In Darkest Day

[Malok]

My methods had to be adjusted.

One might question my actions...label them as hypocrisy...but there was simply a line that I would not cross.

Srina...She is bright. She is strong. But I am not ready to cast her into the abyss just yet. There is vast potential within her, but before I set her down my Path, I must see the end for myself. I cannot tell her to follow blindly if it leads to both of our utter ruin. And so, I work in secret. I, the Sith Lord of the Confederacy, veil my efforts from the light of day. Hypocrisy, is it not?

I have retreated to the mountains of Ryloth.

To a quiet place where I will not be disturbed.

I have not told a soul exactly where my Sanctuary lies, and I have said enough by confessing to these pages. However, it is here that I might walk the Path without fear of corrupting her further. Here, I can push myself...I can push Alchemy to its limit. Just as my Master had done before.

I sometimes wonder why Rave changed at the end.

 

[Malok]

The Phobis Core.

My studies of the device yielded immense results on the field of battle. And though my control is leagues away from being perfect, I have made leaps and bounds. Dread itself is a mighty weapon, one that my foes are unprepared for. But I can do more...the very same hands which wrought the Core also created the Devices.

They provided the means for projecting terror across the stars without jeopardizing one's self.

What Kamino had taught me was to never think one's self truly invisible. It did not matter if one had a cloaking device or the finest stealth suite in the Galaxy - the enemy will always find a way. That, and the power of Fear sticks out like a sore thumb. But, there is a way to express this might without reliance upon stealth or guile.

And I have the means to create them.

Their history lays before me, eager to unfold.

All I have to do is look.

 

[Malok]

Subjects.

This proved to be a mightier challenge than I had anticipated.

In eras past, I had the luxury of simply wandering into Hutt Space and procuring the specific lives needed for my endeavors. However. I had adopted a mantle. I had championed a cause. I could not tarnish the reputation of the Confederacy in the name of personal ascension. Such an affront would see a fissure erupt in our moral stance - and for all my faults, that is not my goal.

Thus, the task proved challenging...but far from impossible.

I turned my eyes to Geonosis for the solution.

You see, we had taken adopted a relatively vicious approach to the issue of slavery within the Southern Systems. The institution was outlawed at the conception of our nation. The main holdouts on Ryloth were decimated at the very start. Yet, the battle of Shimia proved that there were many who were willing to fight for the "right" of owning others.

Thus, when the servants of the so-called Crucible revealed themselves, they were always promptly defeated.

And brought to the Arena.

Typically, they were given the "chance" at freedom if they survived. If. But the Gamemaster was good at one thing - making certain that didn't happen.

So, I came to a select few with the offer of a lifetime...

 

[Malok]

Kiffar.

It has always fascinated me how different races acquired such innate talents.

The Epicanthix are born dead to the Mind. The Vong are born dead to the Force. Yet...the Kiffar were born with the ability to read the past. In this particular endeavor, my eager volunteers would have minimal difficulty.

The offer was simple: freedom for assisting in an investigation. That was how I presented the offer - and so quickly did they seize the opportunity. In truth, if the roles were reversed, I would try my hand at aiding a Vicelord's investigation than an Arena full of Nexu. Or was it Lylek? The menu always changed at Petranaki.

In any case...those select few Kiffar were...unaware of the asterisk associated with the offer. For, they would indeed be free...but at the cost of their minds.

Thus, once a capable handful had joined the cause did I present the Phobis Core and some remaining fragments from the original discovery. I challenged them to dig deep into the past, further than the creation of the Core itself.

No, for the Core had to have come after. I must have only been scratching the surface before.

And thus did the dives begin.

 

[Malok]

Sacrifice.

This time, my mind was much more attuned to the nature of the beast.

This time, I could weather the storm. I could uplift the sorry souls as they peeled away the secrets to the Phobis Devices. In my previous attempts, the youngest of the Kiffar would only yield the most basic of glimpses, but by my experience alone, I was able to expand their dives. They were able to provide more than glimpses...

But it was still not enough. We had to keep going.

I...vividly recall the moment when the first subject realized the error of his ways. The layers of terror washing over his mind...the vivid images which invaded his very soul...they were far worse than the waiting fangs of a Nexu. Yet, as I pushed him beyond those fears, I could see him looking at me.

I could see the knowledge in his eyes - the knowledge that this was the end for him.

And as his mind finally broke, the others, too, realized the truth.

They had made a deal with the Devil. But there was no turning back. There was no freedom without obedience. There was only pain for rebellion. And there was no one, for miles and miles, who could hear their wails.

But even if they were in the middle of Golbah City...who would rush to the defense of a slaver?

 

[Malok]

Progress.

As time moved ever forward, the selection of subjects began to thin.

Those broken by the embrace of the Phobis Core were not killed. No, they were returned to the cell from whence they all came. I considered this motivation - for they could strive to not end up like their fellows. What's more, I intentionally went after the young first...because the older were more experienced. Even when they rebelled in the process, release from the terror quickly motivated them to give me what I wanted.

And so, after but a few days' time, I had a valuable piece of information.

Inspiration.

The scene which unfolded was...personal. As if the ancient maker had imprinted it on the essence of the Devices for a reason. What this the root cause of his drive? Was this the trigger that inspired the creation of something much more? I could not say, nor could I tell.

However, the scene was worth the subject's weight in gold - for it gave me a direction to look in.

And for the first time, the slaver knew that I could be merciful. As a reward, I cut his suffering short and he returned to his cell.

Alive. Shaken. Whole.

 

[Malok]

Dreambeasts.

Smoke Demons. They went by many names, but the creatures were but one species.

Mustered from beyond by incantation, they had the innate ability to take the shape of whatever an adversary feared the most.

The scene...The precious nugget that the subject had provided...revealed that these creatures were the key to my ascension. These creatures - one of the very first incantations I learned - were at least partially responsible for the creation of the Phobis Devices.

It went something like thus...

An apprentice, training at the feet of his master. Overconfidence characterized the whelp's every move. Boldness fell from his lips. But the Master uttered a single word - the incantation. From the shadows emerged Smoke. From the Smoke emerged a Demon.

And the apprentice's fears came alive.

He was beaten. Pummeled. Broken by the Demon...whilst staring into the Abyss of his terrors.

 

[Malok]

Understanding.

Given the age of the youth, I can easily see why the event left him...shaken.

It reminds me of my own demise. How untamed fire, to this day, gives me pause. I can vividly recall the sting of flame upon my flesh - the agony as my skin bubbled and my tongue boiled within my own mouth. Such pain as this, one never forgets. Such pain as this...can color everything a man does with his life moving forward.

So what does that say of me and my endeavors?

What have I done since clawing my way back to the world of the living? I have built this nation...but to what end? Is this my shield from inferno? Is this a way of protecting myself from ever choking on ash again? Has the devastation of Mandalore left me broken in a way that I cannot explain?

Bah. I've wasted enough time ruminating on such things - there is far too much work to be done.

I feel that we are getting somewhere, finally. I feel as though this nugget of the past is a sign of great things to come.

 

[Malok]

Ritual.

This day, I skipped the line of succession and went straight for the elder of the cell.

He was all that kept the gaggle together - a bastion of hope in a situation devoid of a reason to live. He kept them from biting their tongues off. He kept them from bashing their heads upon the bars. And for this stability, I offered him the honor of escorting me to my goal.

He knew. I knew. Resistance was pointless.

And for him, there was indeed hope. Hope that, if he provided just a deep enough glimpse into the past, he might guarantee my mercy. We took the dive together...and what we found robbed him of all illusions of Hope. What we found drained the color from his face. Beyond the horrors. Beyond the terror. The guarantee that he would not walk away from these mountains alive.

For the Phobis Cores were born of Ritual.

And the Ritual demanded sacrifice.

 

[Malok]

I had all I needed.

I went over what I saw again and again and again. I wanted to make sure that I did not leave out even the most miniscule of details.

The symbols were perfect. The number of live bodies were perfect. All I needed now was to act.

But I could not so in haste - to allow excitement to get the better of me would be to call myself a poor alchemist. For as Rave herself taught, time is the difference between a sword that never blunts and a blade that shatter Beskar.

And so, the slavers earned their reprieve. They would not know the day...they would not know the hour...but for now, they would live.

Live until I was ready to feed them to the Demons.