—/ Chapter 2 /—
Korriban - Valley of Dark Lords
[The rickety YT-2000 ship landed harshly on the surface, if not with some finesse from Zanka's piloting skills. Still, Arran held onto a leather handle due to the excessive bouncing the ship made as it touched ground. The weight of Arran's downward thrust forced the handle to snap, a cloud of rust billowing towards Arran's face. The man growled and murmured some nasty words under his breath as the ramp lowered. Arran head out immediately and surveyed the area, waiting for the jawa and the droid to join him.
Zanka had put a lot of time and effort into ensuring the ship was functional, if barely. It was a tough landing, but it beat the ship crashing like it was piloted by some crazy droid. He got up from the couch, and made his way to the hyperdrive room.]
Zanka: H8er, you're needed outside.
R5-H8: [made what appeared to be a sigh] Hopefully some dirt enters my left leg, rendering it inoperable and allowing me to tumble off the edge of some nearby cliff.
[Zanka did not comment, instead the two exited the ship via the loading ramp, where they joined Arran outside. Arran wore dark robes with a hood drawn over his face. He didn't turn when he senses his two companions meeting him outside.]
Arran: H8er, stay here and watch the ship. Nk'ik, you're with me. [Arran had started walking away from the ship when he suddenly halted and looked back at the droid.] Do anything stupid and I'll send you to Tatooine in pieces—with your processor and memory core intact.
Zanka: [He followed Arran at a brisk pace to keep up. Korriban felt how it did before. There was a lot of Force concentration, though it felt cold.] Where are we going?
Arran: [Notices the change in the jawa's attitude. The pain felt on Korriban did not affect him. He hadn't considered how it might fare with Zanka's Jedi teaching.] I'm not sure. The Force sent me here for a reason. I don't know why Liz would be here. It doesn't make any sense. Keep your focus on what we're doing. The Jedi Code has no use here.
Zanka: That might be the reason that the Jedi never come here. The ones that do, see things.—hallucinations. [He paused for a moment, remembering his own the first time he had come here. One of them had involved the man he was currently with.] Liz's reason for being here isn't important, what matters is that we find her.
Arran: That is true. Keep your eyes and mind open. This could be a trap. I sense something...odd.
[Arran searched for Liz's familiar impression through the Force, but he felt something else entirely—something he wasn't sure off. Yet it lured him deeper through the depths of Korriban, right to the steps of old ruins.]
Zanka: [He reached out with the Force. He remembered Arran's words, he knew Jedi Code was useless here—it wasn't like he used it anyway. Still, the last time he had come to Korriban, he didn't have the idea to reach out. It probably would have made the trip worse. His breathing was ragged and he took a gulp to himself. He steeled eyes ahead towards the ruins.]
Arran: Either maintain your false "Jedi" identity or let it go, Nk'ik. This planet has been through a lot, I can sense you letting the accumulated dark energy on this planet consume you. Stop fighting it. Pain is normal. It's not something that can be ignored.
Zanka: [It made sense. It would be worse to ignore his feelings and shove them to the side. He remembered the pirate Tuzmek and how he had cut off his leg due to his built up anger towards the alien. He wasn't complaining about that, the man had it coming due to his murdering of the jawa's clan-mates. It brought up a bigger question however, if he wasn't a Jedi, what good would it do to hold onto those teachings? It did nothing for him. Zanka stopped fighting against the planet. The pain was still there, but at the very least he wasn't attempting to fight against it.] I get it.
[Arran nodded and went inside of the old ruins, stepping over a crumpled piece of a stone pillar. The sun broke through the decrepit temple, leaving a trail of light for them to follow. Zanka followed, doing his best to keep up with Arran despite all the debris blocking his way. The deeper the two went into the ruins, the darker it seemed to become, and the harder it became to breath. Arran took out his lightsaber and flicked it on, letting the red hue from it be their guide through the darkness.
The two of them kept quiet, obviously too busy trying to watch their footing in the ruins. Coming down a staircase, Arran stopped in his tracks and looked down, seeing that the staircase had broken off into a seemingly bottomless pit. Arran put his free hand in front of Zanka to keep him from falling in. Arran then reached out and threw Zanka across the chasm, using the Force to make sure he would reach the other side unharmed. Arran followed him. He felt the Force leading him deeper and deeper inside. The descending staircase brought them into an open room with three separate pathways. In the center was a dark obelisk. The room was filled with smoke, and there was a stronger sense of hatred and pain. Arran felt it, even he had a hard time coping with the emotions flowing through him, but he attributed that to the darkness he had dealt with throughout his life, the darkness he chose to ignore, the darkness that always lingered in the depths of his being but lay dormant. He suspected Zanka would feel something similar.]
Arran: I would not question you if you decide to head back to the ship.
[Zanka felt it. The welling up of anger, of things that had hurt him. He remembered his childhood and the man who had killed his parents, he remembered the slaughtering of his clan-mates. They were things still upset him, but that he had pushed to the back of his mind. Being here, it brought them to the forefront of his mind. His first response was to fight it. He didn't. It took him a long moment before he responded.]
Zanka: My wife is scarier than this.
Arran: [He gave Zanka a nod and a small chuckle.] So is mine.
Zanka: The lady who ignored me and walked away? She just reminded me of Zaxara.
Arran: [He raised his eyebrow at the Jawa.] That lady is my wife. She stood by me through it all; the good, the bad. All of it. Without her, I wouldn't have been able to make the Union. She gave me strength and direction. Only a good woman can have that effect on a man.
Zanka: How did you meet? Did you train her?
Arran: [He slows his pace at the incoming questions with a bewildered look on his face.] Yes, I trained her. When I found her—rather when she found me—she was a barmaid. She had a strong connection to the Force, a nice set of tits, and after a couple of drinks I convinced her to leave everything behind. I met her after I had lost everything. She helped me rebuild what was left of my militia.
Zanka: So uh, did you ever do 'normal' human family things? Like on the holovids? House with a picket fence on Corellia, have some kids, that sort of thing. Or was it just rebuilding the Galaxy with you two?
Arran: Normal is boring. Besides, I don't think I could 'do normal' even if I wanted to. Neither of us wanted to settle down. Our home was the Galaxy. We held it all and went wherever we pleased.
Zanka: How long have you been together?
Arran: A long time, which is why we need to find her. There's definitely an allure about this place, but I don't sense her presence. [Taking out his comm unit, a sharp beep came from it as he opened a clear channel between himself and the ship] H8er, come in. What's the status of the ship? [There was nothing but static coming through.] Damn. We've gone deep in these ruins—I'm not getting a signal. Let's hope the droid hasn't done anything stupid. It'd be a pity to have to search for a new one.
Zanka: [He let out a sigh.] There's that, and the fact that it's on board my ship as well. Anything the droid does will probably damage the ship too. If it does, I'll deliver it to the inbreds myself.
[Suddenly, a fog descended upon the room. Arran and Zanka could make the faint outline of a being. It was particularly odd in that they had been the only ones in the room before. As the figure moved towards them, its face could be seen clearer.]
Arran: [Extending his lightsaber outwards towards the figure, Arran gave a sharp growl.] Come any closer and the Hssiss will feast on your flesh.
Zanka: [He used the Force to pull his lightsaber from within the confines of his boot. He ignited both ends. There was a temptation to yell 'Utinni' as his people typically did before a fight. He controlled it. He glared at the figure but said nothing.]
Figure: [The figure looks at the two from behind a dark veil, a face not seen, but when it speaks, its voice is sharp, but feminine] You believe your lightsabers will help you here? You act like children; you come in here with no true intent, you simply follow. I have been trying to reach you for some time. It seems I've finally reached you, although I am disappointed.
Arran: [He looks dumbfounded at his lightsaber before pulling it back at his side, maintaining a defensive pose.] Reveal yourself wench, and tell me why you've brought me here.
Figure: You keep yourself surrounded by interesting company, an eccentric jawa and a malfunctioned droid...Yet you hold all responsibility on your shoulders. You believe yourself powerful enough to win?
Arran: Hold your tongue. You do not know me. Reveal yourself!
[The figure stays in the shadow for some time, keeping quiet. It finally starts to move forward, breaking the dark cloud to reveal herself. The face is shrunken and wrinkled, a dark robe covers her body and most of her face, yet enough is revealed to show she is an aged woman, with a dark hue surrounding her person.]
Figure: I am the one that holds the knowledge of betrayal. Who has been betrayed in their heart, and will betray in turn. I see the same in you. You remind me of someone I used to know...but that was millennia ago. Some things change in time...yet some things manage to stay the same. You were wise to come here on instinct alone. Tell me, do you know who I am?
Zanka: [He remembered her face. When he first joined the Jedi, he had been asked to do a report on someone he found interesting in history. He had picked her. He heard she spoke in circles and riddles, but to hear it was another thing altogether.] You have several names. Arren Kae, Kreia, and Darth Traya. You were a Dark Lord of the Sith and the head of the Sith Triumvirate. You taught both Darth Sion and Darth Nihilus. Your hand was chopped off. Before becoming Sith you were a historian and a Jedi Archivist. You were succeeded by Atris. You taught Revan and the Jedi Exile. Your base of operations was on Malachor V which is now destroyed. You had a daughter out of wedlock who was also Force-Sensitive. Her name was Brianna. She became a Jedi. You're dead and now apparently a Force ghost.
Arran: [He gives the jawa a weird look, his mouth gaped open.] How the hell do you know so much on her?
Zanka: I wrote an essay on her when I first joined the Jedi.
Kreia: Because he is not a fool. I am glad I have not disappeared into history entirely. But that is not important. What is important, is why you are here. You search for someone, someone important to you. Is this person worth searching for? Is she worth dying for?
Arran: If you know me as well as you think you do, you'd know I am already dead, and I search for my wife.
Kreia: You are an imbecile. You live because of what you have learned. You have achieved a level of understanding most Jedi and Sith only dream of achieving, yet you have learned nothing. Think. You were betrayed by the government that you fought to create, your wife taken from you—all odds were against you, and yet here you are. You live, and you continue to fight. You hold the galaxy by its throat yet wield it like a stubborn child.
Arran: And I suppose you have brought me here to teach me the error of my ways?
Kreia: I am not here to coddle you. You have been attacked by the Sith. You lost your ship to them and you were hunted. Your jawa companion came to your aid and nearly lost his life in the process. Have you not wondered where they came from? Have you not wondered who controls them?
Arran: [He gives a glance to Zanka. He had not told the jawa of his pursuers.] They want me dead. There are lots who do. I believe they have possession of my wife. I will kill them, and bring her back.
Zanka: [He would have liked to talk to the Force ghost himself, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew the type of person she was. He doubted he would get a straight answer out of her. What he did get, was that they were being followed. What was more, was that the people were trying to kill him. It wasn't something new to him, people trying to kill him, it was just different in that now he was only with Arran than with the Jedi.]
Kreia: Yes, jawa. This man has had your life in danger the entire time. Do you feel safe in his care? Do you still look up to him as you once did?
Zanka: [His large, glowing, yellow eyes stared at her for a long moment before narrowing. He was seething.] I stand on my own feet. I was in danger before I met up with Arran. I don't care about safety. At least I feel more secure than you did when your hand was cut off.
Kreia: [Her lips curl from behind her hood, her tone cold] We shall see if you hold your own in the face of it all. [Her gaze meets Arran as she grasps her hands together.] Will you blindly face danger head on? You know the threat you face...but to what extent, I wonder.
Arran: I'll do what I have to. Point me in the right direction and I'll prove you wrong.
Kreia: Yes, 'where' indeed. Your eyes are open, yet you do not see. Your ears are audible, yet you hear nothing. The Force is strong with you, yet you hold no wisdom. It is not my place to tell you where to go. I brought you here for a warning, heed it.
Arran: A warning? What possible knowledge could you have for me?
Kreia: I can see your fate before you. You would risk your own life, charge in head on without knowing what you are facing, and you will die—alone, with nothing to accompany you but your last thoughts...betrayal.
Arran: [Arran turns off his lightsaber and heads back they way they came] I don't have time for this. Come Nk'ik, the ghosts of the Force offer nothing else than cryptic messages. I wouldn't trust anything they say.
Kreia: Then I offer you nothing more than parting advice: do not face the threat alone. There is a dark power at play here, do not try to fight it alone, or you will die alone, as I did.
Zanka: [He muttered, more to himself than anything] No cryptic warning for me. I guess I'll take payment instead. [With that, Zanka began to carve away at the base of the obelisk, paying no attention to the Force ghost. It fell with a loud thud, sending dust flying in all directions. He lifted it with the Force and looked at Kreia.] This is mine now.
[The apparition of Kreia did not bother looking at the jawa, but it simply watched Arran walk away, and slowly dissipate back into the darkness. The fog in the room diminishes, but there is a loud crashing noise that shakes the ruins of the Temple. Arran turns sharply at Zanka, seeing the obelisk falling to the ground. However, it is much louder than that, and the noise appears to be coming from outside. Arran fastens his steps, careful to jump over the abyss, and runs outside. Zanka aptly follows, careful as to not drop the obelisk as he does so. The two reach the surface, only to see the 'Long Ago Junk' missing. Floating up and over the cliffside was black smoke. Arran shook his head and ran down the Valley of the Dark Lords, passing by the statues of Sith whose names he couldn't even fully recall, nor did he really care to. Zanka followed, articulately planting his footing and watching over the floating object at his side. Looking over the edge of the cliffside, the two see an R5 unit looking over at a crater, where the 'Long Ago Junk' sat, its front smashed into the ground.]