The Mind Prison

Posted on Fri Mar 1st, 2019 @ 7:45am by Bomoor Thort & Thane & Amare

2,558 words; about a 13 minute read

Chapter: Chapter V: Unbound
Location: XoXaan's Temple, Korriban
Timeline: 0230 Hours (Local Time), Day Two

OLD

"More games," Thane 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 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.

NEW

The long-dead spirit of Dark Nihl had taken them deeper into the heart of Xoxaan's temple, into sections that were partly collapsed and hard to traverse. But the spectre that led Thane and Bomoor passed through all barriers as they seemingly did not exist in his plane of existence. To him, they still walked down the well-maintained halls of a living, powerful Sith Empire.

But, for the living pair, they had to duck and weave between pillars and rubble to keep up and, at one time, having to stop and move some debris in their path, which seemed to frustrate their guide.

"Why have you stopped!?" he moaned, "Quickly, just in here."

He swiftly disappeared into a side room just a short way further along the corridor. After exchanging a quick glance of frustration, the two former Jedi chucked away the last of the stone they were lifting and hurried to catch up.

When they entered the room, they found themselves in what seemed to be a relatively large office, with numerous bookshelves crowding around a central desk. While the books that once lined the shelves had practically turned to dust, various intricate metallic ornaments remained, some of which had similar detailing to the holocrons the pair possessed, although none of these objects had stood the test of time quite as well as those Force-imbued databases.

Nihl seemed to have been fiddling around with one of the shelves before then floating right through the rear wall and out of sight.

Thane and Bomoor paused for a moment to consider.

"Don't test my patience, acolytes. Come through to the lab!" His voice rang back through the walls.

"Secret door, I suppose," Bomoor observed to his friend, with a hint of amusement. It was an odd thing to be so close to the dead and yet still feel thousands of light-years apart.

Thane did not say anything, instead inclining his head in brief agreement as he continued to survey the room. Whilst a few cracked and inactive datapads were scattered amongst the ancient and crumbled tomes, the various surviving ornaments did not look especially like anything to Thane. Of the objects arrayed, however, he did notice a couple of ugly pieces of misshapen art.

Being as familiar with the cataclysmic Yuuzhan Vong War and its various facets as any other Jedi student - and having recently spent time on the still somewhat ravaged world of Ossus - the former Guardian recognised yorik coral with ease. Jagged and angular, yet with a decidedly organic appearance to it, the spiky little totems made a peculiar choice of display or study for most artisans, but Thane knew that the One Sith had adopted a certain degree of Yuuzhan Vong technology and artistry within their failed order.

One of the ornaments appeared to be the piece Nihl's shade had tinkered with.

With a gentle tug, the simple covert mechanism began clicking away within the stone wall. Twelve-hundred year old dust unsettled as a nearby shifted downwards, revealing a narrow tunnel that wound its way about a disjointed slab staircase. As in the main hall of XoXaan's temple, sconces lit themselves up automatically within, but they now glowed with a deeper and more ominous crimson glare.

Without needing to say anything to one another, the two living Force users followed the path of their befuddled host, stepping carefully along the ancient stairway into the deeper sanctum within. The temperature became noticeably warmer, even as the very obvious dark side presence within the Force left a cold gripping sensation within the pair. Within just a few moments, the stairs gave way to the aforementioned laboratory, being another chamber made of the same sharp and sandy stone of the rest of the fallen One Sith headquarters.

Although the initial appearance of the room reminded Thane of the troubling and nightmarish sanctum of Darth Cabal on Vaa, a more discerning look around countered that original assessment. Whilst there were indeed sketches and tubes littered about various tables and shelves, torn and smashed though many were, there was also almost a very personal element to the laboratory.

Where Cabal's nest had been a testament to his pursuit of undead permanence and small-minded (if gifted) tyranny, the chamber Darth Nihl had led them to was decorated with a selection of items that served more decorative or commemorative purposes. Most obviously, there were glass cabinets and pedestals with protective glass atop them at various junctures. Nearest to Thane and Bomoor, beside the entrance, was a pedestal with a white plasteel helmet. A 'T'-shaped black visor took centre place, and a fin ran along the top of the armour.

"It looks like Old Empire armour," Thane considered aloud, "but not quite, at the same time."

Bomoor paced over and investigated the cabinet, his own reflection was dimly seen in the old glass, with his own hammerhead form looking not dissimilar to the shape of the visor. He placed his hand against the display and attempted to get a surface reading of the object within.

He felt a great conflict tied to the owner of the armour: a mind instilled with a fierce loyalty but also a unique spirit that seemed to be somehow suppressed. There was something desperately sad about the life of this soldier that gave even this place of the Dark side some grounding.

Continuing the historical display was yet more yorik coral artistry - or so they first appeared. What appeared at first glance to be a winding piece of ornamental yorik was, upon closer inspection, an inspired interpretation of a lightsaber. Beneath it, and of a much grander scale, was something that Thane had been informed of by Darth Bane's holocron; a crystal furnace, albeit of a smaller scale.

Although the Reborn Jedi Order had inherited some of the New Jedi Order's issues surrounding the supply of such crystals, what with the Old Empire having destroyed many of the natural sources, Grand Masters Waay and Quellus had made concerted efforts to foster the development of naturally-occurring crystals. Even so, both and Bomoor had known that some furnaces - ones admittedly less steeped in the rigorous waves of the dark side - had been used by some of their former Jedi compatriots.

"This is a Jedi's lightsaber," Thane then drew Bomoor's attention from the small furnace to yet another pedestal and another hilt, only this one was of a much more traditional design. Admittedly, time had ebbed its natural sheen and clear lines, but its standard Jedi structure was unmistakable. He raised an eyebrow as he looked to the Ithorian. "Krayt's heirlooms?" He queried, knowing his friend had spent more time consulting with the former Dread Lord's holocron avatar.

Bomoor’s eyes widened in recognition as he drew near now seeing before him the items that had only been described by the holocron and in whatever historical documentation he had cobbled together.

“Almost certainly,” he agreed, “This was the blade of A'Sharad Hett, the Jedi Knight who eventually took on the mantle of Krayt, as you well know.”

Given that this blade was not within a case, Bomoor reached out and took the hilt in his hands, feeling its moderate weight and worn grips, much like those on the Ithorian’s own lightsaber. While the grips on this old Jedi weapon were practically disintegrated, some new strips and some polishing and the weapon could look like any other seen in the Reborn Order today.

Thane's attention was briefly drawn to an oversized reptilian skull adorning the far corner of the room, its jaws opened in a wide and menacing maw. Its remarkable size far dwarfed either of the former Jedi's own skulls, but before Thane could remark on its origins, their host interrupted them sharply.

“Those artefacts are not for your perusal, Acolytes!” Nihl’s voice rang out, reminding them of his presence in the room, “However, this particular item should be your primary concern right now.”

Putting down the hilt, the pair crept towards the ghost and stared at the object that was being presented to them. It was a large stone container with a somewhat pyramidal shape; however, the design and construction of this object was very different to the angular pyramids that seemed to adorn much of Sith architecture. The stone it was carved from was slightly sandy in colour and was engraved with what appeared to be three humanoid faces or masks arranged vertically on each side.

Thane stepped over to the container cautiously, reaching out within the Force in an effort to divine some information about the object. Whilst its archaic design was disparate to most of those employed by both the Sith of XoXaan's and Emperor Krayt's times, it was not wholly out-of-place in this museum-esque testament to the Dread Lord's legacy. When his efforts went entirely unrewarded, he scowled, turning to both Nihl's spectre and to Bomoor.

"Everything in this room - on this planet - is drenched in the Force," he said, even nodding to the ancient trooper helmet. "What is this, and why is it important?" For the moment, Thane refrained from probing too deeply, either spiritually or physically.

“You are right. Almost everything within this sanctuary is crafted with some essence of the Force,” Nihl stepped towards them slightly but still maintained a cautious gap between himself and the object, “You could say this box and those like it are a lesson to those who do not revere their connection to the Force: there was once an incredibly ancient race that grew to great heights with their deep connection to the Force. But, as they began to stop seeing the Force as an exalted privilege for the few, their species’ ability to connect with the Force slowly faded until they were deaf to it entirely.”

Nihl drew up towards Bomoor and spat towards him, “And what are we without the Force? Nothing!” he gave no time to respond, his words harsh and mocking, “These ancients began to envy the lesser species for their continued connection to the Force; initially attempting to control them with technology but eventually destroying themselves infighting over the tatters of their once great empire.”

He turned back and pointed at the old stone construction, “This object is the pinnacle of their vast arrogance towards their powers: vast Force-powered technology turned into destructive traps for the mind and machines that degrade the body. When their connection to the Force was lost, they clung to many such cursed items in their struggle to remain atop the other species, but it was too late as their knowledge of Force-craft had been lost and they were no greater than the species they enslaved. No being is whole without their spirit and no empire is infinite without the Force.”

Having listened with some interest to the tale of these long dead beings, Bomoor joined Thane beside the box and queried, attempting to continue the persona of a Sith acolyte, “So, what use is this box to Lord Krayt? Surely you did not bring us all the way here for a lesson in history.”

“History is key in warfare!” the spectre’s voice grew firm, “Never forget that we are in a time that may decide the future of this Empire. I have studied this artefact, and, within it, I have seen an ancient war much like our own. I am convinced that this battle from the past is the key to unlocking our present conflict. But I can never see how it concludes – it keeps repeating before it ends, and I know that someone must go in to break the cycle and conclude the war.”

Thane had found himself nodding approvingly at Nihl's words, impressed with the insight of the otherwise-befuddled ghost. "You are wise and powerful, my lord. We could gain great insight the lost ancient conflicts," he said, joining Bomoor in maintaining the acolyte facade, as well as inwardly wondering if a time would come in which others would refer to him as 'my lord' in such a manner. Looking over the surprisingly intricate details of the ages-old device, he could not deny his desire to peek within at this snapshot of a war long-forgotten. "But, how do we access it? Have you not tried to access it?"

Nihl swept up behind the pair, arching over them and looking down upon the device, “I intended to!” he announced, “I have come back here so… so many times… to see what could have been… to put things right but…”

The ghost turned away and almost seemed to shrink away slightly from the figure of the ferocious warrior Sith he had played during his lifetime, “…I am no longer whole. My path leads me here, but I can go no further.”

Thane and Bomoor stood awkwardly as the ghost continued down into his spiritual crisis: Nihl’s form shook and he seemed to gasp at whatever air there was in his ethereal plane. He turned back, and, to their surprise, the strong facial features of powerful-looking Nagai had weathered away, and an old man now looked at them.

“I thought that I would die in war, confronting my enemies face to face,” the shrunken apparition stated, “But when I felt our Lord Krayt’s death… I was shaken to the ground. Trying desperately to reform the Sith to avoid destruction: to go to ground and conquer the galaxy through infiltration, rather than force. But instead we faded away to nothing… nothing but madmen who dreamed of ideals that never came to be. I never saw a war again…”

“Then what do you seek in revisiting old wars and old wounds?” Bomoor now spoke, his curiosity making him speak outside of his adopted persona, “Your war has ended and this box changes nothing.”

Squinting at the Ithorion, Nihl seemed disturbed at the question, or perhaps simply irritated, “The box changes everything because this war changed everything for us. Was I right… or was I wrong? I cannot find out…”

The aura of the room suddenly flared to life and an energy once again flowed into the deceased being before them as he drew himself up again, “But you can!”

The two former Jedi felt a mighty tug as Nihl whipped out his hand and activated something within the stone casing of the ancient box. But their bodies stood still, almost calm, as the energy in the room faded and fell into darkness. The displaced spirit faded away until nothing was left but a Human and an Ithorian gawking at the silence.

But Thane and Bomoor were absent.

TBC

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