The Temple of XoXaan, Part II

Posted on Tue Feb 12th, 2019 @ 3:51pm by Thane & Bomoor Thort & Amare
Edited on on Fri Jul 26th, 2019 @ 1:29pm

3,219 words; about a 16 minute read

Chapter: Chapter V: Unbound
Location: XoXaan's Temple, Korriban
Timeline: 0200 Hours (Local Time), Day Two

OLD

The room seemed to shift slightly around them, and the air became heavier than before, there was a sense that a second realm had merged with their own: the world that they had only glimpsed before was now all around them.

A welter of voices, near and far, present and from aeons past, drowned both men’s thoughts. Raised in both praise and vehemence, they cheered and jeered at the audacious couple’s foray into their dark realm. Thane’s eyes, burning bright and golden, raised upwards to the high up ceiling of the chamber, and a twisted huskiness seized his voice as the final Sith words came to him effortlessly. Spying Bomoor to his side, Thane was sure even the Ithorian’s own eyes glinted with a reddened and unfamiliar malice, the once-Consular submitting his own will to the dark side in their gambit.

“A-HAH UR SU KA-HAAT. SU KA HARU AAT!”

NEW

The success of their blood offering and Thane’s reciting of the incantation was instant. All semblance of warmth left the chamber and a chill gust swept across the two Force users. A spectre, wrapped in a wispy blue aura but humanoid in appearance, began to pace down the stone stairs towards them. As it drew closer, they could see it was a pale-skinned male with black markings across his face. He seemed angry as he drew towards the pair.

“You there, acolytes!” his voice was loud but also distant, as though it stretched across a great distance, “What do you think you are doing deserting your positions. This is no time for complacency! We are being…”

The spirit faltered for a moment, trying to think. He was obviously confused, mistaking the two former-Jedi for some other beings he remembered, but also seemed to be mentally straining for his words. Now he was closer, he did not appear to be human; his pointed face and ears suggested he was Nagai, a race that even now was rarely seen in the Galactic community.

“…persecuted!” the ghostly vision announced with renewed vigour, “Darth Krayt… no, he is defeated… that cannot be… but I felt it happen.”

Thane withdrew his hand from Bomoor’s, doing his best to settle himself into this new and cold reality that had consumed the world around them as he examined the approaching shade, some evident remnant of Krayt’s One Sith.

“My lord,” he greeted the Nagai with an inclination of his head, mussed hair loosing some Korriban dust with the gesture. “The darkness has taken your senses,” he explained, finding himself further taken aback by the success of his incantation, as well as the very presence of a true spirit. Even after the confrontation with Darth Cabal’s spectre on Vaa, it was still unsettling to face a true ghost of the past. What unsettled him further, however, was the sound of his voice. Although he could not appropriately explain the sensation, it was akin to both speaking and hearing within a sound-occluding chamber – thoroughly unnatural.

Thane began to stretch out with the Force, noting that the Nagai spectre had a very real and detectable warped presence before them, even if somewhat less tangible than either his or Bomoor’s, until yet another voice pierced the queer silence.

“Petulant child!” Hissed the new voice, and to their side appeared another figure, shrouded much as the Nagai in wisps of blue light and smoke. A slender form, this second shade was female and pale-skinned. Concealed within a low hood, a youthful face with slender cheeks was crowned by a shock of short and unruly white hair. “They come here not for you. They-“ The woman paused, suddenly distracted mid-sentence. “They… they… What news of Corbos?”

“These have been troubled times for the Sith,” Thane decided to answer both figures, projecting his voice through the miasma of this convergence they found themselves within. “The Jedi have culled their numbers through numerous crusades and purges since their first defiance of the Code.” He paused before his next sentence, thinking again on Bomoor’s perception of his chosen path. The Ithorian’s knowledge and understanding was admirable, but Thane was certain there was only a limit to Bomoor’s support of bold claims and beliefs. “But we are returning, renewed once more.”

There was a low baritone chuckle several feet behind the two ex-Jedi Knights. "You know, I really think you might be right about that." All in the chamber, both alive and dead, bore witness to the Sith Lord that history had forgotten. The spirit was an ethereal blue and white image middle-aged pureblood Sith man of above average height, athletic build, and slicked back black hair frocked in long dark robes. Over one of his glowing golden eyes was a silver monocle that held a lens polished to a crystal perfect shine which he straightened to get a better look at the first potential Sith in centuries. "What a delightfully unusual pair you two are," he added with a smirk. "Darth Archonus at your service. It appears a convention of my fellow deceased megalomaniacs has commenced and no one invited me. How inconsiderate. I'm quite good at parties."

"Pretender!" The female shade admonished, recoiling at the third arrival. "Tinkerer and traitor! You are no Dark Lord. You speak falsely, a sly heathen within the ranks of darkness."

"I concur," Archonus answered the wicked femme, "I am a tinkerer of life and the possibilities of existence...and I do so relish being called a 'sly heathen'. Has an appealing sense of mystery to it."

This red-skinned figure was different from the others, Thane could tell. Most certainly as foreboding a figure as the others, he nevertheless carried none of the restraints of the others' broken minds, at least as seemed obvious from both his presence and his words. And, despite himself, the humour struck him.

"Self-awareness is a trait so sorely lacking in both Jedi and Sith alike, Lord Archonus," Thane opined, regarding the Pureblood with a glimmer in his eyes, once again their usual hue, reflecting the unearthly glow of the trio of Sith spectres. He recognised the man's species, even if he had never seen one in the flesh - a fact which remained true to this moment, in reality.

"You may be right about the Jedi, but don't presume to think you understand the Sith," Archonus said in a more formal and harsher tone. "I sense great potential in you, but there is much for you to learn. Now, tell us: Why him?" He pointed a long accusing finger at Bomoor. "Why tether yourself to Ithorian cattle? The very presence of one of its kind is an affront to this hallowed place."

A deep ire began to rise within Thane at Archonus' words, even as he maintained his composure. "Interesting query, coming from the echo of an extinct species," he replied icily. "It would be folly to overlook the talents and insight of another simply due to being wedded to outmoded and narrow-minded philosophies - it would make us no more than the Jedi or their vaunted Republic. Is change not the way of the dark side, Darth Archonus?" He challenged in turn. "Of the Sith? A fool judges birth over merit."

"He is not Jedi," the female spectre now spoke up again, gliding towards Bomoor with a sceptical, interested gaze. Coming to hover beside him, long and spindly fingers appeared from within her wisping robes, tracing the outline of the Ithorian's elongated trunk. "He is... other." She now twisted herself around to face Bomoor more directly, an odd, but somehow dispassionate smile pulling at her porcelain features. "That is how it began, young one. How it ended... why they cast us out..."

“I am glad to be ‘other’”, Bomoor stated defiantly with narrowed eyes, which gave a brief glance at the Pureblood Sith spectre that had insulted him before looking back to the woman, “Perhaps once, we were quite similar: cast out from the Jedi Order, but do not assume I will follow the same path as your dark Jedi. I am here to learn and grow, not to submit.”

As the exchange went on, the Nagai ghost continued to appear confused, wringing his hands as though he expected them to disappear before him.

Thane looked from the exchange between the female Sith and Bomoor back to Archonus, his curiosity piqued by the figure, who seemed amused by the situation on some level beyond the others. "You seem more grounded in the present than your companions, Lord Archonus."

"A recent development," the fallen lord said as he contemplatively held his hands together behind his back and leisurely paced around the non-Jedi duo. "If my suspicions are correct, it would seem I have you to thank for it." He emphasized "you" whilst glaring at Thane.

Thane frowned, his fascination with the aware Sith spectre tempered just as equally by his frustrated cynicism with it. "How so, my lord?" He asked, maintaining the veneer of deference.

"Picture this," Archonus replied as he strode past the scowling female spirit, "from out of a faraway desert there came a lone water-breather. A lost young woman, her body battered and famished, her heart stripped of hope, her mind a tangled mess of feelings and unpleasant memories. Then, she is captured, held by an acolyte of mine whom had the misfortune of finding my sole surviving relic linked to me. The young woman of the sea is made to put it on, and then...I am myself again. Through her, the Force found me, gave me back my mind and a new purpose. And then I learn, much to my surprise, there is a man, with his pet Ithorian, who is brimming with the power of the Dark Force. It was you, young Thane, that sent this...'sea witch' to me, and now, as fate would have it, you are all here, together, in this place. The will of the Force is profound indeed! But lo...for shame. Your little apprentice...she has fallen! She put up quite a valiant fight against my terentatek, did you both proud I admit. The little scoundrel even used knowledge she stole from me to stay alive, but I can smell her blood. Her body is broken in such tantalizing ways, and if that doesn't kill her, the poison most certainly will. She is dying in my underground lab, but you cannot save her. The way is sealed. You brought her here to die. Her failure is your failure. You are a failed Sith before you even became one." His subsequent laughter was a vocal stab of mockery at Thane, and self-indulgence at Coda's suffering.

“What was that?!” Bomoor questioned with urgency as he attempted to wave the pale female spectre away to see Archonus, “What have you done with Coda?”

"What I have done?" the Sith spirit said with feigning emotional hurt. "Such aggression in your tone, herdling. And yet, you are as complicit in her fate as your friend here. I can sense the flow of feelings that bind you together in the Force. She comes between that bond. Those beady black eyes, her emotional tantrums, the drama! Her presence disrupted your brotherhood. You should be thankful. I am doing you both a favour. With the exception of the great Sorzus Syn..." he turned to the lady spirit nearby with narrowed eyes, "...females cannot be trusted." Ignoring her reaction, he added to Bomoor and Thane, "Only men of lordly calibre, through the power of the dark side, have the strength and presence of mind to fight, to command, and to dominate. Only such a man can bring order to chaos. History has proven that the ideals of peace and democracy are the ways of the foolish and the feminine. It is weakness. It is folly. It is the downfall of the Jedi."

Thane felt a welling of defensive fury rising with him, threatening to burst through the collected calm he had adopted during the discourse. It unsettled him, for - putting aside Darth Archonus' jibes and warnings surrounding Coda's well-being - the ancient Dark Lord spoke truth. And then, he realised, it was not his own frustration that he was feeling, but instead that of Bomoor's, who spoke before Thane even had an opportunity to react.

“I have the right to show aggression in the face of some bigoted Sith who sees fit to place a young woman in danger,“ the Ithorian ignited his viridian blade, which seemed to draw a wide grin from the spectral lady, who stepped back slightly and piqued the interest of the Nagai, “If you know so much about us, you should know that Coda is far stronger than she appears. As for the ‘downfall of the Jedi’, I no longer concern myself with them so do not attempt to rile me by talking about the folly of peace and cooperation.”

"Strong in the Force, perhaps," Archonus remarked, arms folded across his chest, completely dismissive of the deadly blaze of Bomoor's weapon, "but in her mind? Ha! You speak in her defense. I admire that. Loyalty is everything, but what use is it if the one you play advocate for hides the truth from you? You think you know her, but do you really? Does she even know herself, I wonder? But no matter. Her life and my time runs short. I must go now to feed my pet. Tonight, we shall dine on Nautolan soup!"

Archonus faded completely from sight with a cackling maniacal laughter.

"This is how it began..." Sorzus Syn repeatedly quietly, hissing with a sly grin as she glided about behind Bomoor with menacing intent.

Thane simply looked at Bomoor with thoughtful eyes, ignoring the remaining two spirits that continued to haunt them as he considered Archonus' words and did his utmost to suppress the wellspring of righteous indignation flowing from his friend. It was also taking a certain degree of restraint to not react to Bomoor's flare of fury, being quite an uncommon display from the kindly man, but not entirely unheard of, admittedly. For, as Archonus had said; loyalty is everything - but how far could that be strained? If Zaracoda had indeed disrupted their brotherhood, how damaging would it be if she had fallen in the name and on the whim of Serus, fallen Jedi Knight?

The doubts were real, and they were painful. They could become open wounds, as Bomoor's former loyalty to the Jedi Council had threatened to be, that could open and fester without a considered and methodical response, and a weakness to be exploited. Deceit was a dangerous game for friends to play with one another, and Thane knew that it fell to him to respect and honour the faith Bomoor had shown him already, even in the light of recent revelations. He owed it to them both to have the courage of his convictions, to give meaning to the dark path he had set them upon, and, most importantly, to understand those very convictions, lest he betray the trust the Ithorian had placed in him.

"I have not felt her pass," he reassured Bomoor, hand gesturing to disengage his weapon. Whilst the connection between Thane and Coda was not as spiritually intimate as the bond between him and Bomoor, Thane was certain that the tethering of master and apprentice would have alerted him to the Nautolan's death. He understood it to be a profound experience, inexplicable to any that had not suffered it. "These spirits... I fear they play games, so caught up are they in wanting to carry their forgotten legacies into the present, desperate to have some impact on the world they left behind."

Thane turned his attention to the fumbling Nagai nearby, the fallen Dark Lord's appearance a confusing contrast against his macabre and deadly visage. "We need to stay focused," he added.

Bomoor disengaged his blade, much to the disappointment of Syn’s spirit, who seemed fascinated with the Ithorian’s motives, “You are right, she is alive of course,” he spoke the words but still felt the concern, which fed back into his Force-bonded friend, “I was simply not prepared for such a life-like apparition.”

The especially pale spectre of the Nagai brought himself up straighter, “You will not ignore your superior, acolytes!” his ethereal voice resonated through the hallways, “I am Darth Nihl…”

He looked down, mouthing the name out as if uncertain again for a second before continuing, “Nihl, yes. The two of you will accompany me as I go to secure the relic. Lord Krayt believes it holds great power that could destroy our enemies. Quickly now!”

Now dead-set on some course within his fragmented mind, the spectre of Darth Nihl shot past them, his feet seeming to sweep across the ground, unaffected by the weight of the world Thane and Bomoor stood in.

“We should press forward with him, I believe,” Bomoor suggested, now recovering from his outburst at Archonus, “He is clearly a lost spirit, but this Darth might still lead us towards the Kaiburr shard and, if not, perhaps where Coda has found herself if she has indeed entered the temple."

"Yes," Thane replied somewhat mindlessly, sceptical eyes having followed the fallen successor to Emperor Krayt as he wafted beyond their physical sight. With a small glance back towards the final spectre still haunting their mundane presence, he asked, "Does my lady have no parting words of macabre wisdom, or will she be joining us for our adventure into Lord Nihl's purgatory?" Even with his admiration and muted awe at conversing with such genuine articles of Sith ancestry, the Human's dry sarcasm was apparent, still apparently unwilling to allow such audacious shows of pride go unpunished. Despite that, he offered the dead woman a glimmer of genuine fascination.

"He loves you, you know," Sorzus Syn teased in turn, drawing her face backwards into her hood, leaving only two glittering golden orbs staring back at the two men as she began gliding eerily backwards. As she did, her form appeared to melt into the stone, but her disembodied voice could still be heard hissing and echoing about the chamber. "Just as she loved you."

A cackle that screamed from all corners of the temple crowned the Sith Lord's passing comment, the flames of the various braziers dancing this way and that in tempo with Syn's laughter.

Thane scowled darkly after her, as an icy sensation slithered through his chest. "More games," he remarked coldly to the onlooking Bomoor, the Caanan's lip curling disdainfully.

With Bomoor attempting now to block out the taunting of the spirits, lest he find himself riled again, he did not notice how Syn’s words caused some mild disturbance within Thane.

“Yes, games…”, the Ithorian agreed plainly, not looking around at the after-effects of the fallen Jedi’s spirit exiting the room, but rather setting forth to follow Nihl as he marched on into the dark hallways of the ancient Sith temple.

The two hurried onwards, towards whatever Relic the ghost spoke of, not knowing that the games ahead could cost them their lives or, at the very least, their bodies.

TBC

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