Author's Note: Half of the reason I started this fic was to do Indiana Jones nonsense in space. And the other half is I really liked my Jedi Shadow and Jedi Sentinel builds on SWTOR back in the day.
Chapter 4: Only Breath and Shadow
Nicht Ka was a smelly, soggy, hellscape. We'd barely squeezed in through the hyperlane that my Padawan had calculated, meaning that the largest ship that could fit through would be one perhaps half again the size of ours, perfect for exploration but entirely useless for conquest.
The good news was I didn't really think I was going to find anything substantial on the other side here immediately. This was the first step in a long game. Show the Council we'd regained access to the Ancient Sith Worlds and that they had artifacts, relics, cults, or spirits that hypothetically could have restarted the Sith.
Would a backdoor into Exegol be amazing? Absolutely, but my primary and short term goal here was to use this as a softball pitch to the Council to allow me to investigate things I knew Sidious and Plagueis had perpetrated.
Plus there was an element of excitement, I had no idea exactly what we would find down here on Nicht Ka as Baylan landed the Skipray near a large obsidian hexagonal structure that was some kind of fort or tomb. Or both, you never really knew with the Sith.
Oh I'm sure there was some side quest datacrystal in a game, comic, or weird lore magazine article I could have read that would tell me exactly what to expect here. But even if I had read those in a past life, who the fuck would remember that stuff off of the top of their head?
Even here in the mountainous region of the boggy mess of a planet we still had to contend with the ammonia rains. Luckily everyone was capable enough to do light telekinetic shielding and we had purifying breathing masks on. Only Baylan would be incapable of Breath Control should a mask fail, thus he had a spare in his toolbelt as well.
Entering the foreboding archway leading into the structure we all kept our eyes open, both our physical and metaphysical visions scanning for traps or threats.
However, the Force was strangely…passive here. Oh sure the place was absolutely flooded with the Dark Side and its influence, but it was as if it were asleep. It wasn't actively doing anything.
"Master, there are some inscriptions over here!" I snapped my head to the side where Baylan had found some Sith glyph work interspersed up and down the corridor.
I made my way over, I was decently fluent. I was better at pictographic languages than runic ones like Sith, but I'd made it a priority to overcome my runic failings in this case. A minor obsession I had shown as a Padawan that had both intrigued and concerned Jerec, though I imagine he had become proud of me by the end.
Especially after it helped us figure out what had happened in that tomb on Athiss. He'd been so angry when deciphered the final carvings of the extinct tomb dwellers and found that the Old Republic and the Sith Empire both had pillaged that tomb and slaughtered the inhabitants and we'd merely fallen prey to bad record-keeping and that likely one or two artifacts from there were currently in the vaults of the Coruscant Temple.
"Herein lies the regalia of Warb Null, truest of the disciples of the Dark Lord Freedon Nadd. The only apprentice of Freedon Nadd to never betray his master."
Depa let out an indignant huff as I recited the translation, "Why is it always Freedon Nadd? If this ends up being the origin of your suspected modern Sith I will be extremely put out, Sinsor."
I shook my head, "I cannot discount Freedon Nadd's influence entirely, but I promise this planet is not the origin, the areas outside seemed completely untouched. Though I suppose if the Sith had hidden themselves from us for long enough to build up strength perhaps they could have come here over a hundred years ago and the traces would be gone."
That's when Baylan spoke up, "No, Master. From my astrogation work this path has only been open enough to fit even a hyperspace capable starfighter for fifty or so years."
I smiled at the lad, "Good, I trust your work. There we have it Depa, not this shrine at least."
"I am unsure whether that's better or worse."
Malicos nodded, "Indeed, the thought of more unguarded Sith shrines being about the galaxy makes me most uneasy."
As we continued our search the shrine was oddly barren. We found what appeared to be barracks rooms, meditation chambers, and an armory, but they all appeared stripped bare. They also contained a deceptively low amount of dust, however, we had noticed that there seemed to be a very odd lack of any biological presence inside the building. No moss, no rodents, no small bugs, no small reptiles, not even mold. This led me to believe that perhaps the lack of dust was less about having been cleaned or disturbed, and more about some kind of Sith enchantment draining life from any biological organisms that did not possess defensive Force capabilities.
Perhaps that was the main trap of the temple? I thought to myself as we headed deeper down to what I was theorizing would be some type of central chamber, likely where the regalia was held.
I was…more excited than I should have been. In both lives I had grown up listening to the legends of Nomi Sunrider, Ulic Qel-Droma, and the Great Sith War. Of course in this life they had been real legends.
Exar Kun's deadliness in fact was the reason why I had pursued an archaic mastery of Niman, as opposed to the modern style. Though I still wished to take my lightsaber combat abilities to the next level by upgrading Juyo to Vaapad, Niman would always be my first love as far as combat went. In my opinion, the lack of combat talent many practitioners showed was not an inherent flaw in the form. It was merely an inherent flaw in peacetime training.
And there it was, the inner sanctum of this shrine. An easily opened door, and an amphitheater set up around a tacky black durasteel throne upon which sat a black spiky set of armor missing the right gauntlet. A long lightsaber hilt lay across the lap of the armor. Around the same length as my hilt, which was odd, as mine was designed as a saberstaff and this one clearly was not.
Obviously this lightsaber was meant to be more of a light-zweihander or light-claymore than a lightsaber.
Completely ignoring my other three companions and their protestations that I be cautious I strode confidently down to the dais the throne sat upon.
"What are you doing!" Malicos hissed at me.
I could sense some embarrassment from Baylan.
But it didn't matter, I had already figured out what the actual trap of this shrine was.
The armor itself, obviously.
Reaching my hands out I grabbed the black helm, incessant dark whispers immediately assaulted my mind, and I donned the helm upon my head.
"Sinsor, you fool!" Was the last thing I heard before the visions began.
The entire history of the Sith lineage of Freedon Nadd up until the death of Warb Null by Ulic Qel-Droma's hand assaulted me.
I saw King Adas with his massive Force-imbued war axe slaughter dozens of the reptile-humanoid hybrid looking Rakata. Watched his court magician get sealed into a Mind Prison. Saw the King lead Rakatan drop shuttles back up into orbit of Korriban and captured the Rakatan ships and lead a bloody counter-offensive that conquered the Sith Sacred Worlds.
I then saw the betrayal Kael that ended his life and the offensive, and thus the bloody Sith Civil War that followed. I saw the capital relocate to Ziost.
I saw the rise of Naga Sadow and the Great Hyperspace War. I watched the Battle of Coruscant where the Sith battled the Jedi on the steps of the Senate Hall. I saw the Naga Sadow's Battle Meditation fall as he was betrayed in his Meditation Sphere by an ally he had himself also betrayed.
I saw Warb Null forge this armor, under the guidance of Freedon Nadd's Sith Alchemy.
I saw his fight with Ulic Qel-Droma and its vicious end.
"Now you see, all the history and power you could have. Fight this fire you fear with your own fire. It would be so simple to defeat these Darths with the power of the ancients."
I triggered my Mind Palace, slamming my mental defenses into place. Suddenly the Dark Side voice was trying to assault a mental image of the High Republic's Starlight Beacon at its peak. Full of shields, visions of Jedi Knights, and starfighter squadrons.
In the real world I removed the helmet and placed it back upon the armor.
"Thank you for the history lesson, but I have never been one for the easy path."
"Who are you talking t-" Baylan began to question, but then something shifted.
All the previously dormant Dark Side energy in the temple rushed into the armor in a cacophonous maelstrom of howling shadows.
"THEN PERISH!"
Smirking, I called my lightsaber to my left hand with the Force and fell into a classic Niman single-blade opening stance. This would not require more.
"This one is mine, observe as I fight the Darkness, my Shadows."
Right hand folded across my chest, left holding the blade up and out, I prepared for my spectral opponent to make his first move.
The armor creaked as it stood, and with a crackling snap-hiss the oversized lightsaber ignited.
"Take notes, young Baylan," I called out, "You may wish to adapt this spirit's style and saber blueprints to your own some day."
Both the left gauntleted hand and a glowing black spectral right hand on the hilt, the armor came at me with what must have been the ancient precursor of Djem So's Falling Avalanche. It was just the slightest bit different in the footwork placement. Meant to prioritize damage over balance.
A pathetic trade-off, I inwardly scoffed as I responded. I curled my right hand into a fist as I reached out into the Force, seizing the left leg of the construct and pulling it off balance towards me. My left hand, holding my lightsaber twisted to the outside and whirled the blade around in a perfect Moulinette that scorched the outside pauldron of the armor.
Hmm…that armor was very resistant, likely treated with Sith Alchemy as I had seen in my vision, as opposed to Cortosis or Beskar.
As the lightsabers clashed back and forth and the duel progressed I was catching on to why Qel-Droma was able to kill Null. They had both been masters of Form V, specifically the ancient and aggressive version of Djem So. But this Sith Apprentice had ONLY ever practiced Djem So. Qel-Droma on the other hand had been proficient enough to mix Ataru acrobatics into his combat style. Giving him quite the edge in the fight.
However, I did not wish to break out of using pure single-bladed Niman for this fight. My opponent did not warrant nor deserve such techniques.
Thus, as I spun around a particularly clumsy overhead strike once more, I reached out and condensed the air around the armor into the consistency of molasses for the spirit. Force Slow allowed me the time to take three specific strikes to the back of the armor.
One to the back of the knee, accelerated with Kinetic Combat to crumple it like a tin can.
One to the shoulder joint of the left arm that was the primary hand controlling the lightsaber doing the same.
And finally a reverse-gripped downward thrust between where the helm and the plated back of the armor met. Imbued with the Force it allowed me to connect my mind to the consciousness of the spirit that coalesced in the core of the armor.
Using the physical contact through my lightsaber as a channel, I ripped the soul away from its power using Sever Force. A long buried technique that I had promised Master Jerec to never use on a living being.
Luckily, lingering Sith Spirits did not count as living beings. And in fact such phenomena were exactly why I had been able to convince Jerec to allow me to learn in the first place during the final year of my Padawan training with him.
With a howling shriek the maelstrom of dark energies that had been absorbed into the armor reversed course, spitting outward in waves.
Baylan was knocked flat even twenty feet back. Depa and Taron barely steadied themselves with the Force.
Meanwhile I had to quickly stab my lightsaber into the stone ground of the dais to hold my footing. Even then the sheer power of the explosion caused me to slide backwards ten feet myself, with my lightsaber drawing a large gouge in the stone platform.
When I lowered my right arm from where it covered my eyes all I saw was the pile of armor and the lightsaber laying strewn across the throne and upper dais.
"That was…something else." Malicos muttered under his breath.
With a hiss my lightsaber deactivated and I stood up straight.
I turned to look at Master Billaba, "You asked for serious, well there we have it."