Chapter 11
Turning a Jedi is a simple, if dangerous matter. Their affinity for the light side of the force only functions when they have peace and calm. Torture, particularly long, sustained torment of the flesh and spirit, will disrupt their focus and fill them with negative emotions that they must release and overcome to cling to the light. As their bodies and minds break down, the whispers of the dark side will grow stronger and more seductive as they begin to realize that there is no hope of escape without the force. Sooner or later, they will reach out in pain and desperation, and the dark side will answer their call. Remember: the suffering is not to break them. Its purpose is to help them taste the darkness. But be wary of their power. When fueled by rage, agony, fear, and hatred, the dark side will make any force user a formidable enemy.
--The Holocron of Darth Malek, a treasure of the Korriban Sith Academy
The entrance to the Catacombs of Naga Sadow was very underwhelming. The soldiers stationed around the hole in the mountainside seemed alert but relaxed; clearly the dangers inside rarely emerged into the light of Korriban's harsh sun. I flexed my broken arm, feeling the motors in the brace respond to my temporary cybernetic implant and giving me back the ability to use it, even if it was sluggish compared to my regular arm. When the medics had initially triaged my injuries, they'd wanted me to rest and heal for a couple of weeks while the bone regrew, but because I knew I couldn't afford to take the time or show weakness at this stage of my training, I had insisted on the brace. It would be surgically removed after a couple of weeks and it would take longer to heal overall, but I would be functional during the recovery, so I considered it worth it. Lady Zash had certainly approved of my decision. The medics had numbed my arm before screwing the pins into my bones, but the injection was beginning to wear off and the area was starting to ache sharply. The pain could potentially be a grand source of the dark side, I knew, but it could be equally dangerous if it distracted me from the dangers inside.
I had an advantage over Ffon, because I knew about the Sith rods and he did not, but he had a substantial head start, and that worried me. Sure, Harkun had all but held his hand to get him to this point, but that didn't mean he was stupid. Ffon had to be capable for Harkun to consider him a viable candidate for Lady Zash; the overseer wouldn't want to risk upsetting a Sith Lady by presenting her with an incompetent apprentice. And although Lady Zash had warned him not to interfere, I believed Harkun would do his best to get the information to Ffon. If I couldn't reach the Deshade first, knowing how to get into the chamber and release him, I might as well die in the tomb. There would be no future for me within the academy. Harkun would be delighted to execute me.
The tombs were lit by floodlights that were positioned in corners and around prominent artifacts, which cast deep shadows, perfect for hiding. I tried to keep out of the harsh light, straining my Cathar senses and reaching out with my fledgeling force abilities to try to locate enemies and other sith before I came upon them. I was pretty sure that if Ffon caught me unawares, I was as good as dead. Conversely, if I could ambush him, I believed I had enough abilities in my arsenal to destroy him before he could properly defend himself and attack me.
I heard the slightest grind of gears in motion the second before the droid attacked. It was enough warning to drop my satchel and pull up a force barrier that absorbed the first blaster bolt; I flung lightning forward, striking the first of the ancient-looking droids as two more unfolded from the ground and brought their weapons to bear. I pushed harder, and the lightning jumped from my initial target to engulf its fellows, frying all three in a colorful display of blue and yellow sparks as their wiring shorted out. I didn't bother trying to scavenge anything from the broken remains; I was in too much of a hurry. I encountered many mechanical enemies during my journey, but only twice did I sense another acolyte. Each time I hid myself in the shadows behind statues and debris until they passed.
I was even more cautious as I got near to the location of the hidden chamber, but there was no sign of Ffon. The room containing the secret entrance was of medium size, situated near the back of the catacombs. Four small alcoves held weathered alters, turning the diamond-shaped room into more of an octagon. Large statues stood near each alcove, looming menacingly down between carvings with crystal inlays that decorated the walls and pillars. A raised platform sat in the center of the floor. The only remarkable thing about it was a trio of statues that had been carved prostrating themselves. Other than that, it was a meditation chamber like many of the others that I'd passed on my way in.
I examined everything carefully, wondering where the rods would be placed. The altars showed promise. They seemed to be made to hold some sort of sacrifice, as the top formed a bit of a basin with a hole in the bottom that had mostly been used to drain the blood, if the stains on the stone were any indication. However, it was the only place I could find that would fit a rod-like implement.
I left the meditation chamber and began looking for the rods that Lady Zash had described. I knew that they couldn't just be sitting loose on shelves or in chests somewhere, or they'd have been found long before. Were they buried somewhere? How else could they be hidden? Were they inside one of them many sarcophagi that sat in the dark corners? I really didn't want to go grave-robbing; as a slave, I'd heard too many horror stories of traps and poisons and mysterious Sith magics to risk it if I didn't have to.
And then I saw it: a statue unlike the other tall figures that had been placed in what felt like every available nook and cranny in the tomb. It knelt, head bowed, hands outstretched, offering a scepter. The staff portion was of a dark, ornately carved metal, but the pointed jewel at the top looked to be the same crystal as the meditation chamber! I couldn't quite reach it, so I clawed my way up the statue, feeling my injuries protest painfully, and inched carefully to perch on the arms so I could examine it more closely.
I could see why nobody had thought to remove the scepter before. The staff was firmly cemented into the grasp of the statue; the stone fingers fit into a groove in the metal, so it wasn't possible to pry it from the figure's grasp without actually shattering the stone. But I wasn't squeamish. It amused me to take my vibroblade and break the rod free, considering my own physical condition.
When I returned to the meditation chamber, I checked to see if the heavy rod would fit inside the hole of one of the altars. Sure enough, it slid and twisted perfectly into place. I didn't dare leave it there, though, in case Ffon were to return and see it. I hid it in the loose sand and gravel beneath a nearby sarcophagus so that I wouldn't be hampered by carrying its bulk. Then I went off to find the others.
Now that I knew what I was looking for, the search went quickly. I found the other scepters and broke them loose, avoiding other acolytes as I dragged them back to my hiding place each time. There was no sign of Ffon no matter where I went. I'd spent over a day in the catacombs; I was getting tired, but I didn't want to wait. I was so close I could almost taste it.
I took the rods and placed them in the altars, carefully turning them until their crystals were perfectly aligned. I took a deep breath, held it, released it, and ascended the meditation platform. I felt the dark side rise around me, filling the room with swirling, twisting energy, and the crystal scepters and crystal inlays around the room began to ring with an almost imperceptible sound that made my bones vibrate. I fed the force my fear of failure, my anger at the easy Ffon faced during the trials, my hatred of Harkun's cheating, and the deep, throbbing agony from my injuries. The volume grew until my hearing was almost overwhelmed; I could feel my fangs growing and my claws extending. Still, nothing happened.
Remembering the tomb of Marka Ragnos, I sent a small shock at one of the scepters. The room flashed brightly as the lightning reflected among the other 3 rods, encircling me for a brief moment as all the crystal in the room lit up. Illuminated was a large symbol on one wall that had been hitherto hidden by many inscriptions. I knew what to do. I extended my hands and poured lightning into the scepters, which flared so dazzlingly I could see nothing but the afterimages for a moment. I was unprepared when the lightning hit me.
I had stopped powering the scepters, but somehow they had captured and multiplied the energy I'd poured into them, reflecting it back on me. I screamed and writhed as it sank into my skin, burning my flesh and charring my fur. Instinctively I tried to channel it back into the rods, but that only seemed to amplify the power. My muscles seized and spasmed, twisting and tearing at me. I tried to keep my feet, tried to walk away, but I had no control over my body anymore. I fell to my knees, then to all fours, feeling even more energy flooding my body until I thought I might die from the pain and overwhelming power. From one corner of my eye, I spied the trio of prostrate statues, groveling like slaves, groveling like I was. Beyond even the consuming agony of the lightning that was slowly destroying me, I felt a white-hot rage. I might die here, but I would not die a slave!
Somehow I got to my feet again. Instead of trying to deflect the lightning, instead of trying to keep it from hitting me, I pulled it in, welcoming it all into my body. My vision began to fade from pain, and I knew I would pass out soon, so with all of my energy , I channeled the lightning, not back at the scepters, but ahead, directly into the wall and the crystal symbol that was now glowing. My torture changed as I became a conduit for the power; I was still overwhelmed by the sensations, but it wasn't just pain anymore. It was intoxicating, and the pleasure of the dark side grew to a fever pitch within me until I didn't care about the agony. Just when I believed I might die after all, there was a rumble of ancient gears. The symbol split down the center as the wall slid apart to reveal my goal.
The scepters ceased their assault on me, and I stood in the center of the meditation chamber, staggering, burned, but alive, tears streaming down my fur, drunk on the heady rush of the dark side still thundering through my veins. Healing myself was easy with such power around me. I smiled as the burns vanished before my gaze. It hurt, but the pain was of little consequence. I was alive. The door was open. The first part of the task was done.
The Deshade's chamber had roughly carved walls that extended high above my head and deep below my feet. I wasn't sure how people hadn't realized such a space existed in the mountain before, but I chalked it up to some sith sorcery or ancient technology. The room was necessarily large, because in the center was built an enormous contraption. Power arced around it, and suspended in the middle of the ancient stasis chamber (for surely that's what it was) hung an alien, vaguely humanoid, with bone-white skin, black tattoos, and red markings. It had three long claws on its hands and feet, and its arms and torso were so muscular that it didn't appear to have much of a neck. Long fangs and a mouth full of sharp teeth made it clear just how powerful a predator it was.
Riding high on the wave of the dark side as I was, I was less careful than I probably should have been. I marched right over to the console and switched it off. The alien dropped to the floor of the stasis chamber in a heap. I used the force to try to move it to more of a sitting position, but the force slipped around it and I couldn't get a proper grasp or push. Instead of keeping my distance, I resorted to using my sheathed vibroblade to tip it over so it was lying on its back. As I did so, it let out a low groan and murmured something in a language that I didn't understand.
"Can you understand me?" I asked it in Basic. It didn't respond. I scowled and repeated myself, louder that time. It opened its eyes a crack and stared at me, then growled something in its guttural tongue.
"Can you understand me now?" I asked in Catharese. "Or do you speak this?" I said in broken Ryl.
"I speak the language of Tulak Hord's slaves," grunted the creature in stilted Catharese.
"Good; that'll make this easier," I said, glad my mother had taught me the language of our people when I was small.
"All the world conspires to mock me!" he lamented. I was pretty sure it was male. "Tulak Hord, I waited for you! I did everything you said, and this is what you send me?"
"Who are you?" I asked.
"I am Khem Val, servant of Tulak Hord, who is called Lord of Hate, Master of the Gathering Darkness, Dark Lord of the Sith." He spoke slowly, laboriously, his words slurring. His chest barely moved to breathe. He was clearly severely weakened by his years in stasis. "Together, Tulak Hord and I devoured our enemies at the battles of Yn and Chabosh and brought the entire Drummond system to its knees. And now I await his return."
"I hate to be the one to break it to you, but Tulak Hord is dead." My words were sympathetic, but my tone wasn't. I was growing impatient. I didn't want to risk Ffon arriving on the scene before I had the assassin's compliance. The creature bellowed something in his own language.
"Dead?!" he groaned. "My Lord, why did you not come for me? I would have died with you--no, I would have slain death itself..." Khem Val moaned again, making an odd chuffing sound that seemed to be his method of mourning.
"These were the instructions Lady Zash gave me," I interrupted. "I am to awaken you, and you are to take me to the map in the final chamber of Naga Sadow's tomb."
"You may have awakened me, but I do not answer to you," he growled at me. "You should not have come here, for I will devour you!" Khem Val lunged upward, surprisingly quick, but the force had whispered a warning to me. I darted back out of reach, drawing my vibroblade and readying my best counterattack, but he'd overestimated his strength. With a sharp exclamation that was undoubtedly a curse, he toppled over onto his face again. I laughed at him.
"Your defiance is foolish and misplaced," I warned.
"Why did you not come for me, Tulak?" moaned the creature into the floor. "Why have you allowed your servant to be reduced to this?"
"I am your master now, get used to it," I said. He subsided into silence. I wracked my brain. What was I to do now? How could I compel him to show me the map?
"Fine, little one," he said eventually. "In my great weakness, you have me at your mercy. I must serve you for a cycle, as that is the law that binds me. But then I shall devour you!" The force swirled around us, and I could sense the sincerity of his promise...and his threat. I wondered what system he was basing his 'cycle' off of and how long I had his compliance.
"Fine, whatever, let's go!" I said. He tried and failed to get to his feet.
"I require food," he said. "I hunger after my long sleep." He eyed me as though I might suddenly lose my mind and offer him my blood.
"I think that can be arranged," I said. After all, there were several other acolytes in the catacombs. With any luck, I'd run into Ffon!
