Set shortly after what goes bump in the day
Sentinel's Rest has been saved. Hooray.
A town built upon the skulls and bones of the innocent and populated by genocidal murderers and their families still stands. The butchers will continue to enjoy the fruits of the land they stole and fertilised with innocent blood. I should've let the vengeful spirits overrun it and pay back their tormentors in kind. Trap their minds in the agony they inflicted upon the xenos who once dwelt here. But it wouldn't have been…strategic.
Now it is too late. Sibylla's machine has spawned a barrier that wards the town. For now at any rate. I have acquired fame and a lightsabre. I am seen as blessed by the Vaderites…or perhaps as a threat. In a few days it will be decided whether they purge or exalt me. I have time for one last quest on Chios before I must depart. Naturally I'm using it productively…by venturing into the forest of horrors.
Though brief my investigation into the paranormal occurrences on this isle has taught me a few things about the Bone Forest. It wasn't just vengeful spirits mindlessly lashing out against Vaderite thugs. Kal gave them focus, but even without him there was an intelligence guiding the ghosts. Within the Bone Forest lies a nexus of power. So I shall bargain with it…if it doesn't devour me the time way it devoured the Vaderites who fell under its spell.
Bogan help me.
"And to all doubts and questions the apprentice of the coming Sith Imperium knows only one answer: But I have the will!" Perhaps the only line from Glorious Conflict that has some value. I have the will indeed. The will to go to whatever lengths are needed to do what must be done.
I steel myself as I approach the grim, foreboding forest. Ruins have been swallowed by undergrowth. Bone-like fungus grows here. There is a foul stench in the air, like rotted meat. I hear a voice from the ether. "I ask of you that that which I say to you in this circle be really only heard and not ever discussed." Sharp, smug, female. Lachesis. "We were faced with the question: what about the women and children? – I decided to find a clear solution to this problem, too. I did not consider myself justified to exterminate the men – in other words, to kill them or have them killed and allow the avengers of our sons and grandsons in the form of their children to grow up." I hear loud clapping and applause.
I cough painfully when black smoke suddenly floods my weak lungs. I call upon the Force to control my breathing, but try as I might, I cannot keep the smoke out. My lungs feel like they are on fire. I stumble, falling to the ground as I cough, and cough, and cough. My eyes burns and sting. A wave of pain surges through my chest. As dark spots appear around my eyes and I struggle to remain conscious, I see ash falling from the sky. Smoke rises from a building.
"That's just the oven, lass. Don't worry. Tuesday," a masculine, disinterested voice says. I look up, and see a middle-aged man in a blue police uniform with a Vaderite armband on his right arm standing above. "They burn the cripples, the terminally ill, the work-shy xenos. Drags on the state," he shrugs casually. He vanishes, and I can breathe again.
To reach the forest looming ahead of me, I must cross over a bridge. It creaks and groans beneath me. It cannot be my weight. Everyone keeps nagging me about not eating enough. As if I can eat at banquets where Vaderite bigwigs stuff themselves, after I've seen starving slave children with bellies bloated with hunger and emaciated workerd with bones and ribs poking out of their flesh. After I've seen children get shot in the back of the head for stealing a loaf of bread because it's that or starving to death.
Suddenly there's a lot of commotion. I blink as I hear a myriad alien tongues. Gungans and a few Nautolans are crossing the bridge. They have carts filled with ware – various fish, liquor, gems and such. The scent of spices fills my nostrils. And some soldiers are escorting xenos or humans who have been shackled and collared. Slaves. Among the group are dignitaries dressed in colourful robes. To my surprise, I see a few humans scattered among the throng. I turn, hearing xenos bark commands, and I see Togruta soldiers dressed in resplendent armour, flanking a Togruta female who is dressed as a noble or diplomat.
The apparitions walk past or through me. The approaching xenos bow before the Togruta, displaying offerings. Stepping forward, the noble claps, helps a Gungan merchant up and embraces him. Behind them I can see the outlines of a flourishing market. Men and women of a myriad xenos species are bartering, and making merry. Parents have brought their children. Xenos children are playing in the streets and in the water, laughing happily. Where there were once broken ruins, I see buildings. Then suddenly there is a roar of explosions. I wince, looking up. The sky above me has darkened. Dark grey clouds have blotted out the sun. And the air is filled with the staccato of machine guns.
The landscape shifts. KEC men and Imperial Army soldiers are raining down heavy machine gun fire on xenos fleeing into the waters. Mothers clutch their infants, trying to shield them from the hailstorm. Nautolans and Gungans dive into the waters to escape, but the Vaderites keep firing. There is a loud ringing sound when mortar shells are suddenly fired into the waters. Xenos warriors fire primitive slugthrowers and hurl spears at the murderers, desperately trying to keep them at bay and allow their fellows to escape. Gunships roar down from the sky, meting out death and destruction. Xenos choke from clouds of gas.
I can just stand there, as if frozen in time while the massacre unfolds before my eyes. From what used to be a market, plumes of flame rise into the dark sky. And then the guns have fallen silent. Soldiers walk about on both sides of the river across the shore and in the ruins. Bodies are fished out of the water, and the men take…pictures. A bleeding Nautolan boy is dragged out his hiding place. Without the slightest reaction, an Imperial officer draws a pistol and shoots him in the head. He's splattered with blood, and takes out a handkerchief to casually wipe his helmet clean, then walks away. When captives are rounded to be killed, several soldiers laugh. "Kill and count! Kill and count!" I hear some call.
Eventually the apparitions dissipate. The water flows as if filled with gore. Bodies float through the foetid, dark red water. The bridge is blackened and covered in mould. I suppress a shudder, and walk on. There are skulls on the parapets and arch. Togruta, Nautolan, Gungan, Gamorrean, human. I swear wherever I look, they are there. Watching me. I take a deep breath. My flesh hand feels clammy and sweaty. Here and there I hear wails, and gunshots. One moment I see watchtowers, barbed wire and angry searchlights, and hear screams when captives throw themselves at the electrified fence. Then I see the trees again.
Giant trees envelope me as I step into the woods. It's not so much a a trail as a moss-covered clearing through the bush. Suddenly, I hear the sound of creaking trees and rustling branches over the wind. I turn and I swear the vegation has shifted, for where there was once a path out, I only see a huge tree. The leaves are red, and faces have been carved into the trunk. Spectral shapes manifest around it. They make no move…but they watch me. No matter where I look, I stare into their cold eyes. All are wounded in some way. Here the lekku of a Togruta have been mutilated, there a Gungan has had their long ears cut off or a bullet wound in their skull, or blood is pouring out of the eyes of a Nautolan.
I breathe in deeply. Instinctively, my metal hand reaches for my lightsabre. Then suddenly pain flares in my stump, making me wince. And there is a loud wail that forces me to clutch my ears in pain. It's like dozens of souls crying out in unending anguish. Blood drips down from the faces carved into the trunk, as if they are crying.
The body of a human, bound and gagged, lies before the tree. His shirt has been torn and he is bleeding. He wears the dark robes of a Sith. Maggots and worms crawl all over him. I have to keep myself from fliching when I see there are entrails hanging from the leaves. "Shadow of the sky-woman. Sith. Why have you come?" It is not a single voice, rather several speaking in unison. A cold shiver runs down my spine when the ethereal presence touches my mind.
The tree sways in the breeze. The creatures that have been crawling over the bound and gagged Vaderite quickly disperse, as the earth seems to come alive before my eyes. Roots rise from the depths of the earth, grabbing him. The Vaderite howls, struggles and thrashes, but it is in vain. Soon even his mouth has been covered. He cannot even scream when his body is pulled deep into the earth. And then he has suddenly vanished. The tree remains though.
The face has…morphed. When I look upon it, I see…Tara's. And I see her bloodied corpse hanging from the tree. I grit my teeth, sweat pouring down my forehead and perspiration gathering on my hands. Firith's head lies on the ground before my feet, staring at me. "Murderer. Betrayer."
"Yes," I say quietly, as I walk on. There are bones everywhere. The trees have grown to such a size that I can no longer see the sky. Darkness closes in on me. I try to reach out with the Force, but my senses are clouded. Shadowy tendrils manifest inside the darkness, trying to grasp me.
Roots rise from beneath the earth, trying to wrap themselves around my legs. I see faces inside the earth, their gaze contorted in expressions of hatred. "Bury her! Bury her!" they chant. "Bury her alive! Make her feel our pain!" Hundreds upon hundreds of voices scream – men, women, children. I struggle in their embrace, fear gripping me like a vice. The Force feels so distant but through an act of will I manage to manifest a flame, burning away roots restraining me.
Crimson Talon ignites with a snap-hiss, producing a scarlet beam that illuminates the darkness a little bit. Clumsily, I slash at the tendrils to keep them at bay. But more and more close in. And so I have no choice but to run. Deeper and deeper into the darkness. The fog rolling in is so thick I can barely see anything. I stumble over a tree trunk, hitting my head. Looking up, I find myself in front of an unusually large, gnarled tree. I flinch when I see the body of a Nautolan child has been nailed to the trunk.
"You should not have come here, Sith," a deep, rasping voice proclaims, and suddenly a noose reaches down from the tree, catching me by grasping my flesh hand and hauling me up. Something snaps in my shoulder, and I cry out in anguish.
My lightsabre falls to the ground. Ere I can reach out with the Force, it has been swallowed by the soil. Held up high in the air by the noose, I see Vaderite thugs dangling from tree branches with nooses around their necks. The Force feels far from me, too far to call upon. And then I see him. If it had not been for his lekku and montrals, I would not have recognised him as a Togruta, for his body bears a greater resemblance to a skeleton. He wears a crown upon his head. It's a circlet made of bronze and iron, adorned with two howling Akk Dogs. The Lost King. I'd thought him a myth. Evidently not. "Now you'll face judgement." He raises a blood-soaked glaive in his skeletal hand.
"Wait! I've…come to bargain!"
His laughter is without mirth. "You want to beg for your life, human? Where was this when you helped the rasping Sith block us from our hunt and imprisoned our child? Why then? When my children begged for their lives, did you spare them? When your scientists sewed their heads together? When they cried in agony as their lekku was shorn off? When they were gassed? Buried alive? You don't deserve to live."
As he speaks, images flash through my mind. Of terror, fear, and injustice. I see it all. I take a breath. "No, I don't," I say quietly.
"What did you say?"
"I don't deserve to live. I'm not begging for my life…but to take the lives of many Vaderites." Apparations of xenos children manifest around me. All blood-stained and wounded. A Gungan boy looks up to me, dressed in dirty rags.
Ectoplasmic blood drops down his cheeks. He points a spectral finger at me. Realisation dawns upon me as it all comes back. The children are locked in a dark room after their parents are dragged away. An Amidala Corps woman forces them to eat a cake filled with poison. KEC men bayonet them. Then they're dumped in a mass grave. Flash forward, and the spirits assault the Vaderite hotel to make the 'great and good' feel their pain. But Sibylla is there with a device to bury them for good…
"We know her."
"Speak, Piap. What vile sins has she committed?"
"She was there. She stood by…while the Rasping Sith took Shada from us!" I can hear my heart thumping inside my chest. "But…she warned us about the Sith's machine! She helped us get out."
This seems to give him pause, and he lowers his glaive. Then his cold, skeletal hand touches my forehead. I feel a full-body shiver as if ice is flooding my veins. The sensation grows more and more intense. Overwhelming my weakened defences, he invades my mind. I don't try to resist. Instead I let him see everything. Every dark secret. Everything I've done, everything I feel.
The ice fills me for a long moment before a long chuckle. "At first I thought you a coward begging to be spared by being a traitor. But now I sense you have been a traitor for a long time. What say you, traitor, if we make a pact with you will you betray it too? I can reave many skulls by taking the foolish and careless - what can a weakling like you give me?"
"My hate, my spite...my access. You hate the Vaderites for what they did to you. You hate the 'ordinary, innocent humans' for going along with it, for facilitating, for profiting from it. So do I. I am no warrior, I'm weak and frail in body. All my life I've worn a mask...because otherwise I will die. What do I want? For them to see what I saw. To feel what your people suffered when they murdered them. You can kill me now, you can reave the foolish, arrogant and stupid...if they wander into the forest since the town is blocked for you now. Now maybe you'll find a way around the barrier in time, but guess what, it will all be covered up and forgotten. You want justice, true justice? Help me carry the echo of your suffering into the Imperial heartland. You cannot reach them...but I will. Let's bring the echo of the one Bone Forest them. Let's make their whole world burn. You can reap me when my quest is done if you still find me deserving of death."
"You are either very bold, or very foolish, human. Why do you need our aid for this - do you seek our approval and forgiveness?" he growls. "There will be none until you have reaped a human for every lost soul of this realm. So what is it you want, little Sith. Be swift, lest I decide your head should adorn my bridge!"
"I neither deserve nor want forgiveness. I want fire and blood. The power to make the humans' world burn. I want to cast all the Vaderites built into the fire. Now I'm at your mercy. You can kill me and add another skull to the pile…and nothing will change. You'll continue to be a phantom, powerless outside your forest. Or you can help me," I smile coldly, baring my teeth like a predator. "The choice is yours, Your Grace."
He chuckles darkly. "As you say, human. We will grant you some of our hatred and our knowledge, but know that until you prove yourself it will wound you too. Prove yourself worthy or consign yourself to eternity here!"
I nod slowly. "Then let one of your own accompany me. I have a gem in my pocket that can serve as an anchor. Let their strength fuel mine, let their hatred burn inside me."
The leaves sigh, whispering to each other. For a long, drawn-out moment the Lost King just stares at me, as if in silent communion. Then without warning the noose is loosened and I fall to the ground. "So it shall be," he declares.
As I look, groaning, an apparition has manifested in front of me. A Gungan female clad in dirty, battered armour. She is missing an ear, and her face bears a nasty scar. Her yellow eyes are fierce. Her stance and bearing are that of a warrior. She holds an atlal in one hand and a blood-stained axe in the other. "I am Morgak. I shall join you, Sith. Through me, you shall be forever bound to the Bone Forest. I shall give you the power to make your foes see the world through our eyes, to suffer as we did…and I shall make sure you never ever forget."
I nod, and take the amethyst gemstone out of my pocket. "I accept these terms." There is no wind. White roots rise from the depths of the earth, shimmering faintly with a pale light. They begin twining around my arms and legs. But I'm not afraid anymore.
"The pact must be sealed with blood," the Lost King growls.
"I have a knife. Tell me what to do."
"Place the gem before the tree. Carve at the bark with your knife, then cut your hand and place it upon the bark," the Lost King commands.
I take my knife in my metal hand, wincing in pain from the damage done to my dislocated left shoulder, and awkwardly carve at the bark. I takes some time, but I carve a simple, yet also graceful pair of eyes. Then I slice into the palm of my flesh hand. As blood drips from my wound, I place it upon the bark. The eyes transform into weeping, dark rivulets. The leaves rustle and whisper.
Blood.
Fire.
Sacrifice.
Yes.
YES.
A mouth forms a grim smile upon the tree bark. Blood drips out of it…and tremendous energy floods my body through the roots. I cry out, feeling as if my soul is being ripped from my body, pulled out by tendrils of energy. Suddenly I can see myself from the outside, as if I have truly been parted from my shell. Hungry spirits surround me, waiting to consume me.
Gungans, Nautolans, Togrutas, Gamorreans, Twi'leks and many more. I see them all in the manner they died. Some bleed from gunshots or blades, others have distensed tongues from gas, others are on fire. Many lack limbs or other appendages. I see bombings, I don't just see them being rounded up and whipped by uniformed and armoured men as they are herded in squalid barracks surrounded by barbed wire-topped walls like beasts. I see them foam from the mouth, bleed from the eyes and suffocate to death from gas in sealed chambers, their bodies convulsing violently. I feel it with every fibre of my being. I don't try to fight it; I don't shield myself; I let myself feel it all. A myriad spectral hands touch me. For a few brief moments, my consciousness is one with theirs. I see through a thousand eyes, hear words in a myriad strange tongues.
Morgak's mouth curls into a dark, grim smile. Her spectral shape dissolves into a cloud of black that is pulled into the gem. And abruptly my consciousness is shoved back into its body. It is deeply disorientating. I saw the world through a thousand eyes, but now I only open mine. My limbs feel like lead, as if I haven't moved them in ages. The roots no longer ensnare me. The Lost King, and the shades are gone. But there is a presence at the back of my mind, like a bird perched on my shoulder. I feel the presence of Morgak. The gemstone glows in the darkness when I painfully bend to pick it up. I'll have to shape it into a ring. Dark power courses through my body. "We...Are…One." The gem and I are bonded now.
I can't say how much time has passed when I finally make my way out of the woods. All I know is that it is dark. Damn, my shoulder hurts. Honna says nothing when I return. All she does is open the passenger seat, give me a one-over and scrutinise my injuries, then get into the car and take off. We live in not particularly companionable silence. Morgak is quiet throughout our journey. But through the gem I can feel her presence at the back of my mind. Her anger as the ruins vanish, and we pass pristine farmhouses with barns and prosperous fields. Land stolen from the xenos so the murderers could grow rich as settlers. A cool breeze brushes against my skin when I lower the window for some fresh air.
As the groundcar nears Sentinel's Rest, and I perceive a faint glow in the dark sky, I find myself worried. Will Morgak be able to pass through the shield? Will her presence trigger some sort of alarm? "Fear not, ape. I'm bound to the gem and you. The Rasping Sith's machine won't keep me out."
"That's reassuring…wait, you're calling me an ape?"
"It's what your kind is. Hairless apes who should've stuck to living in trees and pulling lice out of each other. At least then you didn't murder children."
"I almost prefer 'Sith'."
"Your preferences aren't my problem. Only our mission."
I can tell this is not going to be easy. "Your manner of speech is strange…for a Gungan. Shouldn't you be saying 'yousa' a lot?"
Suddenly I feel a wave of fury. The sensation is so overpowering I wince and rub my temples, feeling a painful throbbing. "What do you think I am? A blathering simpleton raised in a zoo? My people have a language, a culture. Until you destroyed it. So who is the savage?"
"We both know the answer. My words were chosen poorly. I haven't…interacted with many Gungans who weren't slaves." I cringe. She's right...I condemn the Vaderites, and I made the same assumptions without knowing.
"Yes, whatever."
"Will you tell me about it one day?"
"What?"
"Your people, your culture."
"So you can mock it?"
"No...so you can teach me why I'm wrong."
"Perhaps. But not until I know you deserve it. I am your watcher, not your friend, ape. Have you given thought as to how you'll conceal my presence? I have no wish to be left adrift and cut off outside the collective because you got sloppy."
Now I'm in safer territory. "By hiding you in plain sight. A Sith carrying alchemised items giving off dark vibes around is expected. If someone senses your presence I'll just say it's the ghost of a lesser being I imprisoned to punish them for their sins." I smile coldly. "I suppose once in a while you'll have to pretend to be in agony."
"Lovely, I must provide amusement for the hairless apes. Very well, if it means you'll be useful a while longer."
We're stopped at the gates of the KEC headquarters. The armour-clad soldiers check the papers Honna hands over to them, then gasp in surprise when they see me. "Oh…my lord…we weren't expecting you.." a young junior officer sputters.
"It's alright, soldier. What's the situation?" I ask as I step out.
"Everything's quiet, my lord. No disturbances. Lord Laskaris was looking for you," he frowns as he sees my strained shoulder and blood. "What happened to you, my lord?"
"Oh…that….I sensed a spirit out beyond the bounds of the shield. Don't worry, the shield is intact. But it posed a threat to anyone outside it. I bested the demon with the Dark Father's gift, but it fought back."
The minion looks awed. "You're truly blessed by the Vader, my lord."
I pat him on the shoulder. "High and low, we all do our part to serve His will. Carry on, soldier." I feel Morgak's scorn, her words resonate inside my mind. The gem glows aintly. "How easily the lies come to you, little serpent. It is enough to foil this witless fool, but it is possible that there are Sith not so easily fooled."
"I know that for a fact. One of them is the Rasping Sith."
I feel her hatred so strongly I have trouble separating it from my own. "The enchainer. The companion of the Angel of Death. They must suffer."
"Yes. But patience. We can't strike yet…but soon."
As we make our way inside, I imagine a city burning, Vader statues being torn down, and Imperial citizens shrieking in terror. It's a pleasing image. "We're going to change the world," I mentally reach out to her, and I can sense the image pleases her, too. I will teach them grief; I will teach them helplessness. We shall have revenge.
