A/N: Now begins the fifth, and final, story of the life and reign of Darth Avaryss. It has been a long journey since January 1, 2019. I will come to miss my little Sith when this is over. If you have not read the four previous stories you might want to, a passing reading of my Rogue Jedi stories would not hurt either. As always, I don't own Star Wars, I just play here. Hope you have all enjoyed the ride.
DG
Star Wars: The Old Republic: Mother of Horrors
The Alliance has risen!
Across the galaxy the Hero of Tython gathers the galaxy to oppose the rule of the Eternal Throne. Allied with his lover Lana Beniko, the Jedi has sworn to free the galaxy from Arcann and his vile rule.
Yet, Arcann is not the only darkness threatening the galaxy.
On the world of Bantoon, Darth Avaryss, Dark Lord and Imperial warlord, has gathered her followers and continues work on a weapon that will destroy her enemies across the galaxy and allow her to rule over the ashes.
All that remains is the construction of her Grand Temple, and with its rise, her shadow will cover all things.
Yet, even in the heart of darkness, hope remains.
Resistance endures…
Chapter 1: Into the Storm
The skies above Bantoon were never dark, the planet, the only inhabitable world for parsecs, had been hidden for generations. The gravity wells, nebulas, and stellar anomalies blocking all but a single access point, a point discovered by accident millennia earlier.
On a clear night the skies of Bantoon were filled with light. Reds, blues and greens swirled among the stars, inspiring generations of artists and poets.
Not that many Bann were looking up these days. When one looked up now, all one would see would be the shadow of ships.
Warships.
A flotilla of Sith vessels orbited their planet, either on patrol or sitting in docking cradles at local shipyards, being serviced or rearmed. Three years earlier, the Sith had come without warning, their forces overwhelming the planets defenders in a matter of hours. To this day, no one knew how the invaders had done such a thing, some suspected that a cadre of nobles had betrayed the queen, others said that the legendary sworn protectors of Bantoon had been compromised, compromised and bent to the Sith's will.
Others blamed the Force wielders that lived on Bantoon. Few trusted them, either the Jedi or the Paladina that had risen with the aid of the Republic's defenders.
All the native Bann knew was that their world was occupied, their queen and the royal family forced to obey the will of an outsider.
She was hated and feared, but none dared act.
She had made sure of it.
Hope was something to be crushed, and she was very good at doing just that.
She was, after all, a Sith Master.
That outsider, now sat aboard a small shuttle that had left the Bann capital, left and proceeded in high orbit. The only way to reach her destination, a location that was currently within the eye of a vicious hurricane.
The shuttle made its way swiftly, escorted by a full squadron of Sith fighters. At its controls, sat two Bann sworn protectors, protectors clad in the armor and robes of imperial royal guards. Having murdered their own nobles in the early hours of the invasion, these now had no master except the one they escorted now. If not for the hidden programming given them years ago, they would have committed suicide after dealing with those they had been assigned to protect.
To the rest of Bantoon they were already dead, no one would have thought to look for them under the helmets of the Sith Master's guards. They, like the rest of her guard, were all such servants.
The Dark Lord admired the symmetry of it, the artistry.
She liked that they had no choice but to serve her, their programming allowed for nothing else, and that somewhere deep inside them they aware that they couldn't resist, all they could do was scream silently, and rage against her control. They hated her, but that didn't matter.
They were hers, and soon, they would not be alone.
The Dark Lord smiled, her eyes glowing beneath the black cloth of her heavy cowl.
Everything was so close to being hers now, only a few more months, and then…
The galaxy would die, and what was left…
…would belong to her!
"We have clearance to land, Baroness," one of the royal guards said from cockpit.
The dark lord nodded.
"Bring us in, then," she purred, "I'm most eager to see how close we are to victory."
The guard nodded and made the proper adjustments.
The shuttle began its slow reentry. The fighters broke off, to patrol from above, they had no shields against the storm.
The dark lord sighed and leaned back, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine.
Three years she thought…so much time, but in the end…
…completely worth it.
She was in her late twenties now, still a young woman, but her use of the dark side had left its mark. Most would have thought her fifteen to twenty years older, her brow was starting to furrow, the skin around her red rimmed eyes starting to wrinkle.
Not that she minded, no, she had never been overly concerned with her looks. Her eyes were yellow and bloodshot, proper Sith eyes, the eyes of a predator. Her black hair was now streaked with white. Her fingers long and slender, her nails sharpened like the talons of a blood shrike.
To the local Bann, she was known as Baroness Kyra Hudlo, Prime Minister to the Queen, High Speaker of the Matriarchy and Lady Castellan of all Bantoon.
To the Sith that lived here, she was Darth Avaryss, Dark Lord of the Sith, and their master…their master and soon…the one true Empress.
Empress, she thought, her thoughts now drifting to her many enemies, to Arcann, the usurper Acina, and the murderous Hero of Tython, the Jedi pawn that she believed was nothing but a tool of her treacherous grandfather, the vile Sith spirit Darth Vitiate.
So many foes, so many that deserved to die a final death.
She sneered at the mere thought of them.
Pretenders and thieves all!
She would destroy their capitals, and everyone on them. She would then corrupt the spirits of countless billions, turning them to loyal soldiers of the new Sith Empire.
A golden age would begin, a restoration, no, a perfection of all that had been ruled over by Marka Ragnos more than a millennia ago.
The dream would return, only now it would be galaxy wide.
The TRUE golden age of the Sith, and she would rule over it all!
Everything…would finally, be hers.
The shuttle was rocked by turbulence as it pierced the planet's atmosphere, the hurricane that had formed near her temple now battered it, battered, but could not destroy.
She had chosen the location well, it was a place strong in the dark side, and that…protected her work more than anything else.
The dark side of the Force loved her. She was its champion and executioner.
And her blade was about to fall, the galaxy itself had offered her its neck.
She would happily take its head off.
Rain pounded the shuttle as Avaryss leaned forward, seeing the great ziggurat emerge from the raging storm. She could make out the lights of the temple, though three full quarters of the top was yet to be completed, four short towers emerged from each sharpened edge of the ziggurat, with the tallest rising from the center, or would once the work was finished, for the moment, only the center tower was close to completion.
The structure, was as wide and would be as tall as the former Jedi Temple on Coruscant, but unlike the base of her hated enemies, this would be more functional, as much a weapon as a tribute to her grandness and rule.
It was a dark reflection of everything the Jedi stood for, and it would be the symbol of her victory. The final triumph of the dark over the light.
Her rule and legacy would begin here, and it would last…for the next ten million years.
The shuttle bucked again, but the Sith Lord remained unmoved. Her eyes and attention were on the future, the future hidden within the dark walls of her greatest creation. She would soon walk the halls of the symbol of the next great cataclysm, one born of her genius and power!
Delicious, she thought.
Absolutely delicious!
IOI
The shuttle had touched down on a rain swept landing pad, the dark lord made her way across the walkway, and into the temple proper. Her guards going before her, their crimson cloaks snapping the rain.
Avaryss remained unrushed, her expression cool and serene.
A little rain was nothing to a Sith, and the hurricane around this place was nothing compared to the storm that raged within her.
The full power of the dark side!
She was met by a company of four men. The first wore the uniform of an imperial officer, his face hidden by a matte black featureless mask with only two black lenses to mark his eyes. The second a dark-skinned human, dressed in the robes of a low-level member of the Sith order, a man of science, not war. The third was the foreman for this project, and head of her press-gang, he was muscular, with red skin and long brown braided hair, his name was Feesh, one of the few Sith purebloods that followed her following her rise. The fourth was a short heavy-set man clad in the finery of Bantoon, a white cloth coat and breeches with a gold and black waist coat, his short brown hair cut in the style of a bowl, his eyes, the same color.
The dark-skinned man stepped up first, stepped up, and bowed.
"Welcome, my lord, Darth Avaryss," he said in the cultured voice of one raised on Dromund Kaas.
"We are most honored by your presence."
"High Alchemist Aarb," she replied with a polite nod, "I do hope your daughter is doing well."
"Very well, my lord," the man replied, "She is off world at the moment, travelling with Baron Dresco's son, and your apprentice of course."
Avaryss nodded.
Aarb had been in her service for years now, since she had liberated him from his former master Darth Terrog, and took him into her service. She could think of no better man to handle the alchemical work that was going in to creating this place.
As for his daughter and her whereabout, she had known about that as well. She had heard about that from Taya. Her oldest friend moved easily among both the Sith and the Matriarchs of their throne world, and was trusted with much, including keeping an eye and ear on Avaryss' apprentice.
So far, Rain, the dark lord's former serving girl turned student, had proven herself to be a dedicated and ruthless member of the order. Helping her master win several victories when the people of this planet had tried to rebel in the first few months of their rule.
The Bann were brave, but no match for Sith might, especially when that might was enhanced by Rain's battle meditation.
Yet, Rain was more than just a weapon, or tool, and at eighteen, was finally growing into both the woman and the Sith her master knew that she would become.
She like her teacher, was...a success!
Yes, Rain had done much to imitate her master, much as Avaryss had in her youth, her apprentice had surrounded herself with a circle of allies, an entourage of sorts.
Taya's little brother Calin was among them, and so, of course, why wouldn't Aarb's daughter Lyka been as well? The girl had been raised a foster of Taya's father, so she had spent much time with Calin. It was rumored that they were even dating now, or so Avaryss had heard.
Relationships such as these could have been a distraction, but the Dark Lord allowed them to continue.
Avaryss tolerated her apprentice's circle of friends, they all had skills that a young Sith might find useful on a mission, and as long as they didn't interfere with her Sith training she saw no harm.
Turning away from the alchemist, her mind and attention returned to the matter at hand.
She turned to the Bann and the Sith pureblood.
"Feesh, Lord Lyrhan, I trust everything is progressing with our work crews? We do have a schedule to keep."
"All is as you desire, my lord," the red skinned Sith said with a nod, "We have doubled our efforts since the last attempted work stoppage. Several of the leaders of the assembly crews needed to be…made examples of, but since then…we have managed to keep up."
The Sith grinned.
"We will meet our deadline; the main structure will be completed on time."
The dark lord smiled.
Excellent!
She looked at the Bann.
"And what of our skilled laborers, Lord Ryhan? I trust you have done your part in keeping them on track."
Lyrhan Dustyn gave her a simpering smile. The man had long been an agent of the empire. He had spent decades in the palace of Vessaria IX, and never forgiven the woman for the loss of power his family had suffered because of her. His grandfather, Lyron Dustyn, a useful idiot of Darth Hecaetus, had died at the hands of Jas Dar Bynn and his wife Vessaria, costing their family a place so near the throne of this world.
Both the father and later the grandson had been recruited into the Sith after that, continuing to serve a useful role in keeping Sith matters on Bantoon spinning, despite the lack of Sith being in attendance.
Again, another very useful idiot.
Avaryss was grateful for his presence.
"The artisans we have either forcefully recruited or hired are having some…issues, Prime Minister," the man informed her, "Some of the more detailed work on the structure has suffered because of it."
The dark lord pinned him with a cold gaze.
"Explain," she said.
The man shrugged.
"There are places within this temple that are…disorienting for sentient beings. Rooms with odd angles, they can be disorienting. People report feelings of dread, dizziness, and headaches."
"That is not all," Feesh volunteered, "We lost two of our stone workers, the ones working on the glyphs on level twelve, one jumped off one of the balconies, the other tore out his own eyes. He did so shrieking that he could not take the…shadows watching him."
The dark lord nodded; her expression grim.
This was to be expected, she thought.
Building a place so steeped in the dark side came with certain…complications.
Not to mention the fact that Hecaetus had come up with the blueprints for this place following several sessions consulting the holocron of Darth Nihilus.
Even thinking the name made Avaryss shiver.
Nihilus had left life behind, and become a living wound in the Force, a dark side dream that walked and pretended to be a man.
Any who would dare to go so far were to be feared or even more…respected.
She ordered her men to limit the shifts working in the sections of the temple where Hecaetus' designs called for more exotic construction, it seemed the best way to keep her workers alive and functional.
She needed them all, at least, for now.
She turned to the last of her party, the officer in the mask.
"Has the shipment of Vladanium girders arrived yet, Beric? Are you ready to oversee the assembly of delivery system we discussed?"
Beric Lylos, director of this project, and brother of Keera Lylos nodded, he had once been Avaryss' brother too, but that was before she took a new body. Still, the sense of kinship remained, mostly. Lylos gestured for her to follow, the others fell in step behind them, as the director took the lead and Avaryss walked next to him, looking up at the parts of the temple that were completed, and watched the workers hurrying around finishing up what was needed to be.
They walked side by side, their steps mirroring each other. He appeared thinner than she remembered, but that was not surprising.
He wasn't exactly human anymore.
Years ago, he had turned against her, fallen under the spell of another powerful Sith. He had shot Avaryss, his own sister, in the gut. Though she had recovered and destroyed his master, he remained an enemy to her for several years.
During that time, she had had him experimented on. Programmed him to serve her will, despite his personal feelings, and granted him an advanced healing factor, thanks to Sith alchemy.
Beric had survived those experiments, and eventually, she had managed to return him to close to what he had been before. A loyal soldier in her service, yet that didn't change that he had been altered by her work.
Early in their second year here, Beric had been caught up in an assassination attempt by the locals. He had been badly wounded, but survived because of his healing factor, though he had not been healed as cleanly as he should have been.
His recovery had left him mutated, his voice box destroyed, his jaw misshapen. Where he had once wore the mask only to make the changes, she had made to him bearable, now he wore it to hide his misshapen face.
He could not live as a person anymore, so he had become even more her creature. Taking command of this project, and avoiding his wife and daughter.
Avaryss smiled.
"Xen sends her love," she informed him," She misses having you at her side."
Her brother said nothing, his breath rasping from his mask.
She tried again.
"Mya doesn't fear you; you need to know that. Your daughter wishes to see you, to see her father again, and you can do so as a new man. A whole man! All you need to do is ask, and I will have your spirit moved to a new body, one not so damaged by our work. It would not be hard; I have everything I need here to perform the ritual. You could be…
He didn't even glance at her, merely shook his head.
He had become resigned to this fate.
She did her best to accept that.
Beric had made a choice.
Now, he would live with it.
Part of him wanted to die, but she would not allow that.
He was still useful to her.
She would not grant him any kind of release, not until he was all used up.
HE deserved that fate, that was the price of betraying her before.
When he died, it would be on her terms, and her terms alone.
He…was hers.
He led them out into a section of the temple still open to the elements. A temporary landing pad had been attached to the side of the structure.
The storm intensified, causing rainwater to run down the bill of Beric's officer's cap, lightning flashed revealing the workings of his mask at his throat.
Sith Lord and creature stood together waiting, while the other three and her two guards stayed back. Beric raised his hand, pointing in the distance.
Avaryss tilted her head, and smiled.
Ah, there it was.
The large industrial transport skimmed over the clouds, making its way towards the pad. Six heavy cargo containers bearing the newly smelted girders. Vladanium had a strange affinity when processed just so, it could enhance the effects of Sith magic. This had been another discovery by Darth Nihilius, who had used Vladanium girders to strengthen the damaged superstructure of his warship, and his own power.
Now Avaryss had use for it. It would be used in the construction of the temple's towers, allow her to focus the power of the dark side through them, and from there out into the galaxy proper. She would use the temple to amplify the power of the keys of Darth Hecaetus to…
There was a flash in the distance, the roar of the transports engines sputter and went up several octaves.
The dark lord's eyes widened.
What the?!
The transport's port engine vanished, in a flash the heavy transport began to spin downward, it was struck by lightning several times, further damaging its systems.
Yet, it had still been moving fast on its final approach.
It was still heading down...fast.
Heading…right towards Avaryss and her party.
"Run," she said backing away.
"My lord," Feesh said, "What is…?"
"RUN!"
The group scattered, as the transport slammed into the side of the grand temple, a huge section of the finished outer wall tore off and tumbled down the ziggurat.
It was only then that the ship exploded throwing shards of metal, both through the temple's superstructure and down onto the workers and Sith below.
Avaryss barely had time to throw up a shield, to protect herself from the worst of the explosion.
Most of those around her had not been so lucky.
Workers fell from scaffolds, some burning while they fell screaming to their end. Others were struck by flying shrapnel, killed instantly. One of Avaryss' royal guards was beheaded. Feesh fell shrieking as a shard of burning metal took off his left leg.
Beric was cut in half by a piece of flying wreckage, his torso fell back as his legs stumbled and fell over a ledge and down several stories.
Avy looked over at him, she was not worried.
He would regenerate.
No blood flowed from his bisected body, white foam bubbled as organs reformed, not as properly as before, but they would be functional.
Ric had lost limbs before, and grew them back in minutes, he would recover from this, and even more so when gotten to a kolto tank. He…
A loud alarm sounded over the temple loudspeaker, not the bleating of a danger alert, but the blare of a battle horn.
When the announcer spoke, bile rose in Avaryss' throat.
What she heard…she didn't like.
"Citizens of Bantoon! Slaves of the Reevan invaders, hear me! Do not give up hope, the light has not abandoned you. WE have not abandoned you!"
"Turn it off," the dark lord shouted, not really talking to anyone. Trying to be heard over the screams and the panic, the sounds of her beautiful temple being damaged, sections of it collapsing around her.
"SOMEONE TURN THAT KRIFFIN THING OFF!"
"These Reevan, these Sith CAN be defeated, CAN and WILL be defeated. Be brave good people, you are not alone. The light and the gods still stand with you. The Paladina still live, and stand with you! GODS BLESS BANTOON! BLESS THE PALADINA! BLESS OUR QUEEN AND HER DAUGHTERS! BLESS OUR LIGHT OF HOPE, the royal in exile. BLESS PRINCESS BAYLA! SHE WILL RETURN AND…"
Avaryss howled.
The Force scream shook the very floor beneath her, it blew out the loudspeaker system, even as it deafened anyone close enough to the dark lord to hear it. Those who were far enough away fell to their knees, crying out, suddenly overcome by a sense of rage and despair.
As the dark lord stopped, those around her lay on the ground, some moaning, many whimpering.
All hurt, either by the crash of the shuttle, or the power of her scream.
She looked around, fury boiling, her eyes seeking a victim.
She needed to find someone!
Someone needed to pay for this!
"My lord?"
Aarb and Lord Ryhan had limped to her side, both looked worse for wear.
She glared at both, only just holding back her rage. Her desire to kill and destroy almost overwhelming.
She needed them. They were tools that would help her seek vengeance, and besides.
Work needed to continue here. Repairs needed to be made. More Vladanium needed to be found.
This was a setback, a major one.
She could not let it go unanswered.
She looked down at Feesh and Beric. The pureblood was going into shock, a workman was trying to bind the stump that had once been his leg. Beric was…
Beric lay rasping on the floor, his organs and bones already reforming.
He was in no danger, still…
Avaryss called out.
"Bring medical capsules immediately, see to the gang boss and the director! Get them to kolto tanks…now!"
Workers rushed to follow her orders, some of them anyway, the others remained shell shocked.
She was tempted to kill these stragglers, but again held back her rage.
She had real enemies, dealing with these mundanes would bring nothing but more problems, and the need to recruit even more workers.
Her hands curled into fists.
She turned to Lord Ryhan.
"I thought you said the Paladina were all dead?"
The man swallowed hard.
"We destroyed their last stronghold on the island of Hr'sunt," he told her, "We found no survivors."
Avaryss sneered.
So much for that, she thought.
The Paladina were not dead after all.
Wonderful.
Almost forty years ago, the rogue Jedi Jas Dar Bynn had taken it upon himself to train several young people on Bantoon in the ways of the Jedi. These children had been the scions of the ancient Force-sensitive sorcerers that had once aided Bantoon's military and priesthood.
Rather than give up their old traditions they blended them with Jedi philosophies, creating a new order of Force Sensitives, the Jedi Paladina, or just Paladina.
They had opposed Avaryss since her landing, sabotage and espionage had plagued her rule, and the Paladina had been the cause. She had thought them destroyed, but now…now…
She took a shuddering breath.
She turned to the Bann lord.
"Speak with General Glasc, he will give you what ever troops and resources you need. Find these remaining Paladina vermin, and exterminate them."
"It will be done, my lord," the man said with a military style bow.
"See that it is," she purred, "You have one last chance, your lordship, do not fail me."
"I will not. You have my word."
She turned away from him, making her way back towards her shuttle. She pulled out her commlink, speaking directly to General Glasc in the palace.
"My lord?"
"General," she said, "There has been an attack on the temple, the Paladina were behind it.
A snarl came over the link.
"I will send troops and medical ships, immediately. I will get to the bottom of this."
"Yes, you will," the dark lord hissed, "you will also send word to the bounty hunters guild. The price on the head of Bayla Istillo has just been doubled, dead or alive, I want that Bann woman's head on a plate, General."
"It will be done, master, with pleasure."
"Do not waste any more time speaking with me, you are already behind! Get to it!"
She clicked off her commlink and turned back, looking at the damage that had been done.
The Paladina remained to block her.
Bayla Istillo still lived, lived and mocked her.
The Sith snarled.
Bayla Istillo, youngest child of Queen Vessaria IX and Jas Dar Bynn. Her escape during the invasion three years ago still haunted the Sith, and now this…this cry of support for her.
It couldn't be tolerated.
It wouldn't be tolerated.
She could imagine it right now. Balya Istillo, standing in some military style bunker, waiting now to hear the report of this attack.
Well, if she thought this would stop the dark lord, she had another thing coming.
A delay would not stop Avaryss' plan.
The galaxy would still hers.
While Arcann and the Hero of Tython fought their duel across the stars, Avaryss would sneak up behind them, and plant a dagger in each of their backs, a pair of blades deep into their respective hearts.
Their fight meant nothing; they would be dead when the temple was finished.
Death knell, the keys of Hecaetus, and the grand temple, with these in her hands the galaxy would die, and then…everything that was left would be hers.
Let them wage their battles. She would win the war.
She would win, and…
…revenge would hers, and with it…
…the galaxy!