BODHI KNEW he was going to hate this. Saw Gerrera’s rebels had finally managed to scrape up that Bor Gullet they were talking about, and to prepare him for it they’d strapped him to a chair so tightly he could barely feel his arms. Then they’d sent the creature into Bodhi’s rough and dirty prison cell.
Bor was like nothing Bodhi had ever seen. It resembled a sea creature, with more tentacles than Bodhi cared to count, but it moved about on dry land rather than in the water. Bodhi wasn’t sure how they’d even managed to get Bor into the rebel hideout much less into his cell. The creature seemed to defy everything Bodhi knew about how living things fit into spaces.
To make everything worse, Saw Gerrera stood just outside the door to Bodhi’s cell, explaining everything that was about to happen to him.
“Bor Gullet can feel your thoughts. No lie is safe.”
Bodhi wanted to protest, to swear to Saw that none of this was necessary, that he’d already told him the truth. But he knew it would do no good. He’d already tried to convince Saw and his rebels of that fact so many times, and they’d absolutely refused to believe anything he told them. He’d screamed himself hoarse.
There was nothing for him to do but submit to this creature and its powers. The thought of having such a thing rummage through his mind appalled him, but he didn’t see what else he could do. If he could have turned back time, he might have decided not to defect, not to help Galen Erso, not to try to save the galaxy.
But it was far too late.
The creature’s tentacles reached for Bodhi. He strained against his bonds, unable to resist cringing away from it as he fought the urge to vomit.
“What have you really brought me, cargo pilot?” Saw asked in his raspy voice. “Bor Gullet will know the truth.”
One of Bor’s tentacles snaked out and wrapped around Bodhi’s throat. He wanted to scream, but the tentacle had already started to constrict so tight he couldn’t draw enough air. Pulling away from the creature only made it worse.
More tentacles reached out then, wrapping around Bodhi’s head. Their suckers attached to precise points on Bodhi’s temples, and he could feel them pulsing, almost as if they were milking his brain.
Saw’s voice was the last thing Bodhi heard before his mind began to scramble into static and white noise. The man said something Bodhi could only hope wouldn’t come true.
“The unfortunate side effect of Bor Gullet’s techniques is that one tends to lose one’s mind.”