Private A Dance of Shadows and Blood

[Madalena Antares]

. : Felucia : .
: The Ruins of an old Wild Hunt spot : ​

The air was thick with spores, drifting lazily through shafts of filtered sunlight that barely pierced the towering fungal canopies. Giant bioluminescent mushrooms pulsed faintly with otherworldly colors, casting an eerie glow over cracked walls and twisted metal half-swallowed by creeping vines. The scent of decay mingled with the sharp tang of alien flora, a reminder that this jungle thrived on death as much as life.

Madalena's boots made no sound on the soft, spongy ground, coated in layers of moss and fungal growth. She moved like a shadow through the alien wilderness that had claimed what was once a bastion of the Wild Hunt. She could no longer recall who or whether any had laid claim to the planet at the time, but the outpost was apparently still there. In her days, it had only served temporary lodging.

Scavengers scattered into the undergrowth at her approach, their eyes wide with a mixture of reverence and terror. They dared not challenge her, not here, not amid these silent witnesses of history.

She stopped beside a broken pillar etched with fading sigils, remnants of a blood oath for the Hunt, long forgotten by the galaxy but etched indelibly into her mind. A spore cloud drifted up as she brushed a gloved hand over the carvings, tiny motes sparkling in the dim light like stars in a dead sky.

Time had not been kind. Names had been erased. But debts lingered, as stubborn and persistent as the fungal webs weaving through the ruins.

And of course, her reason for being here at all. Her damn sister. Ten years, the two had spent beyond the rim. In that time, fourty years had passed within the galaxy itself. But for her, it was ten years of being with her sister. Of finally living the sibling life that had been stolen when her dimension ceased to exist. It had not all been milk and honey, of course. No, they fought and they bickered, but they were sisters.

They still were, even though one of them had decided it was time to go back to the galaxy. And where her sister was pure chaos, Madalena was order. She understood the dynamics of the bond and its effect on their very existence in a way few could. Madalena had to follow Scherezade now, not because of sentiment, but because the balance had shifted, and she could not allow that. She could not let matters remain off-axis. She had returned because some things had to be realigned. Methodically, quietly, and most important of all, permanently.

Decades had passed. Alliances broken. Names erased from memory. But debts were forever, and in the shadows, invisible to those whoo had forgotten how to honor them. Madalena's eyes narrowed. She would remind them. Not with words, but with actions.

The jungle seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for her verdict.

The scars upon her face began to glow as she stepped forward, entering the outpost. Though it had looked derelict on the outside, inside, she could easily detect some life. A droid manned the first entrance, its photoreceptors whirring as it scanned her.

"Identification?"

She handed nothing over. She said nothing. After a few moments, the system found the old records.

"You are… Marked as inactive."

"Correct."

Madalena continued to walk, past the droid and past guards who weren't sure if they should salute, past terminals that still had her old access codes somewhere in their rot. She didn't bother with the command deck. She didn't need it. She wasn't here to reclaim anything.

She was here because the galaxy had forgotten what it owed.

That wouldn't last.

She leaned her hand against the wall and closed her eyes, gathering her focus for a moment.

And the ground began to shake.

 

[Darth Apophion]

​

Darth Apophion stood motionless before the observation viewport. The light cruiser Chalice of Grief had come out of hyperspace. In the weeks since the fall of the Dark Empire, Apophion had done everything he could to collect Sith artifacts from across the galaxy and return them to his homeworld, Begeren, so they would not fall into the hands of the Jedi, criminals, or opportunistic scavengers. That endeavor had brought him to the world of Felucia, a place he had not expected to go. From the shadowy command center of the bridge, the Sith Lord moved to the holo-table to see the readout of the planet.

Felucia. Verdant, corrupted, primal. The jungle world loomed below like a half-remembered dream or a forgotten fever. Towering fungal groves stretched skyward like supplicant arms. Viscous mist coiled across its bioluminescent canopy, concealing more than it revealed.

"We have found the location of an old base or outpost of some kind. Allegiance and origin unknown. Shall I prepare a team?" an officer of the Sangre Tercio asked. Apophion did not trust Imperials. Instead, he had conscripted and trained men from Sith Space into his own private army, the Sangre Tercio.

"No, I will go alone. Have the men stand by just in case." He spoke before turning away from the holo-table. "Ready my shuttle."

The shuttle descended through the thick atmosphere like a blade parting flesh. Apophion maintained radio silence. The vessel broke through the canopy and landed in a small clearing not far from the outpost. The Sith stepped out onto the soft, spongy ground. He felt as though the jungle was watching him, the tall fungal stalks, the roots, the massive vines, and the birds.

He reached out with his senses, closing his eyes… and then Apophion felt her.

A woman, without question. A presence in the dark side, strong in the Force. Out of habit, his hand fell to his saber. His mind raced with possibilities. An unknown adversary. Perhaps a hermit. A rival. Or perhaps… something more?

Apophion moved swiftly toward the outpost. His pace was quick and deliberate. Soon, he was less than a minute behind her. First, he came upon the droid she had encountered earlier. But he had not come to negotiate with such a thing. A simple wave of the hand sent the droid flying into the jungle, its metal frame smashed to pieces against a massive fungal stalk.

The guards raised their weapons. Apophion's vermilion lightsaber came to life.

Yet before what should have been a short fight, the ground began to shake.

The guards stumbled. Apophion realized it was the lady he sensed in the force when he landed on the planet. The guards stumbled to the ground. Apophion managed to keep his footing and rush into the outpost. The force of the quake could destroy the codex, and Apophion did not want another piece of Sith history to be destroyed. He was still unsure of its location and condition. He couldn't take that risk.

He soon found the woman, Madalena Antares , her hands against the wall, her eyes closed.

"STOP!" He shouted.

He raised his saber and pointed it at her. "Or I will cut you down where you stand."

 

[Madalena Antares]

Her focus had been on the walls, never expecting someone else beyond a few measly guards would be there, and so she heard him before she knew he was there.

A voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the rumble, full of warning and wrapped in arrogance. As if any kind of tone could sway her. As if a saber, lit and pointed, would mean anything here. She had been the Head of the Hunt, and before that a feared combatant in her own right, leading groups within the Confederacy.

So Madalena did not stop immediately.

The tremors beneath their feet deepened. Dust and spores cascaded from the ceiling. Walls groaned like beasts remembering their purpose. Somewhere outside, the fungal canopy bent unnaturally, echoing the pulse of the Dark Side running through the old bones of the outpost.

Only after a long moment, deliberate and unbothered, did she open her eyes, the green glow gently emitted from it focused entirely on Darth Apophion .

And just like that, the quake ended.

She gently pulled her hand from the wall, almost as though this was a lovely garden tea party and she had just released a lemon cake. Not a gesture of submission or even fragility, but cold, calculated, and yet so natural to her.

She didn't even look at the saber. Just the man behind it.

"I was here first," she said, voice calm, deep and rich as aged red wine. "And I wasn't planning to collapse the place."

A pause, her gaze narrowing just slightly.

"But if you point that thing at me again, I might change my mind."

 

[Darth Apophion]

The ground continued to shake. She was stalling. yet still Apophion waited. Soon, the shaking came to a halt. As she took her hand from the wall, Apophion slid into a slightly more combat-ready stance. Her eyes glowed a soft green, yet they were met by his red glowing irides. The quake came to a stop. As their eyes met, he could see the storm of the dark side inside her, but she, too, would see that he was the rock in the storm. Unyielding and steadfast.

She finally spoke. Her claim that she was here first meant little to him. Apophion would simply take what he wanted; he was a Sith.

"As if causing this place to fall on me will stop me. No. There is an artifact here in this place, and I plan on claiming it for myself." He stated, "Your sorcery threatens said artifact. I will not see it destroyed by carelessness."

He lowered the tip of the blade. The lady had stopped, so he would try and de-escalate the situation. She was here for some reason or another. Apophion thought he sensed revenge, but he could not be sure of it.

"So what is it you seek and what rite do you seek to claim it, other than being first, may I ask?"

Madalena Antares