Chapter Five: Dark Power
Another laughably simple so-called Trial had awaited Arkarix Krell in the Academy's detention area. He was to judge and sentence three prisoners: an assassin who had made the mistake of unwittingly targeting an Imperial spy; a Sith soldier whose misjudgment during a minor uprising had led to the deaths of Imperial soldiers and, worse, the weakening of the Empire's hold on an outer planet; and a Neimodean smuggler accused of forgery.
The judgments were easy. The assassin was skilled, and had done no harm to the Empire; Krell had her sent to Imperial Intelligence, where her talents could serve the Sith. The soldier had clearly passed the point of useful service; Krell executed him. As for the smuggler, Krell determined he was unworthy of his attention; he ordered him sent back to the cells to rot.
He reported his decisions to Overseer Tremel. His teacher was pleased with the first two of his choices, particularly his decision to send the assassin to Intelligence. However, he had harsh words for Krell's refusal to deal with the Neimodean.
"He was an insect," Krell replied. "I ignored him the way I ignore rocks on a path."
"An ignored rock can cause you to stumble," Tremel replied. "The Neimodean was unimportant, but that was the point. You will gain no favor by allowing even the tiniest problems to fester. Whether a matter is trivial or vital, you must always respond decisively. Until you understand that, you will never truly be Sith."
"The only Trials you have assigned me have been trivial," Krell snapped. "My blade thirsts. Give me a chance to bloody it."
Tremel looked him up and down, evaluating him.
"Perhaps you are ready, at that," he said. "Understand this. I brought you here early, and have shown you favor. This makes you a target. No one here should be considered a friend or an ally. You must be constantly prepared to defend yourself."
"I am Sith," Krell replied simply.
"Very well," Tremel said. "Then I believe you will find your next assignment more fulfilling. In the caverns of Marka Ragnos is the beast he left to guard his legacy. The beast is ferocious and bloodthirsty. You will slay it, and return to me with its head."
Krell grinned. This was a more fitting test.
"One more thing," Tremel said. "Your slave friend, the one who left her mark on your nose?"
Krell's grin vanished. "What of her?"
"Her overseer has also sent her to the Tomb of Marka Ragnos. She is on her way now. If you are quick, it is possible that you may enjoy a reunion."
Krell inhaled sharply. A chance to have his vengeance.
"Kill her or don't," Tremel said. "It is of no consequence to me. But if you engage, make sure you do so decisively. That is all."
Reyenna trudged to the Tomb to fulfill Harkun's next challenge. "An intellectual puzzle," he had dubbed it. She was to retrieve a Sith holocron from the Tomb of Marka Ragnos. Harkun had grinned as he provided details.
"The holocron is sealed within the Tomb's monument chamber," he told her. "It was unearthed a year ago. When the slaves tried to retrieve it, they all died. The Dark Council decided to leave its recovery as a Trial for acolytes who were deemed… disposable."
She answered his grin with the bright smile that she knew he hated. "Sounds like fun," she announced.
Inwardly, she wondered how she could hope to release its seal. Kory's fate showed what awaited if she came back empty-handed. The only alternative was to flee, to live like the wretches who deserted the training. She pictured herself as one of Spindrell's servants, and shuddered at the thought.
She made her way to the Tomb's entrance. She was surrounded by the ongoing excavation work, as slaves cleared rocks under the watchful eyes of their guards. They all stopped in their work to stare at her.
"They know their own. They can see what you truly are." A scornful voice from behind her. A familiar voice.
She turned, and saw the Pure Blood Sith from the transport. The one whose nose she had bitten after he had mocked her.
So this day can get worse, after all.
She plastered her fake-friendly smile on. "How nice to see you again," she said warmly. "I never did catch your name."
He reached down to his belt – not for a practice blade, but for the hilt of a lightsaber. The red beam spat energy at her as it extended.
"My name is Arkarix Krell, and I am Sith," he intoned. "This is my warblade, taken from the Tomb of Ajunta Pall. It thirsts for blood, and it calls for yours."
He advanced toward her. She hastily drew her practice sword – a pathetic defense, but still better than bare hands.
Maybe she could even the odds by setting him off balance.
"Your blade calls for my blood?" she repeated. "How long has your sword talked to you?" She whispered conspiratorially. "It doesn't tell you to do things, does it?"
Krell let out an angry yell as he swung his blade. Slaves scattered in a panic. The swing was wild, as Reyenna had hoped. She easily evaded by darting backward.
"My, you are an angry one," she observed. "You just need to work a little on the concept of aim. I'm standing right here. How can you possibly miss me?"
"Shut up and fight!" Krell snapped.
He aimed a broad swing at her head. She ducked.
"Yes," Reyenna agreed. "I will meet your lightsaber with my… um, electrified vibrosword is it? I think they used to sell these at novelty shops on Balmorra. To small children."
Another swing, this time at her center. Uncomfortably close. She jumped back against a pile of rubble – leaving her nowhere left to run. Krell raised his blade for a killing blow.
He left his midsection open. She lunged, and her practice blade scored a hit.
He gasped as the electricity struck, but held his ground. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed hold of her blade, gritting his teeth against the shock as he pried it from her hand and sent it flying.
"Sith do not fear pain," he snarled. He raised his lightsaber again.
Reyenna reached out with her mind. She grabbed hold of a boulder, flung it at him. He caught it in midair, sent it flying against a support beam. The Temple walls shook in a way that was altogether too familiar.
"Don't do that again," Reyenna said.
"Are you giving me orders about how to kill you?"
"I am telling you, as someone who knows how these dig sites work. You knock out that support beam, and we both suffocate under rock and dirt."
He smiled grimly. "Well then," he said as he raised his blade again, "You should probably stand still and die like a good little slave."
A raw, angry scream. Not his, and not hers.
The sound came from a giant beast, its torso covered with spikes, its head adorned with three tall, sharp horns. It leapt onto Krell, knocking him instantly to the ground. His thirsty red warblade rolled to a halt directly at Reyenna's feet.
She hesitated for the barest moment. All she had to do was nothing, and her enemy would be removed.
But once the beast was finished with Krell, it would turn to her. She could not flee – If she returned without the holocron, her death at Harkun's hands would be at least as unpleasant as being consumed by the beast.
The creature was at its most vulnerable right now, as it focused on the struggling Krell. She brought the lightsaber down on the creature's neck. The sword's dark energy cut right through armor, hide, and bone. It was like cutting through butter. As its head fell, Reyenna had to actually yank the blade back up to keep it from slicing into Krell.
The Pure Blood lay on the ground, gasping. He looked at the severed head, then at Reyenna.
"You… killed the beast," he said.
Reyenna searched the hilt, trying to determine how to deactivate the blade. It turned out to be quite simple. The press of a button, and the energy was gone.
Krell reached for it. She held it away.
"You may have your toy back if you promise this little feud is over."
He glanced again at the beast's head. "That was my Trial," he said.
She shrugged. "It was your blade that killed it," she said. "If you take its head back, who's going to know? I don't think the creature's going to tell them."
Krell grudgingly renounced his revenge, and she returned his blade. Then he drew himself up to full height.
"Honor has its demands," he announced.
"Honor? Here?" She almost laughed.
"Do not mistake the degenerates that populate this place with true Sith," he said. "I owe you a debt, and will not leave it unpaid. You completed my Trial. Now I will help you finish yours. With your permission, of course."
She hesitated, trying to see what his trap might be. She finally decided a trap was unlikely. If he meant to kill her, he could have done so the instant she returned his blade.
Plus, he was a Pure Blood. He had doubtless studied exhaustively, under the very best tutors, before coming here. She had no chance of freeing the Sith artifact, but he might know what to do.
"Very well," she agreed. "My puzzle waits in the Monument Room."
They spent the next several minutes clearing the scavengers that infested the monument room. Once that was done, Krell walked up to the holocron, located within a seal near the top of a black pyramid. He studied it intently.
"The pyramid must be meant to represent something," Reyenna said.
Krell scoffed. "Marka Ragnos was a minor lord, not even worthy of a small tomb such as this. The pyramid shape holds no meaning to the Sith. I suspect all that is represented here is a lack of imagination and an affection for the color black."
He sat cross-legged on the floor, adopting a meditative pose.
"Are you planning to think the crystal out?" Reyenna asked.
"Not every challenge can be overcome through brute force. You have a quick wit, so you must have a brain. Learn to use it. It will save your life as surely as any blade will."
He closed his eyes and meditated for several minutes. She stood guard in case the scavengers returned. When he opened his eyes, he announced that he was ready.
He studied the holocron again. "This is actually quite a simple lock," he said. "Any Sith, even the pretend Sith that occupy so much of this planet, could have had this out in a moment."
"Harkun said the Dark Council chose to leave it as a test for acolytes – ones like me, who are marked for failure."
"A poor test," Krell replied. "It's not a question of intellect, but of knowledge. The lock is unbreakable, if you don't know its secret. If you do know it, then it is no problem at all."
"So they've created a test for acolytes with no training... That can only be solved by someone with training?"
"Precisely."
Krell backed away, leaving the path to the holocron clear. "Do you know how to make lightning?" he asked.
She frowned. "I've seen it done."
Krell sighed impatiently.
"What have you done with the Force, other than move rocks?"
She told him of the telekinetic blast she had let loose on the training grounds. He nodded, satisfied.
"We'll start there. Extend your hand, like so." He held his right hand out, leveled at the holocron. She mimicked him. "Good. Now, focus on creating a telekinetic blast. As you did in the training room, but this time not out of panic."
She tried to focus on summoning the Force. But without a life-or-death situation, she couldn't manage it.
"Think back to the training room," Krell instructed. "What did you feel in that moment?"
"Panic," she said. "I knew that if I fell, Harkun would kill me."
"If you fail here, Harkun will still kill you. You need more than that. Close your eyes, block out everything but my voice." She did so, and he repeated, more firmly: "How did you feel the instant before you blasted your opponent off his feet?"
She focused on that moment. She had felt frustrated. The Rattataki was stronger than her, more skilled than her. She was weak, helpless. As helpless as when the guard had slashed his blade over her mother's throat.
Something stirred. Krell felt it.
"There," he said. "Whatever emotion you are feeling, hold it. Cling to it like a lover. Now, fan the flame – but slowly. You must control it, not the other way around. Let the pressure build."
Reyenna's entire being felt alive. Energy consumed her, crackling and spitting like the red beam of Krell's blade. It was hungry. It needed to consume a target. If she did not release it, then it would consume her.
"Now generate your blast, but keep it controlled. A narrow funnel of air, extending from the tips of your fingers to the holocron."
The energy leapt from her as she willed its release. She had to clamp down on it to keep it from bursting destructively over them. Gradually, she found the exact level of release to keep the air moving between her and her target.
"Envision lightning," Krell said. "You have felt the shock of the practice blade. Focus on that sensation. The tendrils of burning energy."
This was more complicated. Reyenna's first attempt resulted in flames, which she had to quickly halt to avoid setting their robes ablaze. After a few more tries, she managed a crackle of lightning.
"There it is," Krell said.
She felt exultant. The energy was pure dark power, and it was hers to command.
A loud, clicking sound came from the monument. A second later, the holocron was released. It did not fall to the ground, but instead floated directly into her outstretched hand.
She felt flush with power and triumph. Her eyes met Krell's. She was panting with the exultation of the moment, and she felt the sweat standing on her brow. He looked vaguely uncomfortable as her eyes met his. She reveled in that. It was another kind of power.
She extended a hand to him. "I don't think we need to rush back to our Masters."
He hesitated a moment, but she could sense that he was now caught in her spell. He took her hand, and she went to him, savoring the warmth of his red skin against her own, much colder flesh.
If anyone, slave or acolyte, came into the room and observed them, they knew better than to interrupt.