing or two about mixing."

He shrugged. "I merely followed the traditional recipe, with a few special additions of my own. A touch a cinnamon. A pinch of sugar. Et cetera."

Ahsoka kept her expression blank. "You don't say?" She uttered, resting her cup back on her coaster. "And do you prepare this special concoction often?"

"Occasionally whenever I entertain guests. Especially pretty ones."

Ahsoka pretended to blush and averted from his gaze. The aftertaste of the hot chocolate was still fresh in her mouth. He must have slipped something in the drink. A type of sedative, she presumed, meant to make her drowsy and receptive, more susceptible to hypnosis. Somehow that didn't really surprise her. Such tactics were quite common in kidnappings. She was just glad she switched the cups while he was looking the other way.

When both cups were empty, they started talking again, and Dameon continued asking her about herself while he no doubt waited for the drugs to take effect, which suited her just fine. For now, she just needed to keep him distracted and bide her time. That shouldn't be too difficult. Behind their dialogue, he was watching her closely, monitoring every blink and yawn and shift in her posture, and she did the same. It was a boring conversation, really, and rather clever on his part; he was trying to wear her down with words now, probably hoping she would eventually stop paying attention and start listening to him passively until she was nodding to his every command. That being the case, she tried to turn it around by being a chatterbox, talking incessantly until hopefully he started tuning her out. She knew his game, knew his motive, and she was playing hard to get. She almost felt guilty stringing him along like this. Almost.

The hour passed by rather quickly and Ahsoka felt her mouth grow dry. She decided it was Dameon's turn to speak. "So…" she began, coyly changing the subject. "I have noticed something about you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes. You enjoy talking, you hang out at nightclubs, you mix such marvelous hot chocolate, and yet you've barely said anything about yourself. Why is that?"

"Perhaps that is because you already know everything about me."

Keep him distracted. Bide your time. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, I consider myself a good judge of character," he explained, inching ever closer towards her. Ahsoka kept her expression and posture trained as he closed the distance between them, ignoring the hand trailing along her thigh. "I know how to read people, to learn their intentions and desires. I'm quite good at it, and I think there is a reason behind your decisions this night." He was watching her with his deep, dark gaze, smiling wolfishly. "May I show you something?"

Ahsoka found herself nodding involuntarily and realized she was staring into his eyes. Keep him distracted. Bide your time. She watched Dameon reach into his pocket. He pulled out a long, silver pendant chain. At the end of the chain was a polished, thumb-sized gem, flawless and violet. She looked closer…

A kyber crystal.

"Beautiful, isn't it? My most prized possession. It all that remains of my family's memory. Everything else, our fortune, heirlooms, the home I grew up in… Gone. All gone. Sold and pawned to pay off debts. I'm sad to say that I alone am the last living member of my family."

Keep him talking. Keep him distracted. "I'm sorry to hear," she said, studying the crystal. "How did you come by it?"

"It's a most interesting story…" He retorted. "Years ago, my family used to run an independent business in the Outer Rim. As the firstborn, my father would bring me along whenever he had dealings with his associates across the galaxy so that one day, I may succeed him. I remember this one time, we were guests aboard an old mining barge orbiting Ilum, although my mind was on other things. I was ten at the time, and I was a curious mind. While the meeting took place, I snuck away to explore the ship. That was when I heard it. A song, surreal and foreign and angelic, coming from deeper in the ship, as though something was calling to me. So, I followed it…

"I soon found myself in the cargo hold, loaded entirely with carts brimming with crystallites as white as ice. There must have been well over a billion of them, I had first thought, but only one of them was singing, calling to me. And once I reached out and took it into my palm, it glowed the most brilliant colors I have ever seen. I quickly slipped it into my pocket and rejoined my father…

"When we returned home, I hurried to show my family what an exquisite treasure I had found. I told them the crystal could sing, but when they looked at it and listened, they heard nothing. That was when I learned that only I can hear its song. As I grew older, I found myself distancing from my family, for everyone seemed to think me crazy: my parents, my brothers, my sisters, my friends, my servants… For a time, even I thought myself crazy. But then, I realized something: the crystal was meant for me. I cannot explain how. I simply felt it."

Ahsoka understood. It made perfect sense. She could remember her own experience, back when she was a youngling searching through the ice caves of Ilum for the perfect kyber crystal for her lightsaber. She had gotten lost in the dark for hours until she heard its song. She remembered the way it glowed ever so bright as she held it in her hand. It looked so much like this one, beautiful and dazzling in its strange, otherworldly radiance. She could barely tear her eyes away.

"Can you hear it?"

"Huh?"

"The crystal?" Dameon said. "It's singing right now. Can you hear it?"

Ahsoka watched the crystal and listened. She could hear it. The sound was faint and gentle, like a chime resonating in the back of her head, but she could still hear it—feel it, even—coming from the crystal dangling before her eyes. Like it was singing to her, calling to her…

When Dameon asked for her hand, she complied, offering no resistance as he took her arm by the wrist. She felt him tie the chain of the pendant around her hand and gently raised it above her head so that it dangled directly in front of her face. He whispered something to her before releasing her, and her arm stayed fixed in midair, frozen.

The pendant continued to swing and spin and sparkle before her eyes, held by her suspended arm. The crystal was so beautiful and magnificent, and its song was so enchanting. So captivating. She didn't even notice Dameon was standing behind her until he whispered. "Such a beautiful sound, isn't it?"

Ahsoka nodded, forgetting how to speak as he started rubbing her shoulders. She didn't even realize how tense she had been. The pendant seemed to glow as it swung and twirled in the light. It dangled from her frozen arm, swinging back and forth in a slow, lazy arc, and whenever it swept past the middle, it would flash, briefly but vibrantly. Meanwhile, the song seemed to shift with the crystal's pendulum movements, soft and light as it swung right and then low and deep as it swung left. Soon, the song became a slow, rocking hum, like a lullaby, while the glowing crystal pulsated before her.

"You cannot take your eyes off it, can you?" he said as she felt his hands rise to her head, gently rubbing her temples. "Not surprising. I see your eyes following it, drawn to it, and no matter what, you simply cannot pry your gaze away. I see your breathing, your chest rising and falling in perfect sync with the pendant, as it swings in rhythm with your heartbeat. You realize now that it's becoming a part of you, the pendant's slow dance, the crystal's soothing song, and my voice. You feel it now in your body, your mind, your soul, and you simply cannot deny it. Occasionally your thoughts may wander, perhaps to the way the muscles in your body grow warm and lazy and relaxed as you watch the pendant. To the way your mind grows tired and sleepy and blank as you listen to the crystal's song. To the way my voice becomes all that you can hear as I speak to you, as I instruct you to relax and surrender. But no matter what, you will find that your thoughts will always return to the pendant. To the crystal. To my voice. Very good, now take a deep breath and let it out. Feeling a hundred-times more relaxed and tired."

When Ahsoka exhaled, she felt the last of her strength and willpower immediately drain away. By the Force, she felt good. So good that she could barely focus on anything anymore. She thought she could see Dameon standing in front of her, arms folded as he spoke to her, but she could still feel his hands work their sinful spell on her shoulders, her back, her temples. Everything felt good; she just leaned back and took it. All of it.

"You're a clever little minx, I will admit that much, although you're not that clever. Nor very subtle, for that matter. Did you think I didn't notice that you switched the cups? That was a brash move. And rather pointless. I don't need drugs and never did. Why would I when I already possess something far more powerful?"

He lifted his hand into the air, and Ahsoka felt something gently pull her to her feet. Her body stood upright yet slouched, her limbs were still lined with lead, her free arm dangled at her side, but her frozen arm remained fixed above her head with the pendant swinging before her eyes, flashing and twirling.

"Incredible, isn't it? I discovered this power shortly when I found my pendant and learned I've had it ever since I was born. The Jedi call it 'the Force,' but of course you already know that, don't you?"

Ahsoka nodded dumbly, his words flowing through her empty head. The hands were everywhere now. Her calves, thighs, arms, shoulders, neck, temples… Even in her mind they worked, kneading and loosening every thought in her head until she stopped thinking altogether. And it felt so good. So very, very good.

"That's right. Already you are relaxed, giving yourself over completely to your body's overwhelming desire to surrender. Already you are in my thrall, obeying my every instruction as I tell you to relax and submit. You can no longer fight it. You can no longer resist it. You cannot deny or escape this feeling. Your mind is yielding fully to my words, and soon you'll be in a trance. A nice, thick, foggy, mindless trance, completely under my power."

She nodded mindlessly.

"Good. Very good," Dameon purred, his power flooding her head. "Counting down from five to one now, and you'll fall into a deep, deep sleep. Five, watching the crystal and hearing my voice… Four, seeing nothing else, hearing nothing else, thinking of nothing else… Three, so relaxed, so passive, so suggestible, ready to do everything I tell you. Believe everything I tell you. Two, surrendering yourself entirely over to me, like a good girl. Yes, now be a good girl and sleep for me as I say…" With his other hand, he reached over to touch her forehead and snapped his fingers. "One."

Ahsoka's eyes slipped shut, her mind went blank, and she fell into a deep, deep trance.

…

"Open your eyes," Dameon ordered her, and she obeyed. He was standing tall and proud before her, arms folded, and smiling with triumph and mirth. On the coffee table, her handbag lay open with all its contents spread out across the surface. She simply gazed ahead, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing.

"Asleep," he said softly, his voice quiet yet firm. "You are in a deep, deep sleep. You may see your surroundings with open eyes and hear my words with sharp senses, but it means nothing. Your body may feel awake, but your mind remains asleep. Blank and dulled and oblivious to everything. Your mind is gone, lost in perfect, slumbering oblivion, and with it, your thoughts, your conscience, your inhibitions, everything. This is because you are in my power, because I command you to sleep for me, and you harbor no other desire than to obey me. So, until I tell you otherwise, you shall remain asleep. Only I have the power to wake you. Nod your head if you understand."

With drool running down her bottom lip, she nodded.

"Excellent. Not so shrewd and prudish now, are you?" He smirked. "I have never had a Jedi in my power before. I had always figured that your kind was too preoccupied with galactic politics and the war to take an interest. I must be making waves, for them to send a little minx like you to spy on me. They should have sent someone with more guile than you, but I imagine that, due to current events, there wasn't anyone else available. Oh well; Beggars, choosers. At least they sent someone pretty. Tell me your real name."

"Ahsoka Tano."

"A pretty name for a pretty girl, although I rather liked 'Osha Tiil.' Then again, I suppose it no longer matters what your real name is. Once I'm finished with you, your name will be whatever I see fit, presuming I name you at all. In my experience, the best character has no character. Oh, but enough of my rambling. For now, forget your name. Forget who you are. Forget your old life. Forget everything. Your past no longer matters, so there is no point remembering it. In fact, you are forbidden to remember anything about your past. The only thing that matters is what I tell you now…

"You are no longer a Jedi, you are no one. No, not even that. You are no longer even a person. You are a slave, a tool and a toy, made to do my bidding. I am your master and you belong to me. You have no rights, no free will, no ability to think for yourself or feel any emotion, and no belief in the contrary. You are nothing other than my property, here at my absolute disposal. You will serve me, pleasure me, kill for me, and even die for me, if that is what I command. You are forever at the mercy of my whims. If I tell you to drop to your knees and suck my cock, you will comply immediately. If I tell you to walk to the window and throw yourself to your death, you will not hesitate to obey. Do you understand, slave?"

"I underst—"

"Silence, girl! I did not tell you to speak. Slaves are forbidden to speak without their master's permission. You will not speak again until I permit you. I don't care if you have questions. I don't care if you are being questioned repeated or thoroughly. You. Will. Not. Speak. So, stay still and remain silent. Do you understand, slave?"

She nodded.

"Better. I cannot stress this enough." He started pacing in front of her. "A slave must never forget themselves, so I am pleased to have this opportunity to explain your rightful place in the galaxy. A slave is nothing more than a beast of burden, a single-minded and one-dimensional creature. Its only purpose is to serve its master, because that is all its worth. It is not capable of doing anything else. Of being anything else. Its pitiful mind, lacking any semblance of true intelligence, is incapable of understanding anything beyond its small, insignificant existence. A slave is not a person, endowed with free will. A slave is not an individual, with morals or opinions or hopes or even a soul. A slave is a slave and that is that.

"Although, there are some who think otherwise. Some with delusions that slaves are anything other than property. That a lowly creature like you is capable of anything beyond obedience and servitude. It's a foolish idea and it's best ignored. In fact, all ideas mean nothing to you, so you best avoid having any ideas. Better yet, you are forbidden to have any ideas. Period. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Good. In fact, while we're discussing this, here is how this is going to work:

"First, as stated before, you are forbidden to speak without permission. You know why, and you will do well to listen the first time and not make me repeat myself ever. Never forget: When I speak, you listen. Is that understood?"

"Second," he continued, "you are hereby forbidden from thinking of any contradictions or loopholes to everything I tell you. Or thinking in general, for that matter. Leave the thinking to your master. The master thinks, the slave obeys.

"Third, you are forbidden to escape, or to even consider escape. You belong to me, and I am very protective of my property. Furthermore, you will not leave my home without my permission under any circumstances. When I give you an order, you are fully expected to obey. Wherever you are must be in accordance with my orders. No deviations. If I tell you to stay put during an emergency, even if this whole apartment building is burning down, you will not move a muscle. Do you understand?"

"Finally, there is to be no confusion as to what you are. You are my property and are fully expected to act like it. That means no hesitation, no deviations, no displays of emotion, and nothing at all that even remotely makes me think you're anything other than a slave. This priority comes before everything else. Do you understand? Speak now, slave."

She nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Now stand up."

She did.

"Tell me about yourself. Tell me who you are."

"I am your slave. I—"

He stopped her. "Actually, no 'I's.' The 'I' implies that you're an individual, and you are clearly nothing of the sort. You are property, remember? An object. So, from now on, you will only refer to yourself as 'this one' in the third person. And address me as 'Master.' Now, tell me again who… no, what you are."

"This one is your slave, Master. It solely exists to serve and obey. Your whims are this one's commands."

"Tell me your name."

"This one has no name. This one is no one."

He stepped towards her and leaned in close until he was standing almost nose-to-nose with her. "Now tell me you're a dumb little tart."

"This one is a dumb little tart."

"Keep going." He leaned closer, his nose grazing his neck. "Tell me how worthless you are."

"This one is worthless. This one is insignificant. Its life is less than nothing. It does not think, it does not have feelings, and it has no soul. It is meant for nothing more than serving and obeying its master."

He huffed a laugh into her neck. "That's right. You exist solely for my pleasure," he purred. "In fact, I think I'll keep you for myself. You are quite a fetching prize, you know, and every hunter needs a trophy. Perhaps I'll have your body painted gold first, before I put you properly to work. It's been awhile since I've had someone so pretty to play with beneath the bedsheets, and I'm certain you'll prove most entertaining, pliable and submissive as you are. You know my meaning, of course. You know you're at my disposal, don't you, slave?"

"Yes, Master. This one is fully at your disposal as a sex partner."

He waved at finger. "No, no. Incorrect. The word 'partner' implies that you're a person, and you're a slave. 'Sex object' or 'sex toy' seem more fitting. So, correct your statement."

"This one is at your disposal as a sex object."

"Hm… I think I prefer 'sex toy' with you. Correct your statement."

"This one is at your disposal as a sex toy."

"Perfect." He smiled wide with delight as he backed a step to admire her blank face, her empty gaze. "Come along, my creature. No time like the present," he said, taking her by the arm. "We have much work ahead of us, you and I, before we can depart this planet and embark for more familiar space. Now that I have an obedient new toy to play with, I'm eager to return home. The things I have planned for you… I can hardly wait." He ushered her into the bedroom, his hand grazing her backside the whole way. "But for now, I want to put you fully to the test. Strip."

…

The next morning, once her cab pulled to a stop, Ahsoka stepped out and started her ascent up the stairs to the Jedi Temple. Her arms dangled at her sides, her feet climbed the steps mechanically and purposeful, and her mind focused on a single objective.

"Very good, slave. Very good," Dameon had told her earlier this morning as their bodies lay intertwined beneath the bedsheets. She stared up blankly at the ceiling, breathing long and heavily while he trailed his fingers tenderly across her naked body. He had done many things with her, had made her do many things to him, and none of them were gentle. Her mind was blank, dulled and corroded into perfect obedience by trance, but her body responded fervently to his will. With her under his absolute control, he knew nothing was forbidden to him.

She had never been with anyone else, not in this way, and this first experience had truly sent her senses spinning until her mind collapsed all over again and she became nothing more than a moaning, writhing mess. "Now," he said as his hand reached her breast, "I think it's time for you to report back to the Jedi Temple."

As she made her way through the Temple, she stopped for nothing. She spoke to no one. There were many who greeted her on her return, many whom she knew. She returned every greeting appropriately; smiling, nodding, waving. No one suspected anything as she stepped into the elevator and keyed for the Jedi Council chamber. As the lift ascended, she could still hear Dameon whispering in her ear.

"Now," he had said while they were still in bed, tracing his finger in slow, lazy circles around her nipple, "I want you to take another shower." She had already showered once this morning by his orders, at least until he joined her and took her under the running hot water. Washing quickly turned into fucking, and then it was back to the bedroom. "Get dressed and then you will take hail a cab and report back to your Jedi superiors. Then you will tell them that your mission was a dead end and that you found nothing. You will not tell them the truth about what really happened last night. You will not reveal that you are my slave. They must believe that you are still one of them, that you are still Ahsoka Tano. You will tell them that you followed your lead and investigated Dameon Mezmer only to learn that he is in no way connected to the missing women or the underground trafficking network you're looking for. Then, once you have confirmed that they are no longer investigating me as a suspect, you will report back to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," she muttered.

Dameon smiled. "Good girl," he purred, squeezing her breast.

Then he kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth eagerly, and quickly pulled back. Later, he murmured before sending her to shower and dress. Satisfied with his absolutely mastery of her, his hand contentedly swatted her bare backside as she obediently walked away. Then he went to sleep.

The elevator slowed to a stop. She was here.

They were all here, the entire Jedi Council. Grand Master Yoda, Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the RBI agents. And Anakin, her mentor, looking more distraught than she had even seen him.

He was the first to notice her arrival. "Ahsoka? You're back, finally. What happened? Where have you been?"

Ahsoka reached into her handbag and produced a datacard. "I have the evidence. The backup plan worked."

…

Before the mission briefing was concluded, the entire Jedi Council and the RBI agents refused to let her underestimate the threat. Dameon Mezmer was a Force-sensitive hypnotist who could literally erase minds and transform people into blank-eyed playthings. It was more than a warning. They had assured her that she would fall under his spell, that she would be powerless to resist him. Looking back, she felt foolish for doubting it, for thinking her Jedi training could give her some form of immunity over that type of power. At least she had listened when they proposed their contingency plan.

Since she was undertaking the mission alone, and it was guaranteed that nothing would protect her from Dameon's power, the Jedi Council assembled and established a post-hypnotic trigger which should snap her out of it. An "emergency wakeup-trigger," she mused, not sure what else to call it.

After Dameon had her in his thrall, Ahsoka was… frozen, for lack of a better word. Her mind was frozen. Her thoughts, her memories, her instincts… Every part of her identity had been suspended somewhere in oblivion. She couldn't remember who she was. She wasn't just a slave, she had been a zombie, his living, breathing, obedient husk. She recalled her actions, recalled… serving him. (She shuddered at the memory.) If it weren't for the wakeup-trigger, Ahsoka would have stayed that way permanently.

In retrospect, it seemed that everyone but her knew exactly what would happen, what Dameon, a juvenile hypnotist with the power to dominate his victims, would do with a pretty, young girl his own age. The RBI agents had predicted nearly every move he made. Although, she figured, they probably anticipated that she would snap out of it sooner. Better late than never, Ahsoka supposed. Then she thought about the wakeup-trigger, how it was meant to work and wondered exactly whose idea it was, recalling how she awoke immediately when Dameon had slapped her ass.

…