Given that his new apprentice and most of the mercenaries lacked adequate night vision, Amon elected to wait until the Twilight period passed before exploring further sites.
But over a month after plundering the resting place of Exar Kun, the Sorcerer decided to investigate a new Sith temple.
In particular, he sought to investigate a Temple miles to the South. According to the bound spirit of Kun, it was used as a site to create and store a number of intriguing artefacts.
The more he learned of the Sith Lord's talents as an Artificer, the more pleased the Sorcerer became with his choice to visit the Yavin system. The jungle moon was proving to be a treasure trove of knowledge and lore.
Having landed their shuttle in the closest available clearing, the duo made their way through the dense underbrush.
Since learning the Trayus style, the Astartes had taken every opportunity to practice, knowing it would only become viable in real combat once it became second nature, not needing conscious thought.
Thus, a trio of Blue and pair of Green lightsabers hacked their way through jungle growth as the pair advanced.
Beginning to near their target, Amon turned to the disgruntled zabrak. "We are almost there, you should probably take your lightsaber in hand."
Maul had begun his own study of the Trayus style under the instruction of Kell, and had been making progress. Until Amon took away the Red blade.
The ex-Sith just hadn't been able to bond as deeply with the Blue crystal, meaning his attempts to control it telekinetically were crude and clumsy. Mostly limited to launching the blade like a projectile and calling it back, with none of the fine control and manoeuvrability displayed by Amon.
"Yes yes, let's see how you can make this one more difficult than it needs to-" His eyes widened as he sensed danger through the Force. Pushing his cybernetic legs as hard as they could go, the zabrak flung himself aside as a wave of psychic force attempted to crush them both.
A narrow section of old growth forest was stripped down to bedrock by the unexpected attack. Ancient trees splintering under the force and thrown like wheat in a storm.
Maul searched the area with bated breath, looking for the source of the attack, for the first time noticing a powerful presence in the Force.
He paid no attention to the lack of Amon. The old Sorcerer was practically impossible to detect through the Force since learning from a Master Assassin and durable enough to be barely inconvenienced by that attack, even if it did hit him.
Maul knew he was here somewhere and would reveal himself when he chose. For now, the Apprentice Sorcerer was far more interested in locating the beacon of the Light Side he could feel near by.
Preferably before he was crushed with another attack like that.
"It is the Jedi way to defend, not attack. But for one such as you, I will make an exception."
Maul couldn't localise the voice; it seemed to be coming from every direction. The beacon of the Light Side seemed to saturate everything around them. Stealth by blinding your opponent with a floodlight.
Regardless, he didn't think the mysterious Jedi was speaking to him.
"This is the second time I have been attacked unprovoked by a Jedi. It is becoming irksome."
Maul constantly turned his head, trying to look in all directions, but couldn't find the source of Amon's voice either.
"Unprovoked you say? That may be so, from a certain point of view." The voice of the Jedi echoed from every direction. "But I am not that naive girl. The child has become jaded by the cruelty and malice she has seen. Now she is just grateful the cruelty and malice is not directed towards her."
Maul blinked at the odd turn in the conversation. Naive girl? Scylla?
"I have seen the horrors you have already committed and your lack of regard for the lives and souls of others."
Despite himself, Maul gave an incremental nod. He really couldn't argue with that assessment of Amon.
Suddenly there was Fire and maul instinctively raised his blade in defence while leaping away from the inferno. A section of the jungle being ignited in an instant.
With that, Amon was visible again and vines and branches around the Astartes became animated, reaching and grasping, seeking to bind and restrain.
At the same time, a speeder-sized boulder tore itself free of the earth and was accelerated forwards to crush the Space Marine.
A swirl of Blue and Green danced around the Sorcerer, cutting free the impediments, while Amon brought down his staff, channelling sorcerous energies through the psy-focus, he delivered a strike worthy of a Thunderhammer, shattering the boulder into thousands of pieces.
The dust hadn't begun to clear when the dancing lights of Blue and Green paused in their movements, then suddenly began to attack one another.
Maul observed warily in confusion, wondering if Amon was now duelling himself.
Seemingly in answer to his silent question, the Jedi spoke again. "Hmm, commonly associated with the Light Side. Unexpected that one such as you could bond with the weapons of a Jedi."
Blue and Green blades continued to clash, even as Amon began to launch roiling, caustic bolts of energy from his Staff, while raking the jungle with his laspistol.
"But you couldn't bond as closely with the Green blades. It is long since I wielded a lightsaber, but I was blessed with a skilled teacher."
One of the Green blades was intercepted by a Blue, only for it to waiver and fade like a mirage.
In the same instant, a glowing rent was torn across the pauldron of Amon's power armour, narrowly deflected from his helmet.
The Space Marine gave a near-bestial growl. Apparently his olive branch with the Jedi hadn't worked. With this one, at least.
From the sound of things, the annoyance had engaged in some telepathic espionage and learned everything Scylla knew.
But why attack now? Here? And seemingly alone?
The Jedi was clearly strong in the Force, but seemed limited in offensive options. Attacking from stealth, with whatever was available, it stank of desperation. It felt like the Jedi was making a last stand.
He blocked one of the Green lightsabers with the bladed horn of his Staff, then lashed out with his free hand, catching the hilt and crushing it in his grip.
The broken weapon sputtered briefly and unleashed an uncontained fountain of plasma for a second, before shutting down completely.
While the Astartes handled the last of the turncoat lightsabers, Maul struggled to contain his building fury. He was a warrior, not a spectator!
How dare the Jedi ignore him like this!
But he didn't fall into his rage. He remembered Amon's instructions and began to speak. To incant words close to his heart.
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken."
He felt the Blue crystal within his lightsaber pulsating in time with his own heartbeat. The power of the Warp flowing around and through him. Holding the blade high above his head, like a lightening rod, calling down the fury of nature.
"The Force shall set me Free!"
And suddenly the half-burned, half-uprooted patch of jungle was engulfed in an unnatural lightening storm. Maul threw out his arms as elemental fury arced through the air, causing trees to explode as the water within was flash boiled.
Amon had destroyed the last Green lightsaber and was searching for his foe. He ignored the electrical discharge unleashed by Maul, arcane script on his armour hissing and leaking fat neon sparks as they shielded against the warpcraft playing over them.
His witchsight remained blinded by the glare of his opponent, but his more mundane senses remained functional. He had hoped the Jedi would be less adept at shielding against his Autosensors, but it was not so.
In the end, it was smell that gave him away.
The smell of singed fur. Amon had taken specimens of the local fauna for study and did not recognise this scent.
It may have been nothing. Just a native animal he hadn't encountered yet.
But it wasn't.
The Space Marine channelled the power of the Warp through his flesh, invigorating and empowering. Driving his engineered biology to new heights.
He moved. It was only through manipulating his own gravity and some telekinetic assistance a biped like himself could move so fast, no matter how quickly he could move his limbs.
He moved quickly enough to outrace a lightning bolt, bringing his Staff around to bisect his unseen opponent-
Movement at his feet. A buildup of psychic force.
-only to make contact with nothing but air.
A wave of force - like the first attack that uprooted so many trees - struck him like the fist of a Terminator.
But even as he flew through the air, he'd confirmed the location of the Jedi. Channelling his will and drawing upon the power of the Immaterium, the three Blue lightsabers exploded as they overchannelled elemental fury.
The largest lightning bolt Amon could manage struck out at his foe. The world being cast in silhouette, as the blinding white of the lightning turned the midday sky black.
--o-O-o--
With short pained breaths, Jedi Master Ikrit felt his end grow near. He did not fear death, for death comes to all. But the small wounded kushiban shed a tear for his charges.
He feared their souls would never become one with the Force. An infinitely crueler fate awaiting them.
He could barely turn his head, his body horribly burned by the final lightning strike, but could just see the Apprentice with his peripheral vision.
The zabrak stumbled forward on unsteady legs, cybernetics groaning in protest and giving off the occasional electrical discharge.
The ex-Sith had removed his helmet and looked upon the small Jedi with a truly murderous expression.
"Jedi!"
He spat the single word as the most vile insult, before igniting his lightsaber and bringing it down.
--o-O-o--
Grandmaster Yoda startled from his meditative state, leaping to his feet in alarm. Moving far more spritely than a being over a thousand years old should be able.
After a moments pause, his pointed ears drooped and the old Jedi realised he would not see his old friend again.
--o-O-o--
Amon stood in damaged armour before a radiant Golden Orb, the Artefact a truly magnificent piece of craftsmanship by Exar Kun.
Magnificent, and equally abhorrent. The Sorcerer could hear the souls of the thousands of children within.
Clearly, this is what the Jedi sought to defend, and the Space Marine couldn't shake the idea that he should be offended.
The small Jedi had seen his actions through the eyes of his servant and believed him a threat to the souls of the innocent. He had been so sure of it, that he'd disregarded diplomacy and resorted to a desperate attack, knowing he would likely die.
But had he not limited his predations to the dregs of society? Outlaws and scum, who themselves preyed upon others.
'Come here Scylla.' The small xeno obeyed without question. She looked slightly confused when he placed a hand upon her head. 'Sleep.'
Except for Scylla.
She had chosen to serve him, and the parts of his psyche inherited from his Father had seen her sacrifice as a betrayal. That was the only thing that stayed his hand.
Amon thought about that day, only a few months ago. Thought of his reasoning at the time. Instant gratification. There was something he wanted and the idea of delaying simply hadn't occurred to him in the moment.
Chaos did not practice delayed gratification. They could be terribly patient when needed, but only because the patience was needed to get what they wanted. They could take things slowly and savour an experience, but that itself was their gratification.
As he thought of his time in this galaxy, the Space Marine realised he'd done nothing without a selfish motivation.
At every step, he had taken what he wanted from whoever possessed it at the time.
Apparently, the Jedi thought he would take the souls of children too.
Would he?
It was true, he held little empathy for the xenos. But the souls of the innocent held a special delight for the followers of Chaos. He would have refrained for that reason alone.
Probably. If anything beyond instant gratification had occurred to him.
"Bah!" He paced around the chamber in frustration.
Chaos was self-centred and selfish. Fools turned to Chaos for greater power, or knowledge. Or to satisfy their hedonism and lust. Or just through the fear of their own mortality.
Intentionally or not, the Jedi had pointed out how well that mirrored his own life here.
"I thought I was free! The Oracles are dead and gone and I am forever beyond the reach of Thirsting Gods!"
But one does not simply cut themselves free of their upbringing. For almost a hundred years, he'd been forced to live as one of them. No matter how much he hated it.
No matter how much he hated himself for enjoying it.
It was considered a truism that all renegade Astartes would eventually fall to Chaos. Those who broke away from the Imperium and their Brotherhood and struck out on their own. Without the bonds of duty and service, to pursue their own ambitions.
Chaos was always there, self-centred and selfish, waiting to seduce and corrupt.
And here he was, the Bastard Son of Sanguinius, living a self-centred life, with few interests beyond his own wants and needs.
And even if the Thirsting Gods weren't here, Amon still carried their lessons with him. The marks of his upbringing remain.
Turning away and putting aside his rambling thoughts for now, the Space Marine exited the old temple. "R7-B3, ready the shuttle for takeoff. We'll return to camp for now."
The battle with the Jedi had created a small clearing in the jungle canopy, enough to bring the shuttle closer. Maul was currently there, with his damaged legs, waiting for Amon to decide it was time to go back, so he could get some repairs and maintenance done.
The Sorcerer would think on matters further. Later.
--o-O-o--
Jedi Master Fay sat in an isolated corner of the space port, meditating upon the Force. She wasn't sure what had drawn her to the planet Socorro, but trusted the Force would reveal all in time. She had picked the ship that brought her here purely by following her feelings, so had known nothing of the place in advance. After arriving, she'd learned what she could by accessing what passed for the local holonet. And now, she sought information via most esoteric means.
Divining knowledge through the Force in this way wouldn't grant specifics, but could give the old Jedi an understanding of the nature of this world. She could feel the collective unconsciousness of the population, and knew their fears and hopes as a whole. She could feel the societal norms of this world, the things everyone here considered the status quo. The established order of things, how people thought things should be, and how most of the population wanted things to be.
The old woman let out a slightly-mournful sigh. This world was depressingly normal in her experience.
Far too many people on this world were in a constant state of fear and regret, living in a state of exploitation and violation. While so many more either held apathy towards such matters, or avarice, lust and cruelty. Another world where slavery is just a fact of life.
Rising from her meditative pose, she looked out over the city with a sense of hope in her heart. "When you encounter great injustice, rejoice. For when you are done, the galaxy will be a slightly brighter place."
Setting forth into the city of Vakeyya, the Jedi had hearts and minds to direct. In the modern age, slavers existed at the expense of society as a whole. While the practice could be highly profitable for an individual, the greater economy would only suffer from the inefficient methods. It was generally simple enough to nudge people in the direction of enlightened self interest. It may take a few years, but this would hardly be the first world where she'd fostered lasting cultural change.
However, there was one corner of the economy where slavery was legitimately profitable without other sectors baring the expense. The pleasure trade. But while she did not carry a weapon, Fay was not a pacifist. A few years of persuasion and a few applications of force could generally engineer reforms in the pleasure industry too.
Of course, she didn't think the Force had directed her to Socorro for this reason, but all would be revealed in time. So she may as well spend her wait productively.
--o-O-o--
"I say the waypoint near Taris. It's a backwater to the Republic, but it's still a city planet. A thousand ships go in and out every hour."
"Nah, there's no major route to Taris. Ships come off the Hydian Way wherever they feel like, then make smaller jumps to the system. If we pick an ambush spot, we might get lucky, or we might wait weeks before anything comes by."
"Okay, how about the Vallusk Cluster? There's, what, five different routes need to drop out and re-calibrate there, because of all the protostars."
"Yeah, but that means everyone knows passing through the cluster is a risk. Half the ships travelling through will be in merchant convoys. With escorts."
"Yeah, and half won't. There's always someone who can't afford the merc fees, or thinks pirates will never happen to them. We just need to wait for the right target."
Most civilians would be surprised just how democratic pirate ships tended to be. But if one considered how belligerent and anti-authoritarian pirates tended to act, it would make far more sense. A good captain knew when to give orders and take no descent. But a good captain also knew when not to give orders.
When they were on the job and there was a chance of blaster fire happening, Captain Tiron would kill any man that refused to follow orders, and his entire crew knew it. The rest of the time, he was happy to let them voice their ideas and the crew could all vote on which one they liked the best.
"Okay, we have our options." Tiron decided to just call the vote now before it dragged on. "Everyone who wants to stake out a waypoint near Taris, raise a hand." He counted less than half, but some might abstain, so he called out the next option. "And all in favour of the Vallusk Cluster, raise your hand."
E̛̛͈̣͙͚͖͍̩͓̓̌͋͐͘͡ͅv̶̢̢̺͇̞̟̼̫̄̒͐̊̔̉̇̀͜͟͡ȩ̶̦̘̠͕̝̮̎̈́̀̋̉̉̑̋r̬̗͍̳͚̬͈͈̃̽͛́͠͠͞y̜͙̫̱̰̩̮̓́͌̚̕͘͢͞͡ h̦̠͓̻̺̞͋̏̌́͂͆̈́ͅa͖͖̰̘̥͗̂́͌͞n̷͇̻̞̰̱̹̭̮͈̘̈́̓̋́͒̕d̦̰̞̘̜͛̑͌́͂́͠ͅ t̴̢̡̫̲̯̼͔̞̗͛̎́̄́͘͟h̢͚̭̟̤̑̑̂̀̑̒͛̍͝ͅa̷̟̤̘̭͎̮̐́̽͑̕͢t̴͕̣̮̞͕̹̲̰̞̔̒̓̾̀̅͛̚͢ d̷̡̧̠̘͔͔͐́̂̎̒̔͊̀̍͠i̶̤͎̖̤͚͈̝̼̗̔͋̇͐̚d̶̬͉̤̻̯͖̯̖͇͍͐̈́͘͡͞͠ņ̖͔̯̤̫͑̇́̽͛̈́͐͞'̵̢̝͓̞͕̣̟̔̅͗̇͑͞͝t͖̥͎̽̔́̿͒͑̾̇̈́͢͝ͅ v͍̞̰̺̮̤̟͉̇̉̒̍̂͐͢͠o̸̧̱͓̦͚̮̒̓͊̚͢͠ţ̨̺̤͖̞͚̮̞̪̉͂̉͂͘͡ȩ̴̢̹̘̞̱̟̀͗̀̑̈̄̐͛̓͜͠ f̠͔̭̖̜͍͔̿̈́͊̈́̒́̍̚͟o̸̱̮͇̠̱͕̘̳̍͐̐̓̓̈́͟ͅr̴͚̯̤͎͍̲͉̍̔̉̆͐͗̓̃͟͞ T̴̨̢͙̮̣̩͙̂̉̈́̀̈ḁ̶̧͎̫̯̮͈̫̼͋̐̾͊̌̂͐̍͡͞ͅr̛͔̟̳̲̣̺̤̠̬̞̉̀͆̕į̷̧͔̦̞̌̒̆̓͂͗̕͘s͓̟̪͚͓̦̆̔͒̆͡ r̲̗̟̠̜̥̬̻̘̎̔̓̎̽̇̕͡ͅo͚̭̯͎̖̘̓͛̆͘͞s̷̯͚͇̬͙͑̃̍̐͒̈̎͝͠e̷̛̬̤͈̙̫͖͕̘̦͑̉̐̊̓̃ u̮̻̪͈̝̰͆͂̋̔̽̑͛̔̑̎p̷̤͉̖͓͚͉̥̈̈́̋͐̋̈́̎̎͜͜͢͞͝.̸̡̨̣̻̱̯̦͑͑̉̀́̾͂͠
"Well, guess we're going to the Vallusk Cluster. Right, everyone back to their own ships and undock. Move it you scum!"
As all the pirates returned to their own ships, the small fleet reoriented and set course for the Cluster. The three up-armed freighters jumping to hyperspace one after the other.
--o-O-o--
Amon went through final checks as the ship readied for takeoff. He and a number of his men would be returning to Nar Shaddaa, to both sell some of the treasure looted from Yavin, and to continue their pirate hunting missions. After all, his fleet wasn't going to build-
The Angel of Death paused in what he was doing as he felt probability shift around him in odd ways.
He thought he'd felt something before, when in Kun's tomb, but there was enough warpcraft being thrown around that he couldn't be sure. But he'd spent most of a century with the Oracles of Change and knew Fate Manipulation when he felt it.
"Scylla, R7, continue the checks without me."
"Huh, oh, yes master." The blue girl agreed without complaint, even as she wondered why he'd suddenly stopped and got up like that.
Heading towards his lab, the Sorcerer had some divinations to perform. He didn't know who was attempting to manipulate him, but if they tried again, he would find them.
In the meantime, he didn't know what had been changed, but he would be ready for it.