X-Men: The Unnatural Omega's Volume 4; Endgames
Chapter 29: The Nature of Those That Are Grey
…
The standard issue transport sped through the vast expanse of space, its engines humming with urgency. Flanking it were several guild ships, each bearing the insignia of various mercenary and bounty hunter guilds. This was a multi-coordinated effort, and every vessel represented a powerful faction vying for a stake in the unfolding mystery. The news of a mysterious Sith from the ancient Sith race, found in suspended animation, had spread like wildfire among the guilds. Powerful individuals and organizations were determined to reach the Sith first.
Inside the transport, Ahsoka Tano, Din Djarin (Mando), and Bo-Katan Kryze pored over the data they had extracted from Eleven, the advanced droid. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of their mission pressing down on everyone present.
"This data indicates that he existed from a time before the Sith Empire," Ahsoka said, her brow furrowed as she scrolled through the holographic display. "Long before the Sith went to war with the Jedi. If this information is accurate, this guy is really old—many thousands of years old."
Mando leaned in, his helmet reflecting the blue glow of the hologram. "How did he end up in suspended animation? And why was he kept hidden for so long?"
Bo-Katan, who had been quietly analyzing the data, looked up. "The records are sparse, but it seems he was a scientist, not a warrior. His focus was on preservation and knowledge, not conquest. That might explain why he wasn't involved in the conflicts that followed."
Ahsoka nodded, her mind racing with possibilities. "If he predates the Sith Empire, his knowledge could be invaluable. But it also means he's an unknown factor. We need to be careful."
In the rear of the transport, Boba Fett stood with a few of his trusted guards, their presence a testament to the delicate nature of this operation. The bounty hunter's face was unreadable behind his helmet, but his posture radiated readiness and caution.
"We're not the only ones racing to this location," Boba Fett said, breaking the silence. "Other guilds and mercenary organizations are on the move. They want to stake their claim on this individual, and they won't be gentle about it."
Mando glanced back at him, appreciating the gravity of the situation. "That's why we need to get there first and secure the site. We can't let this fall into the wrong hands."
As the transport hurtled through space, the tension among the crew grew. Every second counted, and the stakes were higher than ever.
Bo-Katan checked her weapons, her expression determined. "We need to be ready for anything. If this Sith is as ancient as the data suggests, we have no idea what we're walking into."
Ahsoka nodded in agreement. "We need to be prepared to face both the unknown and the competing forces. Let's go over the plan one more time."
As they discussed their strategy, the stars outside the viewport streaked past, a reminder of the relentless pace of their journey. The transport, accompanied by the guild ships, was a small but determined force in the vastness of space.
"We're approaching the coordinates," the pilot announced over the intercom, his voice steady despite the pressure.
The group braced themselves, checking their gear and preparing for the imminent arrival. Ahsoka took a deep breath, her mind focused on the task ahead.
"We need to move quickly and secure the site," she said, her voice firm. "No mistakes. Let's do this."
…
The transport descended through the planet's atmosphere, its thrusters humming softly. The world below was barren and desolate, a stark contrast to the usually vibrant worlds they had visited before. It made sense, though. According to the data, the ancient Sith scientist Varloc Tanis had chosen a remote and forgotten world to hide his technologies—a place where no one would think to look until the time was right.
As they broke through the thick fog, the landscape came into view. It was a vast expanse of rocks, crevices, and a few scattered bodies of water. A seemingly lifeless world, its surface marred by time and erosion. The coordinates led them to a range of mountains in the distance, where a faint glimmer of structures caught their attention.
"There's a dig site near that mountain range," Bo-Katan said, pointing towards the barely visible facilities. "That must be where we need to go."
The transport landed softly on a flat patch of rock, and the group disembarked, accompanied by several guild members and Boba Fett's trusted guards. The air was thick with tension and the scent of damp stone.
Ahsoka, Din Djarin, Bo-Katan, Boba Fett, Eleven (D-11), and Carlos, the former Imperial astromech droid now painted in vibrant colors, gathered their gear and prepared for the trek.
"Let's keep a low profile," Ahsoka instructed. "The fog should give us some cover, but we need to stay alert."
They moved cautiously towards the dig site, the rocky terrain slowing their progress. The journey took about twenty-eight minutes, each step bringing them closer to the ancient facility. The fog clung to them like a shroud, muffling their footsteps and concealing their presence.
As they neared the outskirts of the facility, they spotted a group of guards in old Imperial armor, their movements sluggish and inattentive. The armor was outdated, a relic from a bygone era.
"We need to get past them," Din whispered, his visor reflecting the dim light. "But we can't afford to make a scene."
Eleven stepped forward, raising a hand. Using the Force with subtle precision, he manipulated the air around the guards, causing them to collapse into unconsciousness.
"…"
"That was easier than I thought," Bo-Katan remarked, a hint of relief in her voice.
They quickly dragged the unconscious guards around a corner, hiding them behind a large boulder. With the immediate threat neutralized, they had a clear path into the facility.
Carlos beeped excitedly, extending a data spike and interfacing with a nearby control panel. Eleven joined him, their combined efforts quickly hacking into the facility's security system. The screens in the security room began to display false feeds, ensuring their infiltration remained unnoticed.
"We're in," Eleven confirmed. "The security room is now showing a looped feed. We should be clear to proceed."
The group moved silently through the corridors, their senses heightened as they navigated the ancient facility. The air was cool and stale, carrying the scent of dust and old machinery. Dim lights flickered sporadically, casting eerie shadows along the walls.
Ahsoka led the way, her lightsaber ready but unlit. "Stay close and stay quiet," she whispered. "We don't know what else might be down here."
The facility was massive, a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers. As they delved deeper, the walls began to show signs of ancient Sith architecture—elegant yet foreboding, with intricate carvings and symbols that hinted at the knowledge and power contained within.
Ahsoka examined the door, tracing her fingers over the ancient script. "These symbols... they look like Sith, but they're different. Older."
Bo-Katan nodded. "This script predates most of what we've seen. It's likely from a time before the Jedi encountered the Sith."
Din Djarin tilted his head, observing the glyphs. "So, how do we get through?"
Ahsoka frowned, her eyes scanning the inscriptions. "We need to decipher these glyphs to unlock the door, but I'm not familiar with all of these symbols."
Eleven and Carlos moved forward, their sensors analyzing the script. The droid's eyes flickered as he processed the information. "It appears to be a riddle," Eleven said. "A series of symbols that must be arranged in a specific order to unlock the barrier."
Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. "A riddle? From the Sith? That's unexpected."
Carlos beeped in agreement, projecting a holographic display of the glyphs. The ancient script began to shimmer, revealing the riddle:
"To walk the path where shadows blend, To seek the truth where lies extend. A choice must be made, and not in haste, For wisdom found will time not waste. In darkness deep, or light's embrace, The answer lies within the space. A moral choice, not black nor white, In gray, the key to set things right."
The group fell silent, contemplating the riddle. Ahsoka shook her head. "The Sith I knew didn't deal in riddles like this. This is... different."
Eleven's optical sensors flickered. "The riddle speaks of moral choices, a balance between light and dark. It suggests that the key lies in understanding the gray areas of existence."
Carlos beeped thoughtfully, his manipulator arm hovering over the glyphs. "Moral choices," he echoed, arranging the glyphs to match the answer. As the final glyph clicked into place, the massive stone doorway began to rumble and shift.
With a loud, grinding noise, the door slowly slid open, revealing the ancient temple beyond. The group exchanged glances, the significance of the riddle and its answer sinking in.
The group proceeded cautiously down the ancient hallways, their footsteps echoing softly in the vast, silent space. The walls were lined with artifacts and relics, each emanating a unique aura. These artifacts were neither purely Sith nor entirely Jedi in design; they seemed to operate in a grey area, embodying a balance that was both intriguing and unsettling.
"These artifacts," Bo-Katan said, examining a particularly ornate piece, "they don't fit into the usual categories. They're somewhere in-between."
Ahsoka nodded, her senses attuned to the subtle energies radiating from the relics. "They're balanced, neither fully dark nor light. It's a reflection of the ancient Sith philosophy before their divergence into darkness."
As they moved deeper into the facility, the corridors opened into a large, dimly lit chamber. At the center stood an ancient stone sarcophagus pod, intricately carved with symbols and glyphs that spoke of a long-forgotten era.
Din Djarin (Mando) activated his comms, coordinating with his allies over encrypted channels. "Mando to all units, we've reached the central chamber. Secure the perimeter and maintain a low profile. The facility is ours, but stay alert."
The responses came through, confirming that their teams had managed to lock down the dig site. With the security deactivated, the former Imperials had been caught off guard and subdued before they realized they were being infiltrated.
"We've secured the facility," one of Mando's allies reported. "No resistance left. We're in control."
"Good," Mando replied. "Hold your positions and keep the area secure. We're about to uncover the main objective."
Ahsoka approached the sarcophagus pod, her Force sensitivity heightened. Even in its dormant state, she could feel a presence within—something unexpected and profound. Eleven (D-11) stood beside her, his sensors picking up the same sensation.
"There's something here," Ahsoka said quietly. "Something... different."
Eleven's optical sensors flickered as he processed the sensation. "I feel it too. A profound sadness, a weariness of the world outside. It's as if he's content with just dreaming forever."
Ahsoka frowned, her mind racing with the implications. "I've encountered many Sith, but never anything like this. He's... peaceful in a way, despite his power."
Boba Fett and his guards took up positions around the chamber, their weapons ready but relaxed. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as the group prepared to uncover the secrets within the ancient pod.
With a deep breath, Ahsoka reached out with the Force, gently probing the mechanisms that held the sarcophagus closed. As she did, the carvings began to glow softly, responding to her touch. The ancient mechanisms clicked and whirred, and slowly, the lid of the sarcophagus began to lift.
Inside lay Varloc Tanis, the ancient Sith scientist. His features were serene, almost peaceful, a stark contrast to the images of Sith lords that history had painted. His presence, even in a dream state, radiated a deep melancholy and a weariness that spoke of centuries of existence.
Ahsoka and Eleven exchanged glances, both feeling the weight of his emotions. "He's been here for so long," Ahsoka murmured. "Separated from the world, content to dream. What happened to him?"
As they pondered the question, the reality of their discovery began to sink in. This ancient Sith, far from the malevolent figures they had expected, was a being of profound complexity and depth. His story, once uncovered, could change their understanding of the Force and the history of the Sith forever.
"We need to be careful," Bo-Katan said, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and caution. "The Sith don't exactly have a good reputation. Whatever we uncover here, it will have far-reaching consequences."
Ahsoka nodded, her resolve strengthened. "Let's proceed. We need to understand his story, and decide our next move."
"But first thing's first. Let's make sure he's able to wake up after so long in suspended animation."
…
About ten minutes later as the ancient mechanisms of the sarcophagus completed their sequence, the lid finally slid open with a soft hiss. A moment of silence passed before the ancient Sith began to stir. His movements were slow and groggy, as if he were emerging from a long, deep sleep. His eyes, ancient and weary, opened gradually, adjusting to the dim light of the chamber.
The ancient Sith identified simply as Varloc Tanis by the designation on the ancient Sith markings, and his gaze immediately fell upon the group surrounding him, his expression one of confusion and hesitation. He sat up slowly, his body language cautious yet non-threatening. His voice, though weak, carried the weight of centuries as he spoke in the ancient dialect of the Sith race. "Mu ni kos hir?" he asked, his tone filled with uncertainty.
Eleven and Carlos immediately began translating, their advanced systems processing the ancient language. "He's asking, 'How long has it been?'"
Ahsoka stepped forward, her expression gentle and reassuring. "You have been in stasis for many tens of thousands of years. We are here to help you."
Eleven and Carlos translated Ahsoka's words into the ancient Sith dialect, ensuring Varloc understood. His eyes widened slightly, absorbing the information. He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Ahsoka, a Force-wielder of the light side—something he had only heard about in ancient stories.
"Who are you?" he asked, still speaking in his native tongue. "And what is the state of the facility?"
Eleven translated, and Ahsoka replied with calm assurance. "My name is Ahsoka Tano. We found you in this facility, which has been hidden away for millennia. We seek to understand your story and the knowledge you possess."
As Eleven and Carlos conveyed her message, Varloc nodded slowly, his mind processing the surreal situation. "I have heard tales of Force wielders who follow the light side, but I have never seen one. I thought they were myths."
Ahsoka smiled gently. "We are real, and we seek balance and understanding. We are not here to harm you."
The translation echoed in the chamber, and Varloc's shoulders relaxed slightly. He seemed to accept their presence, though his confusion remained. "I am Varloc Tanis, a scientist. My work was to understand the Force and its applications, not for war, but for preservation and healing."
Eleven translated Varloc's introduction, and Ahsoka's respect for the ancient Sith grew. "We are here to learn from you, Varloc. Your knowledge could be invaluable."
Varloc nodded, still trying to make sense of the new world around him. "The world outside... what has become of it?"
Din Djarin stepped forward, his voice steady. "Much has changed. The Sith and Jedi have fought many wars, but there are still those who seek knowledge and peace."
Carlos translated, and Varloc sighed, a deep sadness reflected in his eyes. "So much time has passed. I had hoped my work would lead to a better understanding, not more conflict."
Ahsoka felt a pang of empathy for the ancient scientist. "We can continue your work, Varloc. Together, we can seek the balance and understanding that you desire."
With the translations complete, Varloc looked at each of them with a mixture of hope and caution. "I will help you," he said, his voice clear. "But we must be careful. The knowledge I possess is powerful, and it must be used wisely."
The group nodded in agreement, understanding the gravity of his words.
For better or worse now… He was stuck in an unfamiliar time.
…
Several hours had passed since they had awakened Varloc Tanis from his ancient slumber. The group had coordinated with their allies to establish a secure perimeter around the dig site and the facility, ensuring that no unwanted entities could breach their defenses. Varloc had been equipped with a translator, an invaluable tool that allowed him to communicate with others without the constant assistance of droids.
The team was diligently documenting the artifacts and ruins they encountered, cataloging each item with precision. Their goal was clear: to preserve and protect these ancient relics from falling into the hands of more malicious characters in the galaxy.
Varloc, now somewhat more accustomed to the situation, took a moment to wander through the chambers of the facility. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions and memories. He paused in front of a large, intricately designed container—a jar that held immense personal significance. Inside were the remains of his wife and children, who had succumbed to a devastating sickness that had plagued his tribe. Despite discovering a cure, it had come too late for his family.
Recognizing the deep significance of the moment, Ahsoka and the others respectfully gave him space in the chamber. They continued their work, ensuring he had the privacy he needed to process the changed galaxy he now found himself in.
Varloc knelt before the container, his hand gently resting on its cool surface. He closed his eyes, memories of his family flooding back. The laughter of his children, the warmth of his wife's embrace—it all felt so close yet so achingly distant.
Ahsoka watched from a distance, her heart heavy with empathy. She understood loss, and she respected the depth of Varloc's grief. She signaled to the others to give him the time he needed.
Varloc whispered softly in his ancient language, a prayer or perhaps a farewell, his voice tinged with sorrow and reverence. He stayed there for a while, drawing strength from the connection to his past and his loved ones.
After a time, he rose, his expression composed but resolute. He approached Ahsoka and the others, who had been quietly continuing their work.
"Thank you," Varloc said, his voice steady but soft. "For giving me this moment. It means more than you know."
Ahsoka nodded, her eyes reflecting understanding and compassion. "We understand, Varloc. Take all the time you need."
He looked around the chamber, taking in the artifacts and the history they represented. "This place... it is a link to the past long gone, to a people that are long gone, but also a bridge to the future. We must protect it."
"We will," Din Djarin affirmed, "We'll ensure that everything here is documented and secured. No one will misuse what we've found."
Varloc nodded, a sense of purpose settling over him. "There is much to do, and much to learn. Let's continue."
As the day turned to evening, the facility was alive with the hum of activity. Guards patrolled the perimeter, ensuring the site remained secure, while inside, the team meticulously recorded every detail of their findings. Varloc, now a part of this new world, felt himself reflection on a world, a universe that had long since moved on without him.
And the legacy of his people… From what he heard it wasn't pleasant.
…
The next day, the team gathered to discuss their next steps. They couldn't just leave Varloc in the facility, and given the Sith's reputation—especially after Palpatine and the Clone Wars—finding a suitable place for him was crucial.
"We need to move him somewhere safe," Ahsoka said, her voice steady. "A place where he can learn about the current state of the galaxy and where we can ensure his knowledge isn't misused."
Bo-Katan nodded. "The Central Rim might be a good option. It's far enough from the core worlds to avoid immediate scrutiny, but still developed enough for him to acclimate."
Mando agreed. "There's a planet in the Central Rim, Onderon. It has a rich history and a mix of cultures. It's also got extensive natural reserves, which might interest him."
With the decision made, they prepared to transport Varloc to Onderon. The journey was smooth, with the transport ship slipping through hyperspace towards their destination. During the trip, Varloc remained quiet, absorbing the vast changes in the galaxy.
Upon arriving at Onderon, they decided to settle Varloc in a secluded area near the capital, Iziz. The planet's mix of urban and natural environments provided a perfect balance for him to explore and reflect.
As they were setting up his new quarters, Varloc noticed a few flowers growing in a nearby garden. He paused, his eyes widening with recognition.
"These flowers…" Varloc began, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity. "I remember seeing them on the peak of the Umate on Coruscant. Our early expeditions in space travel found them growing on trees that lined the mountain ranges."
Ahsoka and the others exchanged surprised glances. "No one knows what the greenery on Coruscant was like," she said. "The planet's industrialization left no records of its natural state."
Varloc nodded, a small smile on his face. "These flowers were catalogued by our scientific facilities. They were common, mundane even, but seeing them here brings back memories of a time long past."
The dignitaries and scholars present were taken aback. Varloc's casual mention of the flowers provided a glimpse into a Coruscant that no one had ever known. The planet, now a sprawling city-world, had once been home to vibrant natural beauty.
"This information is invaluable," one of the scholars said, the shock evident in his voice. "It adds a whole new dimension to our understanding of Coruscant's history."
Varloc's revelation underscored the depth of knowledge he possessed, knowledge that could reshape their understanding of the galaxy's past. As they continued to explore Onderon and document their findings, they realized the immense potential of having Varloc as an ally and a teacher.
…
Over the next two days, Varloc Tanis meticulously described each artifact they had uncovered in the ancient Sith research facility. His detailed explanations provided invaluable context, revealing the significance and purpose of each item. Many artifacts were from various tribes of Sith that had existed on Varloc's home planet, showing a complex and rich cultural tapestry.
Varloc explained that his tribe, along with some neighboring tribes, had formed alliances to ensure the safety of their people. Their leaders were weary of the constant wars that plagued their society, and they sought a more peaceful coexistence.
The artifacts Depicting Force Mastery and Balance that were headed for Yavin 4 included.
Meditation Crystals: Used by ancient Sith to focus and balance their connection to the Force which wasn't just limited to the dark side or the light side but somewhere in-between.
Balance Stones: Carved with intricate symbols, these stones were used in rituals to maintain harmony between light and dark.
Force Training Manuals: Scrolls and tablets that detailed techniques for mastering both light and dark aspects of the Force while still maintaining the grey area.
Heroic Dolls and Toys: Figurines of ancient Sith heroes and patrons who contributed to the society's balance, illustrating the cultural emphasis on balance with their laws.
Ahsoka ensured that these artifacts would be studied by Jedi scholars, who would appreciate the ancient Sith's approach to balancing light and dark aspects of the Force.
The scientific Artifacts that were headed for an Alderaan Research Facility.
Healing Artifacts: Devices and tools used for medical purposes, showing advanced understanding of biology and the Force's healing properties.
Stasis Containers: Advanced technology used to preserve organic materials, including Varloc's personal container holding his family's remains.
Botanical Catalogs: Detailed records of flora, including the flowers Varloc recognized from early space expeditions.
Ancient Technologies: Tools and devices that depict the scientific advancements of the Sith, such as early space travel instruments and energy harnessing equipment.
The scientific artifacts were transported to Alderaan's newly established research facility. This location was selected for its advanced technological capabilities and dedication to preserving historical artifacts.
Varloc's knowledge proved invaluable in cataloging these items, ensuring that the Sith's scientific advancements were properly documented and studied.
Texts and Scrolls on Daily Life and Historical Interactions were headed towards Ahch-To were as follows.
Day-to-Day Life Texts: Manuscripts and scrolls detailing the daily lives of the Sith, their customs, and social structures.
Historical Records: Documents chronicling interactions between different Sith tribes and other races, depicting alliances, conflicts, and cultural exchanges.
Religious Artifacts: Items and texts related to the various gods and religious practices of the Sith, providing insight into their spiritual beliefs.
The ancient texts and scrolls depicting day-to-day life and historical interactions were sent to Ahch-To. This secluded location, known for its ancient Jedi origins, was ideal for the preservation and study of these documents.
Several scholars and historians, who had chosen to live in seclusion, would oversee the maintenance and preservation of these texts, ensuring they were kept safe for future generations.
…
Elsewhere on Tatooine…
Boba Fett sat in his palace on Tatooine, overseeing the growth and development of his settlements. The former Imperial remnants were thriving in their new roles, and Tatooine was steadily becoming a trading hub for the galaxy. The former Imperial droids had taken on tasks as teachers, medical operators, and miners, overseeing operations too dangerous for most beings.
As Boba Fett reviewed the latest reports, one of his aides approached him with a message. "Someone is outside the palace, claiming he has a job for several bounty hunters. He wishes to relay it to you personally."
Boba Fett nodded, intrigued. "Send him in."
The palace doors creaked open, and the mysterious stranger stepped inside. His presence immediately filled the room with an unsettling vibe. Covered in completely black, plant-like wooden armor, he looked like a knight made of tree bark. His face was partially obscured by a hood, and his eyes glowed faintly with an eerie light. The armor had intricate carvings and natural patterns, giving him an otherworldly appearance.
Boba Fett, despite his vast experience and steely demeanor, felt a shiver run down his spine. There was something profoundly unsettling about this stranger that he couldn't quite place.
The stranger spoke, his voice deep and resonant. "I have a job that requires the skills of your bounty hunters. It is a matter of great importance, and I wish to discuss it with you."
Boba Fett leaned forward, studying the stranger intently. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
The stranger's glowing eyes met Boba Fett's. "My name is not important. What matters is the task at hand. There is an artifact of immense power that has resurfaced. Its location has been discovered, and I need your best hunters to retrieve it."
Boba Fett raised an eyebrow behind his helmet. "And why should I trust you?"
The stranger stared eerily at Boba Fett for a moment. His faceless wooden visage, save for the glowing eyes, created an unsettling effect. Then, he tilted his head slightly, and in that one moment, Boba Fett's mind was flooded with a torrent of horrific images.
Within a single second in real time, Boba Fett saw the galaxies' lights being snuffed out. Stars died, worlds blew up, and the very dead themselves rose up in a perpetual storm. This nightmare was led by a figure who bore a resemblance to the night King from Westeros, a figure Boba had only heard of in legends. The vision showed centuries of darkness and despair, a universe in chaos and ruin, all stemming from the artifact falling into the wrong hands.
Boba Fett gasped, the vision fading as quickly as it had come. He steadied himself, the severity of the situation now clear. "Alright," he said, his voice firm but wary. "I'll listen. What do you need?"
The stranger nodded, his eerie eyes unblinking. "We must retrieve the artifact before it can be used to bring about the devastation you witnessed. Your hunters will be well compensated, but time is of the essence. Will you help?"
Boba Fett glanced at his trusted lieutenants, who had witnessed his momentary distress but said nothing. He turned back to the stranger. "We'll take the job. But know this: if you betray us, there will be nowhere in the galaxy you can hide."
The stranger tilted his head faintly but genuine. "Agreed. But we must move, time is of the essence."
…
Half a day later…
Boba Fett and his lieutenants gathered around a table as the stranger unrolled a scroll depicting the artifact they needed to retrieve. The detailed illustrations showed an ancient, powerful looking dagger with inscriptions in a language they didn't recognize.
Feeling the weight of the situation, Boba Fett felt obligated to inform Mando and his guild, as well as Ahsoka and a few other bounty hunters. He also contacted Jon, who had arrived quickly from Westeros upon hearing about the eerie vision Boba Fett had relayed over his communicator. Bo-Katan eyed the stranger warily, her hand never straying far from her weapon.
The group assembled, and the atmosphere was tense. The stranger, with his unsettling presence, noticed their apprehension. Bo-Katan broke the silence, her voice steady but curious. "What species are you? I've never encountered a being like you before."
The stranger stared at her eerily, his glowing eyes unblinking. He decided to offer an olive branch. "You remember the serpent your allies warned you about, the one you encountered in Sophis-Sill's temple on Nirn when you first met him?"
The room froze. Bo-Katan's eyes widened as she remembered the malevolent entity they had faced. The stranger continued, undisturbed, bracing silently for what he was about to reveal.
"My father was one of the fallen," he said. "I'm a child of a demon from the original universe and a mortal from Westeros."
He then turned to the wide-eyed Jon. "My mother was part of the group you refer to as the Children of the Forest, who you met a while ago before those individuals died out."
Jon's expression was a mix of shock and recognition. The Children of the Forest were a mysterious and ancient race, and the revelation that one had a child with a demon from the original universe was both astounding and unsettling.
Ahsoka stepped forward, her expression thoughtful. "So, you are a hybrid. A Nephilim of sorts."
The stranger nodded. "Yes, though I prefer not to dwell on labels. What matters now is the mission at hand. The artifact we seek must not fall into the wrong hands."
Bo-Katan's wariness didn't dissipate, but she nodded in understanding. "Alright. Let's focus on retrieving the artifact. But know this—we'll be watching you closely."
The stranger nodded slightly, a gesture that did little to ease the tension in the room. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
With the group now informed and the mission clear, they began to make their preparations. The realization that they were dealing with a being who had a direct tie to the infernal lineage, and the presence of said enigmatic stranger added an additional layer of complexity to their task.
…Top of Form
Search team-1 consisted of Jon, Ahsoka, Bo-Katan, and Mando, along with two other bounty hunters—Zuckuss and Dengar. Based on the data they had, the dagger-like object they sought was somewhere on Tatooine due to a recent conjunction. It was masked, making it difficult to pinpoint its exact location, but they knew the general area to search.
As their ship soared over the sandy dunes of Tatooine, Jon couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at the mysterious creature they were helping. The stranger, with his wooden, featureless face, exuded an unsettling presence that made everyone on board uneasy.
The stranger turned his head slightly, his glowing eyes locking onto Jon's. Jon felt a chill run down his spine as the stranger's gaze pierced through him. Sensing Jon's discomfort, the stranger began to speak, his voice resonating in Jon's mind.
"Does this happen often? Mortals having... offspring with the fallen?" Jon's thoughts echoed the question he had been pondering.
The stranger's voice answered in Jon's mind. "Up until the Flood in the original universe, it happened on occasion. More like we were the byproduct of demons trying to pollute the mortal races with their unholy nature. However, when the Flood happened in that universe—which is separate from my own—their tactics dispersed, as they were banned from such practices on that Earth afterward. Don't get me wrong, there were still giant people from time to time, but they were just people suffering from gigantism, similar to the Mountain you've encountered before. But like I said, it still happens on occasion in other multiverses."
Jon swallowed hard, processing the information. The stranger's eerie voice continued, "I am an outcast from both my mother's people and my father's realm. My existence is one of constant struggle and sorrow."
The stranger then turned to Ahsoka, his wooden, mouthless face seemingly expressionless but his eyes intense. "What do you see in me? Of my nature?"
Ahsoka paused, her senses attuned to the Force. She looked deeply into the stranger's eyes, feeling the complexity of his being. "You're somewhere in the grey area," she began honestly. "You have a deep sadness within you, a well of sorrow. I sense that you're an outcast not just from your mother's people, but also because your father rejected you through malice... because you showed kindness to another, who is now gone. You showed empathy—something he saw as weakness. That showed humanity where he was lacking."
The stranger's eyes glowed brighter for a moment, as if acknowledging the truth in her words. "Yes," he said softly, his voice a whisper in the minds of those present. "Empathy is a rare quality, and it has cost me dearly."
Bo-Katan, who had been listening intently, spoke up. "We're here to retrieve the artifact. Let's focus on the mission and ensure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."
The ship began its descent as they neared the area where the artifact was believed to be located. The barren landscape of Tatooine stretched out before them, and the sense of urgency grew.
They landed the ship and disembarked, scanning the area for any signs of the masked artifact. The hot desert wind blew sand across their path as they moved cautiously through the dunes.
Zuckuss and Dengar took point, their blasters ready. Ahsoka and Bo-Katan followed closely, while Mando and Jon flanked the stranger, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.
As they progressed, the stranger's presence seemed to guide them, his unspoken knowledge leading them closer to their goal. Despite the tension and unease, they pressed on, united by the gravity of their mission.
…
As the search party continued their trek across the desolate dunes of Tatooine eventually coming to a crevice progressively getting closer as their contacts have covered half the ground so far, an unsettling feeling began to wash over them. The air seemed to grow heavier, and a sense of impending danger loomed.
Almost like they were being watched yet neither Mando, nor Ahsoka could pick any heat signitures up, nor could their scanners sense any life-signs.
They moved closer to the suspected location of the artifact. The ground began to tremble slightly, the air crackling with a strange energy. Suddenly, they were ambushed by a group of bounty hunters, clearly sent by a rival faction.
Blaster fire erupted around them as the search party took cover. Zuckuss and Dengar returned fire, while Mando and Bo-Katan moved to flank their attackers while Jon occasionally peaked out to blast with his blaster.
Blaster fire erupted around them as the search party took cover. Zuckuss and Dengar returned fire, while Mando and Bo-Katan moved to flank their attackers. Jon occasionally peeked out to fire his blaster. Amidst the chaos, Jon couldn't help but stare at their Nephilim ally, who stood there like a statue, making no move to take cover.
As they dealt with the droids and the enemy bounty hunters, Jon's shock grew. The Nephilim ally remained motionless, even as blaster shots whizzed past him. When the last droid fell, Jon couldn't contain his curiosity and frustration.
"Why didn't you take cover?!" Jon shouted; his voice tinged with disbelief.
The Nephilim ally turned slightly, revealing a shocking sight. A blaster shot had hit him square in the wooden chest cavity, revealing nothing but roots, branches, and broken wood that were quickly smoldering and regenerating. The sight made everyone freeze in their tracks.
Without missing a beat, the Nephilim said, "I needed to confirm something."
The party stared in silence, trying to process what they were seeing. Ahsoka, with her heightened Force sensitivity, sensed something particularly foul about the energy around them.
"What did you confirm?" Bo-Katan asked warily.
The Nephilim's eyes glowed faintly as he replied, "There's another Nephilim here."
That revelation made everyone tense. The Nephilim continued, "We've made an agreement in that one moment—a one-on-one match. If I succeed in proving my nature against him, he will allow us passage. If I fail, we'll be dead in less than two seconds. Do exactly as I say."
He looked directly at Jon, his expression intense. "Especially you, Jon. You're not decked out in armor or have a lightsaber. If I fail, you'll be the first to roast."
Jon's eyes widened in fear and understanding. "What... what do we do?"
The Nephilim stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. "Stay back and let me handle this. Prepare to take cover if things go wrong, but do not interfere."
As he stepped forward, the ground began to tremble again. From the shadows a male Zabrak or Dathomirian as some called them emerged. The party recognized his species immediately though it still took them a moment to recognize his species with his pointy ears, short nose like some animal, and two curled horns like some ram, not to mention the black and white skin like markings instead of black and red or yellow; he looked like a Nightsister, with his pale grey skin and dark, jagged markings. But there was something different, something almost deceptively sinister about him. His glowing red eyes and the dark aura surrounding him hinted at his dual nature—half Zabrak and half something demonic.Bottom of Form
He introduced himself as Darias Valar and his relaxed demeanor was unnerving. He leered at Ahsoka, making her shiver. "So, you are the ones seeking the artifact," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with malice. "I must say, I expected more. Especially you," he added, staring at Ahsoka. "I can sense your power, yet you seem so... fragile. Almost human."
Ahsoka felt a cold dread wash over her. This being wasn't natural. He had a dual nature—partly of the like that of a male equivalent to the Nightsisters and partly something far more sinister. "You're not just a Zabrak," she said, her voice steady despite her fear. "What are you?"
Darias smirked, his eyes gleaming. "I am a hybrid, a Nephilim. Born of the darkness and nurtured by it. And now, if you don't mind, I shall see if your friend is truly worthy."
The two Nephilim locked eyes, and the air around them crackled with a visible ripple in the force. The ground beneath them began to shake violently, the air filled with a deafening hum. The spiritual battle was unlike anything the party had ever witnessed.
Everyone else was brought to their knees, unable to withstand the overwhelming energy. Jon was forced down to his chest on the ground, barely able to breathe as he struggled to move. Ahsoka, Mando, Bo-Katan, Zuckuss, and Dengar were all incapacitated by the intense force.
Visible bolts of lightning shot off to the sides, blasting into the crevice walls and sending rocks flying. The sheer power of the confrontation was awe-inspiring and terrifying. The ground quaked as if an earthquake were tearing the world apart, and the air shimmered with raw energy.
The clash lasted for a few minutes, though it felt like an eternity. Finally, the allied Nephilim unleashed a surge of grey energy that broke through the dark tendrils and struck Darias. The corrupted Nephilim staggered, his malevolent aura flickering before dissipating entirely.
Darias relented, almost casually nodding his head as he stepped aside. "You have proven your nature," he said, his voice devoid of its earlier malice. "You may pass."
The ground stopped shaking, and the oppressive energy lifted. The search party slowly regained their composure, catching their breath and assessing the situation. Ahsoka approached their Nephilim ally, her expression a mix of shock and curiosity.
"That power... it was unlike anything I've ever encountered. It wasn't dark or light, but something else entirely."
The Nephilim seemed to pause for a moment before he spoke.
"It's… something my mother taught me to do." He responded though his eyes never left the Nephilim before him. And before Ahsoka could ask about that, he started walking forward passing the Nephilim who was blocking their way without a fight.
One by one, the search party cautiously followed, each passing Darias Valar with a wary eye. His malevolent gaze tracked them, a lingering threat hanging in the air.
Mando moved first, his steps deliberate and steady, his helmeted gaze meeting Darias's with unwavering resolve. Bo-Katan followed, her hand never straying far from her weapon, ready for any sudden moves.
Zuckuss and Dengar, experienced bounty hunters, were next. They moved quickly and quietly, their eyes never leaving Darias until they were a safe distance away. Jon, still shaken by the encounter, took a deep breath before he walked past, his heart pounding as Darias's intense stare seemed to bore into him.
Ahsoka was the last to move. She stepped forward, her senses alert to any potential threat. As she passed Darias, his leering gaze followed her, sending a chill down her spine. But she remained composed, her focus on the mission ahead.
After passing Darias, they continued their journey, the tension slowly easing as they put distance between themselves and the corrupted Nephilim. A few minutes later, they arrived at a small crevice that was in the center of the labyrinth of crevices. In the dim light, they spotted an object lying between two rocks.
Mando stepped forward cautiously, his visor scanning the area for any hidden traps or dangers. "There it is," he said, his voice steady. "The dagger."
Jon's blood ran cold as he saw the weapon. It was the same dagger used to create the Night King—a relic of unimaginable power and darkness. "That's it," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "The dagger that created the Night King."
Ahsoka stepped closer, her senses tingling with the dark energy emanating from the artifact. "We need to be very careful with this," she said, her tone serious. "This weapon holds immense power. We can't let it fall into the wrong hands."
Their Nephilim ally nodded in agreement. "This dagger must be secured and hidden away, where it can do no harm."
Mando carefully picked up the dagger, his movements precise and controlled. He secured it in a protective case, ensuring it was safely contained. "Let's move," he said, "We need to get this back and make sure it's stored safely."
Back on Mando's ship, the search party settled in, the weight of their recent encounter hanging heavily over them. They had already called in the unsettling encounter they experienced, and the dagger was secured in a protective case. As the ship soared through space, a tense silence filled the air, each member lost in their thoughts.
Ahsoka sat near their Nephilim ally, observing him quietly. She could sense the complexity of his nature, the balance he held within himself. The questions she had about him were numerous, but one in particular stood out.
She took a deep breath and approached him. "We can't keep calling you Nephilim all the time," she said, her voice gentle. "What is your name?"
The Nephilim turned his featureless wooden face slightly, contemplating her question. He lifted his head slightly, the glow of his eyes dimming as he thought deeply. Finally, he spoke, his voice resonating with an ancient, almost forgotten dialect.
"My name is Aranrùth," he said, his tone solemn. "It means 'King's Wrath' in the old tongue of my mother's people, the Children of the Forest from Westeros."
Ahsoka nodded, absorbing the name and its significance. "Aranrùth," she repeated softly. "It's a strong name."
Aranrùth inclined his head, acknowledging her words. "Thank you. It was given to me by my mother, to remind me of the strength of our people."
Ahsoka sensed a deep well of sorrow and strength within him. "Your mother must have been very proud of you," she said.
Aranrùth's eyes glowed faintly. "She was, in her own way. She taught me to balance the darkness and light within me, to find my own path."
As he spoke, Ahsoka noticed a glowing sigil burning on his hand, causing him to wince slightly. Noticing her apprehension, he explained, "My father... is not pleased when I defy him, like what I just did. He left me this mark as a reminder of what can happen should I do something that is... compassionate."
As the sigil died down, he elaborated further, "It's tied to my soul, seeing as how a piece of my father's darkness is tied to my being. It has a will of its own, and it doesn't shy away from punishing me when I do something to aid others or do what's right."
He rubbed his bark-like hand in silence, the pain still evident in his movements. Ahsoka felt a pang of empathy for him, understanding the burden he carried. "You have chosen a difficult path, Aranrùth. But know that you are not alone. We are here to support you."
Aranrùth didn't look up, but his voice carried gratitude. "I know Ahsoka… I know…"
Jon sat nearby, processing the revelation in silence. The idea of a creature torn between light and dark, constantly punished for acts of compassion, struck him deeply . He couldn't help but feel a profound sense of empathy and admiration for Aranrùth's strength and dedication to do what's right even at great personal cost. The thought of carrying such a burden was almost unimaginable, yet here was someone who faced it with unwavering resolve.
Bo-Katan, standing by the door, crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. She had always prided herself on her ability to remain strong in the face of adversity, but Aranrùth's story gave her pause. She admired his resolve but was wary of the dark influences that still held sway over him. The sigil on his hand was a stark reminder of the constant threat he lived under. Bo-Katan's determination to protect her team and the mission only grew stronger, knowing they needed to keep a close watch on their new ally.
In the cockpit, Mando listened in over the holo as he piloted the ship. The revelation about Aranrùth's origins and the sigil left him contemplative. He understood the weight of carrying a past marked by darkness and the struggle to forge one's path despite it. Mando had faced his own battles with his past and found a strange kinship with Aranrùth's journey. Trust and loyalty were essential in their fight against the darkness, and Mando resolved to support the Nephilim in their mission, knowing that together, they stood a better chance against the threats they faced.
…
Back at Boba Fett's palace, the atmosphere was tense. Boba Fett stood in his command room, the holo projector flickering with the faces of his contacts from Westeros: Tyrion Lannister, Sansa Stark, Grey Worm, and Tormund Giantsbane. Jon Snow stood beside Boba Fett, his expression serious as they prepared to discuss the alarming revelation.
Boba Fett initiated the call, and the faces of his Westeros contacts materialized before him. "Thank you for joining us," Boba began. "We have some important information to share, and it's imperative that we address this immediately."
Tyrion, always quick on the uptake, leaned forward. "What's happened? The urgency in your tone suggests this is not a routine update."
Jon took a deep breath before speaking. "We've encountered a Nephilim here—a being that is part demon and part mortal. He claims his mother was one of the Children of the Forest from Westeros."
Sansa's eyes widened in shock. "A Nephilim? In your galaxy? And he's connected to Westeros?"
Grey Worm's expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a hint of concern. "If there is one Nephilim, there could be more. We need to understand the implications."
Tormund, ever the pragmatist, stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Nephilim are not something to be taken lightly. If they're here and in Westeros, they could be in other places too."
Boba Fett nodded, his face grim. "That's exactly our concern. If there are Nephilim here, and one of them came from Westeros, there's a strong possibility they exist in other universes as well."
Tyrion's mind was already racing, considering the broader implications. "We need to inform our allies and ensure everyone is aware of this potential threat. Knowledge is power, and in this case, it might allow our men and forces to be on guard against such being in the future."
Sansa nodded in agreement. "We have to be proactive. We can't let this information fall into the wrong hands. The existence of Nephilim could disrupt the balance of power in ways we can't even predict."
Grey Worm took initiative. "I'll mobilize the Unsullied. We need to be prepared for any eventuality."
Tormund added, "I'll send word to the Free Folk. This is something we all need to be aware of."
Boba Fett glanced at Jon, then back at the holo images of their Westeros contacts. "We have a lot of work to do. We need to coordinate our efforts and make sure our networks are informed. This isn't just about our galaxy or Westeros. It's about every universe connected to ours."
Tyrion's expression was serious. "Agreed. We'll start reaching out to our contacts immediately. We'll share what we know and prepare for what we don't."
As the holo call ended, Jon let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Something told him they will have to deal with this sooner rather than later…
…
Elsewhere in Fearun, several universes away…
Far away in another universe, in the frigid north of Faerûn, a group of Red Wizards convened in a dark, stone chamber. The room had the smell of burned incense and the walls were adorned with ancient runes and tapestries depicting scenes of necromantic power.
The Red Wizards were uneasy, their leader Szass Tam, once the most powerful lich in Thay, had been imprisoned, stripped of his power, and made mortal by an alliance of universes. This humiliation had not gone unnoticed, and months of careful planning had led to a meeting of his most loyal and powerful allies.
"How could they imprison him and strip him of his powers?" one wizard spat, his eyes glowing with fury. "Turning a lich mortal is the worst fate imaginable. It's an insult to all of us!"
"Quiet," another hissed, his gaze sharp and calculating. "We need to focus on our retaliation. Szass Tam's downfall has left a void, and we must fill it."
"Our efforts have been thwarted at every turn," a third wizard said, frustration clear in his voice. "Reports indicate that a deity actively shields his followers from our poisons and blades. One of our scouts confronted a mere guard, and despite our best poisons, the man survived. He was a follower of this new god."
A tense silence followed as the wizards absorbed this news. The implications were dire. Their poisons, which had felled kings and queens, were now ineffective against this divine protection.
Finally, one of the wizards spoke up. "We need a new strategy. Our current methods are failing. We must find a way to counter this god's influence."
At that moment, Raphael, the notorious devil from Avernus spoke up at this unprecedented meeting of the infernal and the undead, "Indeed," Raphael began, his voice smooth and confident. "Our current methods are failing. But I propose something different, something I've been debating for quite a while now."
The wizards turned their attention to him, curious and wary. Raphael's cunning and strategic mind were well known, and his proposals often carried significant weight.
"Why not play by their rules?" Raphael suggested, his eyes gleaming with a devilish light. "If we cannot beat them, join them. Send a delegation to their leaders who are more moderate than the rest of us. Build bridges."
A murmur of confusion and skepticism rippled through the room. "Join them?" one wizard echoed, disbelief evident in his voice. "You mean... ally with them?"
Raphael nodded. "Precisely. If they reject our offer, they would be showing favoritism and hypocrisy. But if they accept, that very action can sow doubt among their peoples, given how both our peoples have bad reputations amongst them. Either way, we win."
The room fell silent again, but this time the silence was filled with contemplation rather than despair. The wizards exchanged glances, considering the devil's proposal.
"Raphael, do you truly believe they would accept such an offer?" another wizard asked, his tone cautious.
Raphael's smile was cold and calculating. "It's a risk, but one worth taking. Their alliance is built on the foundation of unity against common enemies. If we extend an olive branch, it could fracture their unity. They will have to decide whether to accept our offer and risk internal dissent or reject it and appear hypocritical to their followers."
A hooded wizard leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "And what if they accept? What then?"
Raphael's smile widened. "If they accept, we play the long game. We integrate ourselves, learn their weaknesses from within, and wait for the perfect moment to strike. We can use their own principles and values against them, turning their strength into a vulnerability."
The wizards nodded slowly, their skepticism giving way to intrigue. Raphael's plan was bold, but it had the potential to turn the tide in their favor.
"It is a risky strategy," one of the senior wizards admitted, "but given our current situation, it might be our best option."
Raphael nodded. "Good. Then we proceed. We will send a delegation to their leaders, those who are more moderate and open to dialogue. We will present ourselves as seeking peace and cooperation. And we will watch closely to see how they respond."
Raphael's plan offered a glimmer of hope. They would adapt, bide their time, and seize any opportunity to reclaim their power and exact their revenge.
For better or worse now… they were in uncharted territory.
And they had no idea of what the outcome would be.