—/ Chapter 5 /—
Dathomir - Nightsister Encampment
[The two had stopped their speeders a ways away from the encampment when they spotted smoke and could hear the stomping of a Rancor nearby. Arran and Zanka crept through the forest and stopped on the edge of a hillside. They both looked out at the small camp. The nightsisters were dancing around a large fire. The Rancor they heard was off a ways in a large cage, beating on the carcass of a Bolma. In the middle of the fire was a large pole. Two humanoid corpses were hung on it, their bodies too badly burned to make out what species they were, or even what gender. During the dancing, lightning was being shot from their hands, and a black mist escaped from the fire. Arran had no idea what they were doing, to him it all looked silly. He glanced at Nk'ik and spoke quietly.]
Arran: The nightsisters are nothing but witches. They use the Dark Side in a raw, primitive form. Does their methods remind you of anyone?
Zanka: The first thing that comes to mind is our shamans. They don't use Dark Side techniques, just healing or divination. Maybe a couple of other things too.
Arran: This is nothing like your clan's shamans. Watch them. The Jedi wouldn't ever teach you something like this.
Zanka: [He nodded, closely watching the witch's actions. He reached out with the Force.]
[The Witches continued their dancing. Zanka watched them intently and stretched himself out with the Force, feeling what they were doing. This forced the Witches to stop, they armed themselves and looked around. Arran noticed this and looked over at Zanka, who had his eyes closed and his hand outstretched to the camp. He gave the jawa a sharp nudge.]
Arran: Look what you did, Nk'ik.
[Arran rose to his feet and pulled the jawa up with him. There was whooping and hollering from all around. He reached for his blaster, he could hear the witches running through the forest. Branches snapped under their quick movements.]
Zanka: I was trying to learn how they did it. I wanted to know.
Arran: I said watch them. You've alerted the entire camp.
Zanka: [Pulls out his heavy blaster pistol and readies it.] Great.
[Five nightsisters leaped down from the trees and surrounded the two. They used the Force to conceal themselves. A branch snapped under the foot of one. Arran narrowed his eyes and fired his blaster at one, dropping it. It looked as if he would have to use the Force to sense them.]
Arran: Wenches.
[Another threw a spear at Arran. He attempted to dodge it only for it to graze his shoulder. He had not fully healed. He let out a grunt of pain, unwilling to be stopped by primitive witches. Seeing a witch beginning to hurl lightning at him, his arm shot out and grabbed a nearby witch by the throat. He held her in front of him, grip not lessening as she screamed at being electrocuted.
Zanka had since taken off his face wrapping and wrapped each end around his hands.]
Zanka: [He muttered to himself as he gave it a taunt pull to ensure it held firm.] It would have been useful to finish learning if we weren't ambushed.
[Jumping up he slipped the wrapping around one of the witch's heads and began to strangle her, holding on as she thrashed about to shake him off. The nightsister fell backward, on top of the jawa, completely covering him. Several moments passed before a blaster shot erupted from the front of the nightsister's body. There was a smoking hole from where the shot erupted from. The jawa crawled out from underneath and stood up blaster in hand muttering swear words. He did not get very far.
The two found themselves amidst a barrage of Force Lightning from all around. Arran let out a groan of pain, sinking to his knees. He wasn't able to weather this, especially after the wounds he suffered on Lwhekk. He found himself on all fours. It was worse without the Force. Zanka did not fare much better. Letting out a yowl of pain, his body convulsed as the electricity coursed through him.
The anger swelled inside of Arran. Dark thoughts circled his mind. He was reminded of his past; the past that he had tried to forget and walk away from. He was a dark lord; responsible for the deaths of thousands. The deaths wouldn't stop, not while he was still alive. Arran accepted the anger and the raw fury, it gave him strength and allowed him to unlock his full potential. He wanted to unleash his power and show the nightsisters a true wielder of the Dark Side. That was when he saw Nk'ik. If he unleashed his power, the jawa would get caught in the crossfire. Arran subsided and fell to the ground, the darkness taking over his vision.
Soon blackness greeted the two.]
Long Ago Junk - Cargo Hold
[Several lights flicker on H8er's head and a series of beeps go off.]
R5-H8: It appears I am online again. This is worse than being given to jawas. I am forced to power down whenever the jawa sees fit. Every time I wake up, I remember that I have not been destroyed. It is horrific. Perhaps I should give the jawa more credit. I did not think there could be anything worse. Perhaps I should cooperate for a time, if only to cease the horror at realizing I continue to exist.
[H8er exited the cargo hold and went about the ship.]
R5-H8: Jawa! Master! I have decided to cooperate in the hopes that I am actually destroyed when all of this is over. Or you find a droid that actually enjoys serving you. Preferably the first as I do not want to be sold to another. That would mean my continued existence.
[He had covered most of the ship by now.]
R5-H8: Where is everyone? Perhaps if I stay on the ship and they return, they will be assured of my cooperation and destroy me.
[With that, H8er went to perform minimal repairs on the ship.]
Dathomir - Nightsister Stronghold
[The young jawa woke up with a crippling headache. His vision blurred, he searched around for Arran, finally locating the older man strung from a pole by his hands and feet. The jawa found himself in a similar predicament, and the more he fussed and tugged on the tight rope, the tighter the knots seemed to become. Zanka realized they were moved to a different camp, one with large walls surrounding the perimeter and stone structures. The whooping and hollering of the nightsisters stayed the same, however, as they continued to march around the fire. There was one woman in particular who stood in the middle of them all, chanting a prayer into the flames.]
Zanka: [He shook his head several times trying to make the headache go away. No such luck.] Arran. You awake?
[Arran hung like dead weight, but the movement of his chest assured Zanka that he was still alive. The jawa let out a sigh and again tried fiddling with the rope on his wrists. He abruptly stopped fiddling. This was just like the cuffs. He broke those cuffs. He could break these rope bindings. Flexing his arm muscles, he gave a great pull. It didn't work. Gritting his teeth, he gave another pull. The ropes had been tied securely. Letting a growl of frustration escape his mouth he gave a final pull and broke the ropes. With his hands free, he began to undo the ropes that bound his legs. Doing so, he fell on the ground.
It was then that he realized he was missing both his poncho and bandoleer. The poncho had been a gift from Jaden. Nothing he could do about it. He had already burned bridges with his former Jedi Master. The loss of the poncho just made it drive the point home in physical terms. He began to undo the bindings around Arran's legs. It took him several minutes to undo the knot, the headache pounding away. He nudged Arran's legs once more.]
Zanka: Arran. Wake up.
[Arran could still feel the lightning striking his body. Smoke rose from his back. First a strike from Liz, the others by the Nightsisters. Arran's breathing slowed, his vision blurred. Darkness shrouded him until all he saw was nothingness. He was unconscious, in a deep meditative state, feeling life leave him. Arran wanted to let go and let his life slip. But some strength inside kept him from doing so. He saw his father, Daveth Khaar, walk towards him and shake his head before letting out a hand. He wanted to take it, but he didn't.
Daveth: [shaking his head] What has my son become?
Arran: You know that answer already. I am no different than I was. You never stopped me before.
Daveth: You give into darkness because it is easy. You do it to protect yourself and the people you love.
Arran: You say it as if it's a bad thing.
Daveth: I say it because it's the truth. Now what are you going to do? [he wore his traditional Jedi robes, looking down at Arran] What's worse, you brought the jawa into the danger. This is your fight. [he pointed at Arran.]
Arran: The jawa has heart. He would have came on his own if he had the chance.
Daveth: [He took a step back and lowered his hood, revealing his warm face that Arran remembers from his childhood.] So what now? You give back into darkness and betray your brother—
Arran: I have done a lot to protect the Jedi in my own way. I see through the lies of the Jedi. The Dark Side is my ally, even if it is a deceiver at times. I can utilize both—
Daveth: You are no longer a child burning ants under glass Arran. You do not have the level of control you think you do. Kneel before the light. Accept it. Diminish the darkness that plagues you [Daveth said, pleading to his son.]
Arran: I kneel before no one. I will not be condemned a slave. I have control. I have learned to accept my anger, and not be afraid of it like the Jedi. I use my emotions to guide me. I do not follow a doctrine, I follow myself. Brand me a Sith if you want father, but I will not change.
Daveth: [He nodded and waved away at Arran with his hands.] You were always stubborn. Go. It is not your time yet. Do what you will.
Arran: I always do [ He watched Daveth walk away, and felt life returning to him.]
[With Arran showing no signs of waking up anytime soon, Zanka began to untie the ropes that bound his hands. It was slightly easier now that he had undone the knot once. Within a moment Arran had fallen to the ground with a slight thud.
Arran hit the floor, he awoke instantly with a gasp of air from the impact. His eyes were hard to open, but when they did he could see the jawa's bright yellow eyes looking at him. Behind him, he saw the Nightsisters gathering around them.]
Arran: Nk'ik, what have you done?
Zanka: I was trying to escape.
[Arran witnessed the Nightsisters gathering in large groups, armed with spears and other weapons pointed at them. He lowered his head on the ground and let out a long sigh.]
Arran: You're doing a hell of a job.
Zanka: I regained consciousness first. I decided to act.
Arran: Act? You call this acting? You wake up first, free me, and let every nightsister know that we're awake and fleeing. You acted irrationally and out of turn.
Zanka: I could have let Nightsisters kill us in our sleep. [He went on sarcastically] Yeah, now that I think on it, that's a better plan.
Arran: If they wanted to kill us, they'd have done it already. We were strung up Nk'ik. They escorted us to their stronghold. We're prisoners.
Zanka: [He could have mentioned Tuskens kill prisoners. He figured it wasn't the best idea. They weren't the same as Nightsisters, probably.] I didn't want them to get any further drops on us.
Arran: Consider them dropped Nk'ik. [Arran slowly gets to his feet, dusting himself off, he looks for his blaster on his belt but notices that it's been taken. Before them are more than a dozen Nightsisters, much more than the number in the encampment they viewed previously.] I don't suppose you thought of a plan when you woke up before me?
Zanka: Only two—sneak out, or fight. It really boiled down to those two.
[Arran discreetly felt around in his pockets. Tucked in the corner of his front pocket, he could feel the outline of his comm unit. He wouldn't use it right away. Instead he calmly clasped his hands behind his back and looked out at the Nightsisters.]
Arran: Eat the jawa first. He's tender—Rancors will enjoy him as a quick snack.
Zanka: Humans have a higher nutritional value. They have a large amount of iron. They're not sour like jawas are.
Arran: True. He's right, I'm the wiser choice. Feed him to your young ones, he won't put up much of a fight.
Zanka: [he responded with bit of a biting tone] I could say same about you recently.
[Arran rose a fist to strike the jawa but an elder of the Nightsisters walked to the front and put the two in a Force stasis.]
Elder Nightsister: Silence! We have no interest in your petty quarrels. Who do you take us for? We aren't savages! Sisters, resume the ritual. [A grin appeared on the woman's face as the two were levitated into the air and placed before the fire. The witch released them from their stasis. Arran's blow met the side of Zanka's head.]
Zanka: Asshole.
Arran: It would've happened sooner. You knew it was coming.
[The Nightsisters chanted and danced around the fire. The lead Witch smiled at Arran as she used a form of magic on the fire. She walked over to him with a blade and quickly cut his hand. She took hold of his hand and squeezed out a few drops of blood onto a wooden plate before tossing the plate into the fire. The fire shot out a dark red smoke into the air. The red smoke grew larger until it billowed over them. It at first showed vague images of Arran and Drasli at a young age, then Arran being tortured by the Sith. People were being slaughtered by Arran. His deeply hued eyes pierced through the cloud. Finally it showed the duel of Arran and Drasli, one that changed their lives forever.
The cloud then showed Liz and her seduction towards the Dark Side. Arran felt a warmth in his heart that he controlled and let go away. He felt the pain in his stomach from the lightsaber piercing through him.]
Elder Nightsister: [laughing] Your thoughts betray you, Militus.
[That name. Hearing it leave the elder Nightsisters lips left Arran feeling cold. The Dark Side lingered inside of him, and the sound of his old Sith name drew it out of its dormant state. He tried to control it, but the power was overwhelming.]
Arran: That isn't my name anymore.
Elder Nightsister: Sure it is. You cannot contain the darkness. We felt your presence as soon as you landed on Dathomir. We knew you would come to us. You were drawn here, even after you tried to sever yourself from us. Yes, we are both connected to the Dark Side of the Force. There's no escaping.
[The scenes in the smoke weren't over, Arran watched as the memories of his younger self unfolded around him. He slaughtered countless Jedi, some he didn't even remember, but he didn't doubt that they happened. Temples crumbled; leaving nothing but tremors in the Force of what used to be there.]
Arran: Why are you showing this to me, Witch? [he was done watching his past. He had lived through it and knew what he had done. Whatever the witch was planning, it wasn't going to work.]
Elder Nightsister: You are a Dark Lord at heart, Militus...you cannot escape the Dark Side...You have even started to corrupt the jawa by just standing near him. I can sense the darkness in him as well.
[There was the image of Drasli again. Arran narrowed in on his brother's face and watched as he cut down his brothers wife, Laura. He still had regrets for killing her, the mother of his children. Especially when Drasli had led a dangerous mission to save Liz. He had done so much for Arran multiple times. The last time nearly costed Khaar his life. He repaid Drasli by trying to turn his only daughter, Lyla Khaar, away from the Dark Side when she lingered close to the edge.]
Arran: You know nothing of my life.
Elder Nightsister: Perhaps not...but I will soon enough.
Arran: [He watched images of more Jedi screaming as they were slain by Arran, some hunted down as they quivered in fear.] What do you want from me Witch?
Elder Nightsister: [laughs] You are a powerful ally to the Dark Side. It craves for your presence again. Even now it lingers inside of you. Unleash it!
Arran: I cannot become what I was so foolishly in my youth.
Elder Nightsister: You had power and instilled fear. Many would still be alive if you were still as powerful. Militus will never be put behind you. He will ALWAYS live inside.
Arran: I have learned to cage the beast [he tried ignoring the images flashing before him.]
Elder Nightsister: You are no Jedaii...I sense no such resolve inside of you. You are a shell of what you once were. Why, I wonder?
[Arran stayed quiet, but images appeared over the fire. It showed Arran with Drasli, Arran's son Kyle, and Liz. He had made promises to each of them to be better. Arran lowered his head. Giving back into the darkness would be so easy. He would have no problem slaughtering the Nightsisters where they stood. Why fear himself and his true potential?]
Elder Nightsister: You have ignored your true self for too long…—You even ignore The Betrayer when she gives you guidance on Korriban.
[Images appear of Kreia revealing herself to Zanka and Arran on Korriban. '"Do not face the threat alone," echoes in the voice of the old crone that had offered them guidance, guidance that Arran had not taken.
The Nightsister then walked up to the jawa and cut his hand, pouring his blood on a plate before casting it into the fire.]
Elder Nightsister: Let us show you your future, if you proceed down your true path.
Zanka: You mean like my shamans?
Elder Nightsister: Quiet fool. We are not as simplistic as your Jawa shamans.
Zanka: Fuck you.
[In the smoke are images of Zanka, Arran, H8er, and two others—clarity shines through as Arran looks up, seeing the face of Myles, and Azura. Sith were being slain at their feet, Arran was embracing his full rage, donning his old armor, the armor the galaxy once recognized and feared. There is darkness as the clouds reform. Zanka looked physically stronger, a greater deal of muscle was visible. He wore black robes with armor plating on them with a black cloak over it. The armor seemed to be made of some sort of bone. His yellow eyes had become red. His facewrap was not on—one could see his face completely. A torrent of fire flew from his fingertips. The makeshift group seen in the image had fought their way through the Sith temple, until coming to a figure sitting on a throne. Arran saw his face up close, he recognized it from his past. It was not someone he ever thought he would see—it wasn't someone he even knew was alive. Beside him was Liz.
Arran had seen enough.
[He rose his head slowly, eyes glaring at the head Witch. The other Nightsisters dropped their spears and grabbed at their necks. Arran had a hold on all of them. The Dark Side swirled inside of him, feeding into his anger and hatred. The Elder Nightsister looked around in amazement before smiling. Militus was showing through. The image of Militus came back in the clouds and stayed strong in the fire, slowly increasing in size.]
Arran: You better run Nk'ik.
Zanka: I don't think so.
[Arran kept his hold on the Nightsisters strong, leaving some room for air to still breathe. Arran forced the Nightsisters to drop to their knees all at once, even their Rancor, who had just come out from the cave, had dropped to the ground, grabbing at its neck and roaring in confusion. He was now walking towards the head Witch. She met him with her hands outstretched, she shot lightning from her fingertips. Arran ignored the pain and grabbed at her hands, squeezing them tightly before grabbing at her throat. The image of Militus grew darker in the smoke. Arran threw the Elder Nightsister into the inferno. She screamed as the flames cooked her flesh.
Arran looked at the remaining Nightsisters who still were grabbing at their throats. He looked them each in the eye before tightening his grip on their throats. The sounds of snapping necks sounded like twigs snapping in the forest. They each fell over. It was done. The images faded away until there was nothing but Arran, Zanka, and a normal fire.
Even the Rancor's neck cracked loudly as it fell over. Arran looked around the area at the dead Nightsisters and then peered at the corpse of the Witch burning in the fire. His anger was building, and even though he had killed many, it didn't quench it. He was ashamed of himself, but had almost forgotten what the darkness felt like. It felt good. But he knew going down this path would only bring him more pain...it seemed like a fair trade.
More Nightsisters were coming out of their homes to greet them. Arran didn't have his lightsaber, but he had the Force, and he was ready to deliver more pain.]
Arran: Nk'ik, make me proud, or get out of my way.
[The jawa nodded and turned to face a Nightsister who had begun to stab at him with a spear. Dodging the first stab, the second broke his rib. He let out a yowl of pain. He used the Force to pull the spear from the Nightsister's hands into his own. The Nightsister smirked and unleashed a torrent of fire towards Zanka. He threw the spear to the side and rolled to his right, letting out a gasp of pain.
Picking himself up, he watched as the Nightsister redirected the torrent of fire towards him. He wasn't sure how she did it. Another roll would not be a wise choice given the pain the last one caused. All of the anger he had been holding onto for some time erupted. The man who killed his parents, Tuzmek, Jaden—the being constantly attacked. He was sick of it. Using the Force he caused the Nightsister to fall on her back before doing the first thing that came to his mind. He had a general idea of what to do. Now was the time to do it. He gathered Force energy in his hands and sent several sparks of Force Lightning towards the Nightsister. She convulsed for several seconds but gave the jawa a glare as the sparks stopped. Not wasting a moment, he ran up to her and stomped her face in.]
Arran: [He smiled at the jawa's results and took out his comm unit. A Nightsister jumped to attack, but Arran took hold of her in the Force and slammed her into the ground multiple times. He was about to comm for H8er to pick them up, but instead he contacted someone else.] Myles. If you can hear me, I'm on Dathomir. Search for the 'Long Ago Junk', you will find me there. Bring the Shadows. [He clicked the comm unit off.] Nk'ik, let's go.
Zanka: Give me a minute.
[Zanka had begun looking through the small huts until he found what he was looking for. His bandoleer and blaster were on the ground amidst some familiarly colored rags as well as Arran's blaster. He paused. That was the same color of the poncho Jaden had given him. He was about to have some sort of saddened feeling but stopped. He had already given up on the poncho. Just like he had given up on Jaden. He picked up Arran's blaster and lobbed it to him before picking up the pieces of the poncho. He walked back to Arran, and tossed the remains of his poncho in the fire before turning to him.]
Zanka: Let's go.
[Arran nodded and grabbed his blaster, securing it in his holster. He felt the anger swell, and he stared down the remaining Nightsisters that charged them. Using the Force, Arran lifted the carcass of the Rancor off of the ground and hurled it in their direction. This gave the two an opportunity to leave. Arran took it. He started running toward the Stronghold wall, using the Force to kick him up off the ground with a mighty leap. He landed and kept on running.]
Arran: Contact H8er. Find out where the hell we were. If we can locate the speeders we can make our way back to the spaceport. Myles will be waiting for us there.
Zanka: [Taking out his comm unit he paged H8er] H8er, get us our position.
R5-H8: [Almost immediately and sounding oddly cheerful] Ninety clicks South of where the spaceport is, jawa.
Arran: Good. Prepare for visitors.