Chapter Six

Tor Valum

Kylo's TIE whisper entered the atmosphere of Remnicore, a cold black planet veined with silver. The starfighter sped over floes of white lava and frozen, stunted trees. In the distance, the rays of the setting sun glinted off a ruined building in the shape of a giant black cube driven into the ground point-first.

Inside the cockpit, Kylo struggled to keep his concentration focused on his flying. Since being injured by the Sith holocron, he had been ravaged by visions and voices. Currently, Supreme Leader Snoke murmured in the back of his mind, his words indistinct. Suddenly, the voice snapped into focus.

"—the power of Mortis!" Snoke rasped.

Kylo involuntarily jerked at the controls. His ship grazed a ridge and plowed into the obsidian terrain of a wide valley.

Kylo emerged from the ship battered and bloodied. His left arm didn't seem to work anymore, and his arms, chest and legs were covered in scrapes and burns. In his right hand, he held his torn, singed cape, which he had used to smother an electrical fire started by the crash.

The Supreme Leader of the First Order staggered forward a few steps and then collapsed face down, his cape billowing out beside him like a shroud.

Kylo Ren jerked awake. He was lying on a bed of straw and wood, staring at a rough, rocky ceiling. The warm light of a torch flickered at the right edge of his vision. He was unsure of how long he had been unconscious; was it hours? Days?

He lifted his head slightly to take in his surroundings. On the left side of his bed were several large pots, as well as a stone table, which his mask and several small vessels rested upon. Two gaps in the rock wall to his right led into other portions of what was apparently a cave system. Near the foot of his bed stood a diminutive figure clad in robes and a head covering that seemed to be sized for a much larger being. It had its back turned to Kylo.

Kylo sat up. His muscles ached and his head swam, but after a moment he gained enough of a grip on himself to survey his injuries. They seemed to have had some sort of greenish salve applied to them, after which they had been bandaged. His left arm was wrapped in a cast of stiffened wrappings. Kylo peeled one of the bandages on his chest up enough to see that the wound was still raw. Not days, then.

The figure at the foot of the bed had noticed that Kylo was awake. It turned towards him, revealing that its tan headscarf almost enveloped its head. A narrow gap in the cloth showed the gray skin of the creature's face. Its flat nostrils were placed directly in between large, wide set black eyes.

The alien called out in a language unintelligible to Kylo. A handful of other creatures of the same species entered the rock chamber from the openings in the right wall. They milled around Kylo, examining his wounds, changing his bandages, and grinding spices with a mortar and pestle. One proffered a clay pot full of a steaming soup. Kylo accepted the soup and let the beings fuss around him.

After he had finished eating, Kylo attempted to communicate with the beings. He pointed at himself and said, "Kylo."

"Kah-lo," they intoned. "Kah-lo!"

The largest of the creatures, who seemed to be some sort of chief, pointed at himself and said, "Wommel." Then he pointed to each of his fellows in turn and said, "Wommel." Apparently the name of his species (or his tribe-Kylo wasn't sure there was much of a difference) was Wommel. He was unable to determine if they had personal names.

Kylo donned his helmet and slung his tattered cape over his back. Through hand signs, he indicated to the Wommels that he wished to be on his way and that he was grateful for their help. They jabbered at him and led him to the entrance of their cave. Kylo stepped out into the night.

The Wommels' cave was in the valley wall nearest to Kylo's downed TIE, from which he summoned VX-20. The droid's display told him the time: less than half a day since his crash. Together, the man and the probe droid set off for the cuboid building at the other end of the valley. A deep canyon stretched towards and cut through the edifice, as though a beam of energy had cloven through building and ground alike.

Kylo Ren wondered about the Wommels' actions as he walked. They must have known that he was potentially dangerous. They could have killed him or merely left him for dead, but instead they used their own, no doubt scarce, resources to heal him. They must have done it out of. . . kindness. Kylo was surprisingly moved.

As Kylo neared the structure, he passed the skeletons of fell war beasts, empty suits of armor, and robes draped over broken shields. Banners and flags fluttered in the chill breeze. A Sith helmet lay on the ground, a skull moldering within.

VX-20 beeped as a red light flashed on its surface. The droid had detected a lifeform.

The doors of the fortress opened inwards. Kylo lowered his hand and entered. He removed his lightsaber from his belt and activated it as he passed between huge stone statues looming ominously out of the darkness.

Kylo crept warily into a vast circular chamber stacked with broken spacecraft parts, ancient military equipment and piles of silver ore. A glowing white fire crackling in a stone pit cast a dim, ghastly light over the scene. He drew closer to the flame.

"What do you seek?" A voice whispered.

Kylo spun and raised his lightsaber. "Reveal yourself," he said.

The largest mound of junk moved. Spindly but powerful arms pulled the detritus aside, revealing the head and tense, muscular torso of a huge black creature. The tatters of what might once have been a cloak clung to a broad, triangular head. Six beady black eyes set on fin-like projections to either side of the creature's flat, rugose face examined Kylo Ren.

Kylo stood his ground. "I seek the Sith Master Tor Valum."

"I am neither Sith nor Master," the thing said. "But I was once called Tor Valum."

"You trained Darth Plagueis?" asked Kylo.

Tor Valum said, "That name means nothing to me."

Kylo's lightsaber darted out, stopping centimetres from Tor Valum's taut, leathery skin. "Does your life?" he asked angrily.

Tor Valum smiled, revealing sharp, blackened teeth. "You threaten me with death. How amusing."

"You are weak," Kylo said. "I feel nothing."

"You feel what I allow you to feel. Child." The creature extended a long, bony finger, pointing to Kylo's mask. "Reveal yourself."

Kylo lowered his lightsaber and removed his helmet. The glowing red cracks of the mask mirrored the crimson traceries of his corrupted veins.

Tor Valum appeared oddly entertained. "Mmmmm," he sighed. "You wish to obtain the power of those who came before; to take your place among the Gods of Mortis."

Kylo admitted, "I do."

"To rule the galaxy without armies, without starships."

"Yes."

"Your master taught you well. Yet you fear the frailty of your vessel." Tor Valum leaned closer. "You need this power."

Kylo's jaw tensed. He nodded.

"Kneel before me," said Tor Valum.

The red lightsaber shut off. Kylo knelt.

"You call yourself a Sith," Valum intoned. "But the Sith are unrepentant, remorseless. You are haunted by the past, by your very existence."

"I have no regrets," Kylo said sharply.

"You lie. Until you confront your past, your fate will be the same as theirs." Tor Valum motioned to the battlefield in the valley below, where empty Jedi Knight and Sith Marauder armor lay side by side, surrounded by the withered husks of men and animals.

"The Living Force is nourishment. The more one consumes, the stronger one becomes. To take life. . . is to cheat death." The creature lifted his body with his arms and walked forward on them.

Kylo studied his strange new master. "Teach me," he said.

Tor Valum grinned once more. "With pleasure."