Regards, from the Dark Side
Part 1.
The Force. It's power surges within all beings. Most forms of life are drawn to the Light Side.
Most forms of life.
But this is not a Jedi story. It does, however, begin with two of them.
Deaslin Camdes, a young, human woman shifted in her seat. As she did so a lock of her blond hair fell loose from her braid and she brushed it aside. She rested her hand upon the pommel of her lightsaber. Its' metal felt cool to the touch through her robes. She gazed down at the soft folds of white fabric that she had grown so accustomed to, she hardly could remember what other clothes felt like. The saber's gentle pressure against her hand eased her. Without lifting her head, Deaslin raised her eyes and glanced at her master, Jainic Marcall, who was piloting their small ship. He ran his hand through his short red hair before stroking his beard that ended in two short braids. It was extremely unusual for a Jedi Master to have a braided beard, and he was often playfully chastised by the other Masters for it. But Deaslin found it unique, and self-expressive. Traits she found endearing.
"I sense you feel nervous" he said softly.
Deaslin gripped her saber's pommel harder. "Yes. This whole situation...doesn't make sense."
He could hear the nervous energy in her voice, and she kept her hand resting on her saber. Something was truly making her feel uneasy. Jainic watched the front window as the rapidly emerging landscape rose up towards them. He settled himself deeper into his seat.
"You shouldn't let your feelings effect your emotions. There is a difference between the two. You can feel that something is wrong, but allowing it to make you nervous with such little information is putting undue stress on yourself."
"Yes, Master." She still felt nervous.
Jainic smiled and adjusted the controls. Deaslin was not normally so easily shaken and it both concerned, and encouraged him to calm her. The ship responded smoothly as he eased it into a sharp turn. Their landing approach quickly grew large in the window.
"It does seem fast. Doesn't it?"
"Your approach?" She joked.
"No. Restoring the temple so quickly."
Deaslin let out a brief laugh. "They probably would have put the restoration on hold if they'd been aware…"
"Aware of the chambers? Or the gate stones? Or both?" He asked, finishing her sentence as he sometimes did.
"Yes, Master," she replied in a formal way. Which was unlike her.
Jainic grunted his acknowledgment; she was just not ready to talk about what was making her feel so uneasy. He skillfully rested the ship on the landing pad. As they disembarked a light rain fell on them and Deaslin paused to look across the temperate landscape. The city, just over a hill's rise, was no metropolis. But a sprawling cacophony of buildings populated mostly by former indentured workers. Their midsized forested planet, Htrae, is rich in natural resources and curative floras. Located in the expansion region, it had been a corporate-controlled world. Until their recent separation which had been, for the most part, peaceful and diplomatic. They were now free, but found themselves needing to build trade routes, partnerships, and a security force. All of this was in addition to rebuilding everything from their government to their identity. But there was a sense of optimism. An energy that seemed to infuse the sweet smell of the rain. It was no wonder that when a lost and forgotten Jedi temple was discovered in the surrounding evergreen forests, spreading the news had brought a sense of mid rim inclusion to those who lived in the area.
Temple guardians had been assigned to watch over the location after the structure had been nearly restored. Politicians and shareholders pushed their involvement. Precautions were overlooked. The excitement of having a restored Jedi temple up and running was a symbol. A symbol they desperately needed. One of confidence, in light of recent events, after being under the thumbs of corporate overlords for so long. Deaslin understood the feeling of needing confidence. But whether moving forward with the temple so quickly would ultimately be seen as a mistake, would be a matter of hindsight.
Confidence. Deaslin spoke the word to herself. It was a word she heard from her master often. She thought about the times he told her she was a competent fighter and well connected to the Force. And while the presence of her saber was reassurance she could handle anything they encountered - she couldn't stop thinking about all the times he followed his praise with but, and however.
She slowed her pace to better take in the unconventionality of the structure's exterior. It was narrow compared to temples she had visited. The walls had unusual angles, and where they joined formed edges that looked almost sharp. She had been to many temples, including a few ancient ones. They all had felt, candid, like greeting a stern but well-meaning Master. But also amiable and warm, like entering a friend's house. But this temple was different. Its energy was aloof. Distant and cold. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. The echo of her steps on the wet stairs was caught and magnified by the columns that supported the arching entrance way. She looked up at the archway, and an inexplicable chill went through her.
As they passed over the granite threshold of the temple into the cool interior, Jainic moved slightly ahead of her. An instinctive move that would allow him to more easily intercept an attack against his protégé from the front. He heightened his force awareness, and she followed suit. Trusting to his experience. His habit to instinctively protect her had always been a quality she appreciated, and one she hoped he would never lose. She also wondered if he could feel the unusual energy of the temple, but before she could ask she sensed other Jedi approaching. Friends. She wanted to bring up her feelings about the temple, but there was a sense of urgency among the other Jedi so she remained silent.
After pleasant but brief greetings, the group walked a short way then stopped at a large, jagged opening in the floor big enough to park a speeder inside. A dim, pulsating red glow could be seen within its depths. A Jedi General, in full armor, greeted them. In his right hand was a saberstaff, very unusual for a Jedi, but peacefully at his side; its emitter resting on the floor. He was flanked by a few members of his team, also in full armor, holstered blasters and other necessities populated their belts. Their armor was among the finest available and specifically designed to protect against plasma weapons. It also looked well tested. Discolorations and battle marks were scattered across their surfaces. After a moment, Jainic recognized him as Aaron Drager, a legend in his own right but seldom talked about. Drager and his team were specialists, and spent the majority of their missions on the Outer Rim border line.
If General Drager is here in full armor, he suspects something is up, thought Jainic. And why was he summoned here? How could this place involve users of the Dark Side?
"I apologize for the short notice," General Drager began. "I just received information about what was found in the temple a few days ago. To be sure everyone is on the same page, this is what we know. During restorations, part of the western floor gave way exposing a large, featureless room lined with black stone. Workers found a circular door on the floor resembling a well cap. When they approached it, red runic inscriptions ignited and have remained active. The Temple Guards carefully searched the area and little was found - including sensing Dark Side energy. Which was extraordinary, frankly – considering the runes are written in the dark tongue."
"So then," Jainic interjected. "It's an object. And not a Force nexus?"
General Drager nodded, "There are other things that have happened." He directed his comment not to Jainic specifically, but to everyone present.
"What the restoration team thought was damage, turned out to be unfinished sections. This temple was never completed. Work stopped, abruptly, and was abandoned – in an extreme hurry at least seven hundred years ago." He paused and took a deep breath.
"Since my team arrived there is evidence of battle but not the results. There is ionization from blaster bolts and plasma burns by what appears to be a lightsaber, but no bodies. Nothing to indicate why someone would be using a blaster or a lightsaber." He glanced at the craggy opening in the floor and Deaslin saw him grip his saberstaff tighter. A chill ran down her spine, and everyone shifted their stance with an uneasy energy that filled the room. They looked around at each other at this strange news. She looked at Jainic who seemed more captivated than anything else which was typical for him. Nothing seemed to rattle him, and she envied it.
"There's more." said General Drager. "And this is why we have requested help by anyone who was available. A full in-depth survey was never conducted of the surrounding area, or the area beneath. The local government wants to keep this...quiet for now. Since its first discovery, other entrance points have been discovered. Six, in fact. No one…no one on the restoration team or my team has been able to open this gate stone, or any of the others, because...".
Jainic crossed his arms and his cream colored robes made the only sound as they brushed against the stone. He dreaded the information that was about to follow. Seven hundred years old. They must have assumed nothing could go wrong.
"...there is a powerful dark force sigil on the gate stone. Its' been speculated that..."
"Why not just leave it sealed?" Deaslin blurted out. "Sir". She quickly added.
General Drager, annoyed but patient, thinned his lips and answered "Because the sigil on the eastern gate stone has been recently broken, and the gate stone itself destroyed. Everything under this temple is now open to the outside. Whoever has done this is not only learned in Sith sorcery, but they are also familiar with ancient Sith tombs. Even after the sigil is broken, the gate stone will seal behind the trespasser unless they have the correct vibrational passcode. This is a rare incantation. Outlawed in all places even...the outer reaches. Given the age of both structures and the destruction of the eastern gate stone, I think the trespasser must have gotten lucky or is using an unknown Sith artifact to have opened the gate stone. In which case, they are just as in-the-dark as we are, and most likely dead from traps or worse."
But then his demeanor changed, looking hard at his team and the other Jedi before continuing. "There is another, extremely unlikely possibility."
Deaslin watched as Jainic uncross his arms and looked intensely at General Drager. He must have sensed his like-minded thoughts and returned his gaze to Jainic. "The possibility, that he or she is not the typical artifact hunter."
East, underground
A black leather boot slowly and quietly made contact, heel first, on the stone floor. The shallow, black, stagnant water covering the floor barely made a ripple. Her black cloak swirled around her ankles just above the water's surface. Behind her lay an array of destruction. The traps that once protected this place now lay strewn in the thick water, sizzling and steaming. But their remains were not the only ones that littered the floor. The slain bodies of Sith acolytes flickered in a red glow. They were covered in runic tattoos, scars, and many had their mouths sewn shut. A few had broken the sinew of their sewn lips, and flesh hung from their mouths like tendrils. Some were missing limbs. Others were donning limbs that were not their own. Some wore armor, others had rotten rags for clothes. Many had attacked with their bare hands and mouths wide open like beasts. Some had plasma weapons of one kind or another. While others bore lightsabers. Their weapons, now lay halved in the water, were left where they fell. Such things were so blighted that reclaiming them was not worth the risk. There were other bodies as well. Ones that were half melted into the black water; dissolving and becoming one with the Tomb. "Perhaps the sorcery failed prematurely on those, or perhaps they were tests for the primary subjects." The boots stood still for a moment and the only sound was the final death throws of an acolyte. She turned and pulled back her cloak's hood. "May the force free you" she said, and extended a hand. Using the force she quickly snapped its' neck. The acolyte jerked then fell silent. She paused and looked carefully around the chamber. It was lined with glowing runes, sarcophagi, decayed parts both mechanical and biological, and tools of not only a bygone age - but a sect. This has got to be one of the worst-smelling places, she thought. Then a half-smile crossed her lips. I feel like a bad playmate to have broken all your toys.
She called out to the Dark Side of the Force, as she delved deeper into her own thoughts. Its presence helped focus her. Many Sith Lords sought eternal life. But this one. This sect, went down a deeply twisted, and deprived road. This necromancer, was beyond the desire for eternal life. His lust for power became an obsession to enslave everything, even the Force itself. Free from ever joining the force, but to yoke it. To dominate it and fuel everlasting. Life? No, not life. A state where the body would not rot, nor the heart beats. An afflicted husk, free only to ruin anything that is not itself. Dark sorcery indeed. And insane. His name was purposely forgotten, erased. Him and his brainwashed followers.
It reminded her of the fairytales. The stories about Sith Lords. The ones who murdered their lovers to prevent them from being used against them. Only to mourn endlessly, using their anger to fuel their power, leading only to their imprisonment inside themselves. Of brothers who kill each other for no other reason than acknowledgment. And of the ones where Sith slaughtered Sith. She smiled to herself. "For those who claim they seek power and strength, they were horribly insecure." She knew her kind earned its well-deserved reputation. But she didn't let their weaknesses affect her choices.
She turned and continued walking. Her breath misted briefly before dispersing in the cold air of the underground passage. I wonder if they used death sticks to help secure the acolytes' obedience, she pondered. Lowering her head she remembered how many she crossed sabers with, and took down. Their bodies more mutilated in their living-death than what her blade did to them.
"Poor fools," she said. She was not concerned with giving away her position. There were few things living, dead, or otherwise that posed a legitimate threat to her.
The cloaked figure rounded a corner and immediately stopped. She could sense the presence of a sigil. Its energy attracted her attention to the floor. She looked downward and saw the subtle edge of a dim, red glowing ring that encircled a cavernous room. Beyond its border, the floor slowly rose up to a mound. At its pinnacle lay a carved stone table. From her vantage point she could see the table was mostly empty, except for a levitating Sith holocron. It casted no additional light onto the table or walls as it glowed black, red, and gold.
That will wait, she thought and returned her attention to her immediate position.
The ground was covered in sect members. All of whom perished at various stages of being consumed by the necrosis, but not brought to animation. It was as if he reached such fevered heights in his insanity, flooded with Dark Side power and completely out of his mind, went from one follower to the next without fully bringing them to the animated stage. The hooded figure wondered if his body was among them, or if he too now roamed the halls and would soon have the honor of being cut down by her blade. She had no problem slaughtering those who use the Dark Side for their evil gratification. The Dark Side, in and of itself, was not evil. Not to her. It was her sanctuary, and seeing it used in this matter flared her rage.
Parting her cloak she bent to her knees and swiped her hand near the glowing red line. It brightened in response to her presence. A barrier sigil, and not just for containment, she thought. This certainly would not stop you from passing, but the moment someone was halfway across the sigil would ignite. Sending a razor of energy to the top of the chamber and slicing the person who stepped over it in half. Their entire right side would drop to one side and their entire left side would fall to the other. Its' heat would cauterize like a saber; scarcely leaving a drop of blood. Even an acolyte, should they have had a change of heart or second thoughts.
She took a deep breath and drew her consciousness into the Dark Side of the force. She focused on the circle, how it connected to the ground, she felt the age of it. She could sense the holocron which lay beyond – it held the secret to this place. The holocron, and something else. The Dark Side beckoned to her, urged her to seek deeper. And there she found it, an ancient, penetrating plea for release. Horrible, torturous images flooded her mind. Images of fights to the death; horrendous cruelties. Others were of experiments, bloody and gruesome. Some seemed to show the past, others were almost random flashes of bloodshed. The images were disorganized and fragmented. But they all contained pain and horror. It was heartrending. She had enough. In a controlled, calm manner she brought her consciousness back to normalcy, severing her connection to 'the plea' and returning herself to the barrier sigil in front of her. Focusing her will, saw the energy pattern of the circle itself, and the imprint of the insane mind that wove and cast it.
"Blowing this thing out of existence will be a pleasure."
Slowly she raised her hand above her head. Her eyes shifted from a rich green to a vivid glowing yellow. With a wild fury of Dark Side energy, she brought her hand down upon the circle as she brought her will down upon its energy in the shadow realm.
Directly Above
"What was that!" screamed Deaslin as she fought for her footing. More deafening roars rolled under their feet. All the Jedi braced themselves and looked towards the granite pillars that surrounded them and the ceiling. A fine layer of dust and small stones rained down, then suddenly stopped. General Drager was about to speak but before he could, a strangely subtle shockwave, like a wave in quicksand, rolled deep beneath their feet, traveling outwards towards all six gate stones. An uneasy silence fell upon the temple as if it were holding its' breath.
Everyone paused, hands and arms outstretched ready to balance, but no further earthquakes occurred.
Jainic quickly glanced at General Drager. "When this Temple was found...how did they keep it secret? How did they keep anyone from finding out about it?"
"They didn't" he responded flatly. "Politicians and stakeholders made the call, not academics or Temple guardians."
At that moment the temple heaved, then a deafening explosion rocketed throughout the temple and the ground beneath it. The very air seemed to fracture apart as the gate stone they were standing close to rocketed from its dark chamber, flipping end-over-end. The sigil that once locked it in place screamed and left a streak of red energy as it was ripped apart by the force wave beneath it. The Jedi dodged to the left as the circular stone hit the far wall shattering itself to pieces and taking a chunk of the wall with it. The gate stone fragments quickly dimmed as the red runes faded revealing nothing but scorch marks.
"They didn't!" echoed Jainic. But before General Drager could answer all of the Jedi and Temple Guardians felt a sudden and enveloping Force presence. Like the dust from a volcanic eruption, Dark Side energy bellowed from the gaping maw the gate stone once concealed. Deaslin doubled over, her arms tight to her body as if the physical act could contain the nausea that roiled in her stomach. The stench. Indescribable, putrid stench.
"The other cap stones. They've all been blown," one of the Jedi yelled. "This place...it's been blown wide open."
All heads turned to the gaping rip in the floor. A chorus of clicks and moans could be heard and they seemed to be getting closer, getting louder. High pitched screams punched through the din. All lightsabers and lightstaffs ignited. Casting an array of blue, green, and yellow light on the layer of dust that now covered everything.
"What in the..." a twi'lek said as he raised his saber to a defensive position.
He didn't have to wait long. The empty blackness quickly started to shimmer with movement. Then faces appeared. Screaming, mangled faces that rushed towards the Jedi. The faces had torn flesh, and many appeared surgically altered. The Twi'lek raised his hand and force shoved the first wave back into the dark. But they were quickly replaced by others. Reaching, grabbing hands that were more dead than living. He frowned; there was no chance to reason with whatever they were, or rather whatever's remains they were. As the horde crossed the threshold he cleaved through them with his golden-yellow blade, clearing a path through them. Jainic and Deaslin joined his side, and taking full advantage of the bottleneck swung their lightsabers into the undead horde. Energy bolts from lightbows blasted past their faces and above their heads.
"The other gate stones!" screamed General Drager. "Force preserve us! The city!" But two of the Jedi had already started running for the temple entrance.
"Go!" Yelled Jainic. "Go! We can handle it here. There's no telling what's going on out there." The rest of the Jedi and temple guardians turned and headed for the entrance.
"I will return with thermal detonators" yelled General Drager. We'll blow this thing shut!" He turned and ran towards the entrance.
Deaslin fought in a near dreamlike state. The forms that threw themselves with complete abandon towards her and her saber looked more horrific than the conjurings' of her worst nightmares. Some of them were missing arms and yet they still charged towards them. Some crawled. Others were masses of flesh with mouths, and teeth – spliced together abominations from leftover remains. Then a numbing thought crossed her mind.
What if these things, these things sealed up for hundreds of years, were created by something contagious? A Dark Side experiment that turned its malice against its creators. But who cast the sigils? Who imprisoned them? Sealed in darkness, never to be released. Never to be free of their living death. Sinking deeper into madness…
"Focus!" Jainic's bright azure blade passed in front of Deaslin's face, she could smell the sweetness of plasma, before it angled outward severing a gaping mouth in half before it could reach her. She breathed. Remembered her training, and reached to the Light Side of the force to calm and focus herself.
As quickly as the horde appeared, the darkness fell silent. Master and apprentice looked at each other catching their breath. The only sound being the steady hum of their sabers. In the distance they heard explosions. Thermal detonators. They were trying to reseal the tomb, or at least slow its horrors' escape until troops could arrive. Deaslin extinguished her saber's emerald colored blade and took a step forward to hear one more explosion. Closer than the rest, but this time it was followed by a loud cracking sound. She watched almost in slow motion as Jainic ran towards her, his hand out-stretched, eyes wide. She heard him yell her name before he suddenly shrank before her eyes and she realized it was she who was falling. The floor underneath her had given way. She drew on the Light Side of the Force and extended her body into a jump. Focusing her thoughts and calming her mind. She felt the Force guiding her body as the landing approached. She lowered her weight onto her legs as she bent her knees and flowed into a roll before coming to a stop.
"Deaslin! Deaslin!" Jainic slid down part of the caved-in and quickly caught up with her. She was shaken, bleeding from multiple cuts, and covered in grime.
"I'm okay, I'm okay" she breathed.
He grabbed her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Good. This place is one death trap. I'm not sure if the ancients built it here to help heal the cursed darkness underneath. Or, as a lure."
Deaslin let out a little laugh. "Would depend on whose ancients actually built it I guess." He marveled at the way his apprentice could find humor in even the bleakest of situations. It brought him great pride that even now her spirits had not been dampened. No small feat, considering the tidal wave of emotions he sensed in her.
He smiled and turned towards the cave-in section he slid down; as took a step forward and as his boot touch the floor there was a clear, high pitched click. In his frenzy to get to Deaslin he failed to do a Force check of the area. The layer of fine dust and debris easily concealed the booby trap he stepped on, designed to react only to the living. Deaslin leapt towards Jainic but he force pushed her back. It was too late, and knowing this he did as he had always done, protected her. The mine ignited a red circle barrier that enclosed them both. Before either could react, the floor snapped and broke away from the walls. They were standing on a huge hidden gate stone. It made a quick turn to the left, unlocking itself, then with a shuddering, grinding cacophony, the gate stone dropped rapidly. Falling away underneath them Master and apprentice fought for their footing on the gravelly surface as the dark surrounded them.
Underground
The cloaked figure rose to her feet. The once red barrier circle in front of her was now just a ring of smoldering scorch. "Well, that was exciting" she spoke under her breath. "So much drama. I was hoping to do this without attracting the attention of the entire hemisphere." Then in the distance, muted by the tons of earth and stone above her, she heard multiple explosions, one of which was followed by a prolonged rumble, and cracking jolt. She sensed the ignition of a sigil, followed by rasping mechanics. Small stones and grit rained down upon her making little splashes in the black, viscus water she stood in.
"Hmmm." she placed her hand close to her lightsaber but did not draw it. "Wonder which gate stone transport that came from."
It was not unusual for her to talk to herself in certain circumstances. She was often alone, and many times the sound of her voice was the only voice she heard for days. A sound in the chamber drew her attention back. She walked across the threshold and crossed the scorched line. Going up a slight incline she left the shallow water behind her. As she stepped closer to the table and its treasure, she noticed how the water, thick and slightly shimmering, looked vastly deep. But the corpses of acolytes garnishing it brought her attention to more pressing mysteries.
Movement in the dim red light drew her attention, and in the shadows a shape emerged. It was an adult female pureblood Sith. Her crimson skin reflected the dim light as she approached. Her bone spurs, cheek tendrils, and cranial horns stood out in stark relief. But her gate was staggered, and in her face cloudy white eyes stared back. Where pupils had once been, only a strange black circle remained. Her black hair hung in ragged clumps and strands from a blighted scalp. A gurgled moan that sounded more like an exhausted scream leached through the sinew of her sewn lips.
The cloaked one called her lightsaber to her hand detaching its' magnetic connector and freeing it from her belt. She did not ignite it. The last of the Sith race had died off long before this tomb was built. "So where did you come from?" The pureblood raised her ancient lightsaber, held in a three fingered hand, and ignited its brilliant red blade. She emitted a howl that ripped flesh from her sewn lips, displaying for a moment pointed teeth, and charged with blind rage.
As one shadow sped towards the other, the Sith holocron displayed shadows of its own. Its' contents went from the musings of a powerful Sith mage, that degraded into the ramblings of an insane cult leader.
She was found on Korriban of all places. We were conducting an exhaustive search for a massive library. Its existence, and more importantly its location, was alluded to in a scroll that was very difficult to obtain. It was rumored to contain knowledge some lords wanted forbidden. The scroll proved to be incorrect on many accounts, so we needed to utilize clues from other sources. Our search took us to a remote, war ravaged place. The very land was pit marked by ancient fighting. All of Korriban is scarred, but this place saw fighting like no other we have seen. Despite our best efforts, we never found the library. But just as we prepared to leave, the cellar of an ancient building was discovered. Not a tomb exactly, but perhaps a Temple of one of the sects. Although, one of my subordinates voiced it was more like an asylum.
The cellar was unremarkable, other than containing a large amount of ancient garbage. Broken containers, medical equipment, some beds and everyday living items were scattered everywhere. That's where we found her. Wrapped, unceremoniously swathed in garbage wrappings and lying under some debris in a midden pit. At first we thought she was some kind of statuette. She did not speak, and only made guttural utterances. She also did not eat. Nor breathe, nor have a heartbeat. The pureblood race has been lost for many years. And unfortunately, her cellular DNA has proven deranged and is useless. She must have remained in this state for at least a thousand years. She is dead, and has been so for a long, long time. And yet, she does not rot. And yet, her drive to fight is…singular.
She reacts to stimulation, but will otherwise remain in a still, trance like state. Staring with blank, white eyes at nothing. The wall, the floor. I cannot stop thinking about how she was made. I must know. I need to know. She's perfect. I will use this holocron to create a record of my achievement, and to document my research. A warrior that has no needs, no self wants. No need for food or water, or…companionship. No bothersome need to save fallen warriors. Nothing can be used against her. No empathy, or even self-preservation. Yet so much more versatile than droids. It takes very little to provoke her. She attacks anyone, force sensitive or not, other than her own reflection. Which has me wondering, is there some tiny shred of higher brain function left in her? If there is, she must be completely insane by now, existing down here for countless years alone, wrapped-up like trash. Or like physical pain, perhaps in this living death she doesn't feel anything. One thing is without question. Her skill in combat is commendable, which is a good thing. As she is impervious to pain, but also does not heal. Imagine, a regiment of fighters like her. No deceit, no treachery, no disobedience. Disposable. No other Sith Lord's forces could come near to matching that. She will use anything she can to fight, including biting which makes studying her difficult. I will put a stop to that. I will also discover the secrets of how she was made. Only my most trusted subordinates and acolytes will assist me closely. But I will find ways, for them, to ensure they keep their mouths shut.
The Sith pureblood rushed towards the cloaked one, saber ablaze, howling from tearing lips. The cloaked one waited in a stance that had become second nature from long hours of drilling under her Master's watchful and merciless eye. She drew up her hilt, a surprisingly pristine, modern, and aristocratic piece. It existed in stark contrast to the second saber that rested at her side. Weathered, its brushed metal etched with engravings. A trophy, she took from one of the many ancient sites she had quested. Neither had an ignition switch. As the pureblood brought her blade down upon her, she ignited her own, with her mind. Red plasma with a platinum colored core shot forth and blocked the pureblood's blade. The cloaked one smiled as she ran her blade down the other before twisting it to the side and making an attack. The pureblood hissed and defended in turn.
"You must truly hate me. A Dark Sider not of your race, who dares call themselves Sith. That is, if there are any thoughts left other than the images you showed me earlier."
Their battle raged across the room spanning one side to the other. As they fought, the cloaked one was sure to use the Dark Side, her magic, to search for any traps and dispatch them as she repelled the rabid Sith's attacks and responded in kind. The pureblood made a massive lunging attack that the cloaked one struggled to block. This outraged her, and she lashed out with a blast of force lightning. The pure blood screamed and blocked the lighting with her saber. Even though the attack was lessened by the pure blood's action there was still enough power to mangle her face with the intense energy.
"Out of all the issues your dead race had. Things would have been better….if you had more of an open mind."
With her last word she brought her hilt across and sliced off half the pureblood's head. She staggered back, and a black tar like substance oozed from her opened skull. One eye rolled upward towards the gaping wound, while the other eye remained static. She raised her saber up and continued to attack. The cloaked one became impatient. "I need to end this. Someone is coming." She performed a series of infinity strikes and figure eights to breakthrough the pureblood's defense. With a flick of the tip of her saber she removed the pureblood's hand. Before it and her saber hit the ground, the cloaked one slit her hilt apart vaporizing its' ancient kyber heart. Before the pieces hit the ground more body parts followed. They landed with dull, wet, thuds. Until, the cloaked one, stood once again…..alone. She lowered her saber and extinguished the blade with a fierce hiss. For a moment she stood over the remains of the pureblood and watched the same thick, black substance ooze from the dismembered parts. She stilled herself and connected to the Dark Side. The void looked into her as she looked into it. The penetrating plea for release she sensed earlier was gone. Instead, there was a fleeting sense of freedom, of release, before the presence vanished completely. The cloaked one brought her consciousness back into normalcy.
She looked again around the room. "Was it you who killed all the acolytes on this side of the barrier, some untold number of years ago? Or did the sorcery on them fail?" She looked more intently at the tattoos on the pureblood's remains. "Were you a champion fighter? Or were you a slave?" She turned towards the holocron. The purebloods were a violent and cruel race, even to their own kind. She reached for the holocron, it's rich colors casting dancing shadows of red, and gold upon her hands. But they were not made that way by the dark side. Their own inner nature was all the guide they needed.
"Did you even have a name?"
The hidden cap stone rumbled to a halt and its concealed machinery ceased toiling. Jainic and Deaslin breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, at least we're not dead." Jainic joked. "And besides, in this place we might not stay dead for long." Deaslin was not amused. "This place terrifies me. All hope is lost here. I can feel it." Jainic stepped closer to her and gently said "Come on…you were making jokes before. Don't let this place get a hold on you. We will find a way out. Since we can't exit the way we came we must keep moving and find one of the other gate..." his voice trailed off as he remembered the explosions they heard earlier as the other Jedi attempted to seal the tomb shut. "Remember your training. Trust in the Force." He took her hand in his. "We will survive this." Deaslin felt a cold fear flow throughout her body. Her hands began to shake involuntarily in his. Jainic gripped her tighter, and she saw a flash of intense determination fill his eyes. Are we buried alive? She asked silently.
Master and apprentice traveled eastward. They passed through the tunnel and it bloomed out in areas where tools, devices, and equipment were intermingled with bodies. Some desiccated and nearly melted after lying on the damp floor for seven hundred years. Others attacked with unyielding abandon. Twisted, mangled, and driven. Deaslin fought back to back with Jainic, and room by room they pressed forward. She did not allow herself to think about what she saw, or what her blade cut down. As they advanced, their lightsabers provided much needed additional light, as the glowing runic symbols that lined the walls and archways were beginning to fade. The weight of the place was affecting Deaslin. It had such oppression. A place that eliminated any hope of escape. Even death was not a sure path. The dimming runes, the walls. She felt more and more that she was buried alive. She kept a firm grasp on her mind, for if she allowed it to stray it would find the easiest path to fear. This place tested her. It tested her courage, and her hope. Come on! She drilled herself. You're not going to let some mangled Sith creations unravel you! If Jainic could hear you he would tease you for a month!
As they passed through an archway, the circular door struggled to roll to the side, they stepped into a large empty room. With great caution they walked to the center and turned around. The room had five other archways with round stone doors.
"This must be it. The center. But which way? Which one do we choose?"
"Hold on." Jainic said, and stilled himself. He knew the place was getting to Deaslin. He could sense it in her and he could feel she was becoming frantic. He found himself struggling to keep the dark at bay. He reached into the Light Side of the force, and could feel the influence of the place stealing it away from him. Obscuring it. Flooding his mind with the power injustice brings. And its addictive pleasure to hold sway over others. The very air they breathed was saturated by the pain, and torture the walls held. But he was resolute, saw it for what it was, acknowledged it, and searched for the light. Deaslin tried to join him but fear gripped her mind. She searched the walls of the room and its archways. Everything was so featureless. The Jedi teachings were so easy to learn in the classroom. So easy to apply. But in this place, she could not help but feel terror.
"Something has happened" said Jainic. "The sigils and mechanics are losing their power." He opened his eyes. "We must find a way out. Now."
Deaslin and Jainic searched the circular doors but they refused to open. Some trembled but remained closed. Deaslin began to feel panic well up inside herself. Could their sabers cut through this stone without triggering a rigged collapse?
With one door left she rushed towards it and in her haste, heard the familiar, dreaded, high pitched click of a trap. Jainic dove for her but his foot was caught by circular saws lurching upward through the floor that sent him sprawling across the room. The armor on his boots fulfilled their purpose, but blood appeared through his light colored robes. Deaslin used a force assisted jump to clear the trap, but it sent her flying backwards towards the door. She expected to feel her back slam against it. But the surge of energy that powered the trap ignited the door's dying mechanism and it lurched open. She hit the ground and slid across the room. She saw him get up and charge towards her just as the stone door rolled shut.
"Deaslin!" Jainic screamed. He ignited his saber and plunged the vibrant azure blade into the stone door. His leg bleeding through his robes, he screamed as he pushed the blade downward leaving a molten wake. But the stone was resilient; it would take time to cut through. "Hold on, I'm coming! Stay where you are."
Deaslin could feel water seeping into her robes. She stood up and took a step towards the door. Her boots made a loud splash. It felt unusually thick and she looked down to see how completely black it was. She raised her head and looked around the archway but the glowing runes, had dimmed to faded embers. Frustration and anger filled her heart. She did not want to die like this. She didn't want Jainic to die like this, buried alive, in a cursed place. Far from the warmth of the sun, and the flow of air on their skin.
She gripped her saber tightly. "Damn it! Why?! Who would build a place like this?!"
"I believe." Said a voice, from the other side of the room. "That you are standing in him."
Deaslin felt a paralyzing cold move through her body. She had forgotten. After everything, she had forgotten. Anyone could have gotten word of the ancient temple's discovery. Someone had opened the tomb. Someone had broken the dark magic sigil casted hundreds of years ago.
Someone was already there.
Dread made her legs go numb. Deaslin slowly turned around to see a black cloaked figure standing next to the shattered remains of a Sith holocron, the fractured shards still smoking. Not far from her lie the physical remains of a Sith pureblood. Impossible...yet there nonetheless. And cut to ribbons by a saber. Surrounding them both were bodies of dead acolytes.
Fear turned into anger. She swallowed hard but her mouth went dry. Jainic. All of this was because of the Sith. This place that was beyond nightmares.
"Filth!" Deaslin screamed and ignited her saber. Its emerald blade flared to life and her ears were filled with its heartening thrum. But its familiar voice was not enough to bring her to her senses. She had undergone too much. Without fully thinking, she charged, tears blinding her eyes. She raised her saber - only to be met by the sound of another saber. Its fierce voice clashed against hers with bright violent sparks. Its color seared red into her mind, and through her blade she could feel its brutal power obscuring the energy of her own. The shock of the strike brought her back. She had made a horrible mistake. But before she could think what action to take, she found herself franticly on the defense. Fear started to claim her, but she built courage in her mind from what scraps she could pull together and attacked, then defended. She kept fighting. Her own eyes wanted to stay shut, to cut out the horror she was surrounded by, but she fought to keep them open and fought to stay alive. Jainic kept appearing in her mind. Tears came.
In the next moment she found herself disarmed. The movement had been so fast and skillful she couldn't follow it. Her hand felt numb from where her saber's hilt had been, and she heard it clatter away from her on the floor.
This is it, Deaslin thought.
The only sound she heard was Jainic's saber frantically cutting, and her own racing heartbeat.
It would be quick. Many have said death by lightsaber is painless. But Jainic, he doesn't know. He doesn't know.
The image of him charging through the door, bleeding and hurt, to face a Sith Knight alone hurt her more than the thought of death.
The next instant she felt the hilt of her own saber force shoved against her chest. The blow made her involuntary gasp wildly in, eyes lurched wide opened. The momentum of the force shove continued to drive her saber and herself backwards. The ground rushed past her, and her back slammed against the wall. With the impact the air was driven out of her lungs. She gasped, screamed, and struggled. Her heart beating franticly against the hilt of her own weapon. Every inch of her body shrieked in pain and her eyes squeezed shut. She could not move her arms, and for a moment panic gripped her completely. She expected death, but continued to fight any way she could. Knowing Jainic was out there, fighting to get to her.
A second passed, then another.
Nothing happened.
Deaslin regained herself and opened her eyes, not knowing what she would see. She found herself face to face with the Sith knight. Golden-yellow light shining through her green eyes - framed by the hood of her black cloak.
"That was the most disordered attack I've ever had the privilege of being the recipient of." She said in an even, mocking tone. "Want to try again?"
Deaslin screeched through clenched teeth. "SsssAaaahhh, Don't you touch me!"
The Sith let out a short laugh and released her force hold. Deaslin instantly dropped to the ground. She quickly regained her saber and ignited it. "This is all your fault!" she gasped.
The Sith took two steps back. "Yes, and no" she replied calmly. Her lightsaber had been deactivated for quite sometime.
"You should be cut down along with the rest of them!"
The Sith Knight regarded her for a moment. In the glow of the emerald blade she could see the apprentice's light colored robes half-soaked in the thick black water, ripped, and blood stained. White dust and pebbles from the Jedi temple above still clung to her.
"And you think what happened here could never happen to you? Your people could never be misled? Becoming a puppet to an abusive and cruel master. This place is as much sad, as it is horrible."
Deaslin pointed her saber at the Sith, who in response tightened her stance. But kept her saber quiet at her side. In the dim glow Deaslin caught sight of a second saber on her belt. It was much older and weathered than the one she held, unignited in her hand. The metal was engraved with markings. Not runes, or a language, but fractal like patterns. Her robes were black, and red highlights flashed here and there. Long red hair fell down either side of her hood, and Deaslin could see no tattoos. Her robes were clean, and there were no signs of struggle. This was an evening stroll for her.
All of a sudden Deaslin launched an attack. Not to kill or maim her but to knock her down long enough for Jainic to finish breaking through. Whoever she was, she had powerful magic. Deaslin knew she and Jainic were trapped. Confronting her was certain death, but she had to try. The Sith could provide the only way out via the dark forces she commands – if convinced to do so. The Sith, momentarily taken-back by the sudden surge of Deaslin's courage returning, raised her saber at the same time she ignited its savage red blade and skillfully deflected her attack.
"How dare she" the Sith thought. "Jedi whelp!"
To make her point clear, with a flick of a wrist she rotated the back of her blade out from Deaslin's saber exposing her hand and hilt to the red fury of her own. Deaslin felt a brief searing heat and watched as her emerald blade vanished and its hilt slip away from her hand in two pieces. They hit the floor and clattered in the black water. Deaslin, stunned and unarmed, backed into the wall. Her eye's turned towards Janic hoping to see him bounding towards her. But instead she met the Sith's blade. Her first thought was to ask for mercy. But knew her kind would show none. The Sith glared at her with deep displeasure; she could feel the heat of the red blade as it slowly passed, with great threat, over the top of her head. Deaslin felt and smelled wisps of her hair burning. It's deep, brutal hum vibrating in the roots of her teeth. Then, a strange calm came over her. A comfort. She could feel the Light Side of the force. A dim, distant light, but one that shined enough to drive some of the darkness back. Without knowing why, Deaslin felt a question escape her lips. Trust in the Force, she thought.
"What is your name?" she asked.
The Sith, narrowed her eyes. She shifted her feet and Deaslin could sense her energy flash brighter with Dark Side power. But at the same time, she lowered her blade, slightly. It was rare occurrence, that anyone, anywhere, asked her name. Asked who she was. And it sparked her curiosity more.
Decisions thought the Sith. She drew one foot back placing it behind herself at a slight angle, and moved her stance into a lethal position.
"Aclusniath" she responded slowly. Then paused with her blade at Deaslin's throat. "Do you know why I haven't killed you yet?
"No" croaked Deaslin, her sweat now falling on the Sith blade with a sizzle.
"Your light" said Aclusniath. In the Force. It's so…bright. So very bright. And what a shame it would be…to darken the world further by extinguishing it. Give my regards to your master. He has a fine apprentice."
Deaslin swallowed hard. And the world began to spin around her. The physical exhaustion, the horrors, it all took its toll. Darkness closed her vision.
But her body warmed.
When her vision returned she expected to see the black walls of the tomb, but instead she saw Jainic's face speaking to her, concerned. The world went dark again and she slipped away. In her half sleep she heard voices and sounds. And slowly, she was able to open her eyes. She found herself lying on a table with a healer standing nearby. He helped her to sit up, and to sip some water. It tasted cool, and fresh and she could feel it travel down her throat and soothe her. She was weak and drained but asked for Jainic in a voice she barely recognized. Dazed, she gazed through a window next to her bed. She could see the rising sun, and the light it cast upon the smoking ruins of the temple just over a hill's rise. Ships and personnel were traveling back and forth further incinerating the structure and what lied beneath. In the street below troops and specialist personnel crossed the walkways along with its local inhabitants. People seemed on edge. But vendors were opening their shops and she could hear the clank of a delivery speeder.
"Deaslin" she heard her name called and looked over to see Jainic quickly limping towards her. His leg in a bandage, and leaning on the shoulder of a Temple Guardian, who smiling, did his best to keep him from falling. "I'm so glad you are okay," he smiled. "I thought I lost you forever. As soon as I broke through the door I saw you slump to the ground unconscious. That room was completely sealed, but something or someone cut a hole in the wall. It opened to the Mossrev waterfall on the other side. I had a hell of a time getting you down from there."
"Did you see her?"
"Who?"
Deaslin looked back to the window. Expecting to see the same sight she saw before. But as people passed on the street, she saw a woman standing on the walkway looking back at her. Deaslin watched as she turned and pulled her black cloak closer against the early morning's cold air. As she did so, two lightsabers briefly flashed and glinted on her belt. She casually walked down the pathway and vendors pitched their wares to her as she passed, then disappeared from sight.
"Aclusniath" answered Deaslin. "She sends her regards."