Private Into the Dark

[Dax Perl]

Rumors of ghosts were always mentioned in the same uneasy breaths as that of the Valley of Dark Lords. Standing before them now, he wondered what those ghosts would say to him. How they'd spurn him, or try to kill him as the long-dead Sith were wont to do. It wasn't the first time Dax had braved these sandcovered tombs, nor did he suspect it would be the last. There was always something more to learn in this valley of secrets.

Only one secret mattered anymore though, and it seemed fitting that some clue might be hidden among the dead.

This most recent iteration of Dax's search, however, had not began on Korriban. Instead it was Zakuul. Only a handful Force Users throughout history had accomplished what Dax sought now, and their stories, though written in history, were woefully lacking in details. Zakuul had seemed a reasonable start for his investigation, once the seat of Valkorion himself. Weeks of sifting through forgotten records, trudging through the swamps, searching through mud and muck. And he'd walked away nearly empty handed.

Still, one small clue as to where to look next, and of course it had lead back to Korriban. Dax should've expected as much, but he loathed the dusty wastes of the planet. He'd had enough of deserts and yet he always found himself in these cursed sandstorms. The man pulled the wrappings around his face tighter, and wiped dust from the lenses of his goggles as he marched towards one of the many ancient tombs. The winds tore at his clothes, and the grains of sand snuck into every crevice it could find as the monolithic statues of the ancient Sith loomed over him, mocking his efforts. He could only hope this tomb belonged to the Dark Lord he hoped it did.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

They said grave robbing was wrong, that it was disrespectful, that it was undignified.

Malum had only one question for all those bleeding-heart moralists.

Why were they almost encouraged to explore around Sith tombs then? For quite many of them, the Sith tombs served as classrooms, Sith tombs usually held within their limits some of the greatest marvels of Sith innovation that the galaxy had ever seen, just gathering dust rather than being used for the benefit, and survival of the Sith Order and Empires.

It was no wonder then that in the depths of the Valley of the Dark Lords found Darth Malum, taking shelter within the entrance of some Sith that he would no doubt mentally sob as was the historian in him, that they had lost the name of. For now, he did his best to shake off the sand which had gotten everywhere.

For all, they said of Korriban because the most holy world of the Sith, their veritable homeland in a great many senses, Korriban was a chaoshole at the best of times. Sand, got, everywhere, every step barely let you move forward, rather it would dig you down further into the depths, as your shoes were filled with the small particles that made one scratch and itch to insanitatum.

And considering he was already going insane, that did say something.

That was Korriban at the best of times.

At the worst of times, one risked braving the sandstorms, you were almost guaranteed to be buried underneath, a long, horrid death, screaming into the void, as sand piled around you, keeping you blind, as you could do nothing, having walked into your tomb.

It was little wonder that most tombs in this world were buried down to their foundations up to their roofs.

Still, this tomb remained visibly open, and as he did his best to shake off what sand he could, he entered, his boots crinkling and crunching on the particles that had been brought inside. Perhaps it would have in store for him the next step on his quest, it had been long four years since the last time he had entered a tomb on Korriban and found the relic which had been so dear to him, a Holocron of his great ancestor.

Yet ever since, progress has been slow.

All he did know was that on Zakuul would be his query.

But to go there without a map or knowledge, would not lead him to the lightsabre that he knew belonged to the Great Marr.

The fact his amulet remained still and cold did not provide him with any assurance that this was where he was meant to be, but in the end, better to explore this and find something, waiting out the storm outside, rather than wasting his time doing nothing at all.

Or so he thought, not knowing that a grievous threat was not too far away from, surprisingly not within the tomb, but outside of it entirely.

Dax Perl

 

[Dax Perl]

Dax was blind. Only feeling his way through the Force was he able to march through the sand, each step sinking deeper and deeper into the dunes. A mass of Dark Side energy, the only indication that a structure was ahead of him. But the whole valley was filled with Force signatures just like it, but at this point, Dax just needed to get out of the sandstorm.

The tomb came into view as little more than a silhouette, a discolored rectangle in an otherwise uniform world of orange and tan. Even as Dax drew closer, he could not make out the runes he knew decorated the entrances of all the tombs. What they said, Dax was never quite sure, but that they were both declarations and warnings he was almost certain of. Dax had never been good at listening to warnings though.

Stumbling into the structure though, Dax quickly began to feel as if this were the one time he should have heeded the ancient Sith's indecipherable words. Even with his goggles clogged with dust, Dax had no trouble picking out the form of a man with his back turned to him. Not another graverobber like himself. And if he was, he was Sith, unlike himself. Last Dax recalled, they only liked it when their own kind defaced their ancient tombs.

A hand drifted to the slugthrower at his waist. "Don't suppose you'd mind if I poked around a bit, would ya?" the joking tone edged with a warning.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He was not alone.

A heart-stopping realisation at the best of times, somehow even worse when one was in a half-buried tomb belonging to a Sith Lord. Of course usually, if such a realisation occurred, it was due to the discovery of some defence in front of them. Of unlikely events, it was even more unlikely for that realisation to come due to someone being behind them.

Even more so, he had the realisation because the figure warned him of his presence, rather than doing what most others might have done, and simply shot him dead. Still, he was not one to complain when the Force had decided to smile down at him, and he certainly preferred being alive to being dead, even if the ear-splitting headaches sometimes certainly made him wish for death.

After all, even if disadvantaged, being alive meant you had every opportunity to turn the tables.

Raising his hands, he prepared to pull his lightsabre toward him, deflecting whatever shot that came towards him.

But.

It was a fact that the man had yet to shoot, for whatever reason, he was extending mercy, or at least... well whatever not shooting him counted as. Perhaps there was another way for them to sort things out that did not involve risk to this already unstable temple.

"Not at all, though I would ask that we not bear arms at each other, there is probably enough loot in here to share between two, after all."

He hoped this worked. Otherwise, getting into a battle while he was still covered in sand was not part of his plans for the evening.

Dax Perl

 

[Dax Perl]

The figure paused as he heard Dax's voice. It's arms raised slowly, and Dax clutched the grip of his slugthrower out of habit. Just in case. But, maybe for the first time in Dax's life, there wasn't some trick behind the figure's movements. Not yet at least.

"Not at all, though I would ask that we not bear arms at each other, there is probably enough loot in here to share between two, after all," the figure said in a clearly masculine voice. A looter it seemed. And a daring one at that. If they were Sith, the tomb itself deigned to hide that fact from Dax, and though it left Dax cautious, his grip still on his slugthrower, it did not persuade him into drawing the firearm yet.

"Not here for loot," Dax replied. "All yours for all I care. I'm chasing stories. Ghosts." But these tombs were full of them. Each and every one, haunted and cursed. Not that ever seemed to deter anyone. Least of all someone like Dax. He'd leave no stone unturned if he had to though. What did he have no except time?

Dax's eyes narrowed an imperceptible amount as he examined the other figure. "Turn around. It's impolite not to look each other in the eye, ya know?" And the man did. All the while, Dax scrutinized every movement, and even when the man stopped and was fully facing him, Dax's eyes never lost the hint of jaded suspicion. Red eyes stared back. "Hmph. Well then, Sith..." Dax's grip tightened. Not all Sith were like Srina. Or even Azlyn, which was saying something. "What're you here for? 'Cause I doubt its loot."

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Not here for loot, huh? That was an odd claim to make at the beginning, even if the man was simply looking for lore, or what else, why would he not also take ahold of whatever useful relic or knickknack he might across? Unless he was both being honest and an opportunist, his prime purpose was not to loot the tomb, but he would not be opposed to taking a little something back out with him if it caught his eye.

But enough to give even that up in the face of opposition, an opposition which to his eye would certainly be at a disadvantage, not even being able to look at his adversary. Did the figure truly not care for the material wealth and possessions that might be within this place, so much more interested in whatever his goal was that he would willingly and easily surrender it to Malum without another thought on the matter?

Whatever chasing stories and ghosts meant, and certainly, he was very curious about what it meant, how could it be worth giving up whatever they might find down in the depths?

"Well what a coincidence, I am not here for the loot either, still, more than happy to take your offer, and no doubt the ghosts we are not here to engage in grave robbing, our souls are not condemned to Chaos after all" He was pleased with that, not for the loot itself though, for the words he used certainly implied he had no intention to kill him, and though Malum knew he could not in the first place if an opportunity to avoid a fight was given, even from one as so far rude as the unknown figure, he was willing to take it.

As the man ordered him to turn, Malum did so, it was somewhat of a rare thing for him to follow orders, and a short list of individuals whom he would take orders from, but considering the circumstances, he was willing to make exceptions for diplomacy's sakes, "Generally from where I am from, pawing a blaster while in conversation is the much ruder conversational gaffe," Needless to say that the man had all but threatened him, making it so turning around had been his fault in the first place.

Still, aside from that, he took the opportunity to examine the man, shorter than him, but not by much, with brown eyes that seemed to be defined by experience, raven locks not too dissimilar than his own, if shorter and tanner skin that spoke to the fact he was not afraid to be out in the field.

Unfortunately, as the man announced, the jig was up when it came to his identity, Malum shrugged his shoulders, there was not much he could do about that, his lack of contacts made it so his eyes were a dead giveaway, "A Sith at a Sith tomb, no doubt all are surprised," He offered a smirk, "As for what I am looking for if you would not mind, an answer as vague as yours... information..." He was willing to share, but only once his curiosity was sated, it was not as if there was any chance this man had any connection to Zakuul after all.

Yet that was when a tug was made at his brain, a familiar one from an entity wishing to aid rather than bring him to his knees, a reminder.

The invisible black tendrils of Consume Essence flooded out from his form, and as they met his form, any smile or positive emotion on his face was wiped from his face, "...Jedi."

Dax Perl

 

[Dax Perl]

Chaos.
Hell.
The Void.

Whether it was a real place, or the experience of one's own consciousness being torn asunder, Dax didn't know. What he did know was that he'd danced at the edge of the proverbial cliff leading to it far too often. And after all he'd done, he wondered if he ever died, would he be condemned to wander it, or if he'd finally join Kimiko wherever she'd gone. A quick stab of grief shot through Dax's chet, but he forced any thoughts and feelings he had to the back of his mind. None of it was here, nor there. The red eyes staring back at him were a more pressing concern.

"Generally from where I am from, pawing a blaster while in conversation is the much ruder conversational gaffe," their owner said to Dax.
"Apologies, but can't be too careful in places like this," came the reply. Stone faced, Dax didn't flinch from the other's gaze. Probably half Dax's age. All sure of himself, confident that he'd be able to face down whatever came at him and come out the other side. Dax had been that way once, and he'd been wrong. Maybe the same fate would befall the Sith, maybe it wouldn't.

"A Sith at a Sith tomb, no doubt all are surprised," the other man had shrugged. "As for what I am looking for if you would not mind, an answer as vague as yours... information...Jedi." What struck Dax was like a wall. Immovable. Impenetrable. And unlike anything the man had felt before. It wrapped around him like a spider's web, binding him, suffocating him. Unwillingly, he staggered back a step, propelled by the whatever Force technique the Sith wielded. A technique that drew on something from Dax's very core. Anger. Rage. That which rivalled any Sith's. But more than that, an overwhelming grief. The sadness of thought before had been a droplet compared to the ocean that welled up, and tore through Dax's heart. A grief that the Sith could almost surely feel as he fed on Dax's emotions.

Everything that Dax had kept buried in order to care for his family came bursting forth as a trickle of wet warmth began to run down his cheek. His vision blurred as tears continued to well. Dax set his jaw hard, the muscles clenching, almost hard enough to crack his teeth as he bit back the sound of anguish he refused to let loose.

Crack!

The sound of the slugthrower going off broke the air. Unaimed, unable to see, there was no doubt that Dax had missed his mark. But maybe it had broken the Sith's concentration. Leather rasped against metal as Dax returned the slugthrower to the holster at his hip. He pulled the googles up over his head and cuffed away the tears before the roar of an amber saber being ignited filled the air, and Dax lifted and pointed the blade at the Sith. "I'm no Jedi." A metallic taste filled the air for just a moment as sparks began to crackle at Dax's fingertip, and thrusting his left arm forward, the sparks became arcs of lightning that leapt at the Sith.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Unfortunately, it seemed that battle was inevitable after all. Really, it was inevitable the moment the man had threatened him.

None threatened him and could be allowed to live.

It was unfortunate really, he might have allowed it to pass if the Jedi had acted like the one other Jedi in the galaxy who had his respect. Yet, such was unlikely, it seemed the Jedi Princess as even just a padawan, was a paragon of her Order, it would be unrealistic to think most or even other Jedi acted as her, indeed from what he had heard, her master was far from what their Order should be.

This is why, even if their Order had some individuals with sense, with reasoning and understanding enough to show their Order had some use.

The Jedi Order would need to be annihilated.

Of course, Malum, ceased such thoughts at the admission that the man was not in fact a Jedi, and the sound of a slugthrower firing in the air. Though, the lightsabre, even if amber in colour, was hard to ignore.

The lightning that flowed through his fingers rapidly towards his direction even more so.

He pulled through the Force, and in an instant his lightsabre found itself at his hand, hissing as it ignited itself, red plasma kissing the air, as within seconds the lightning struck it, Malum grunting as he held it at bay, the air sizzling in energy as he felt the pressure to be pushed back, instead, holding his ground with all method and measure.

He was powerful, that much was obvious.

That would make this battle dangerous.

But it would also make it very enjoyable.

As all the emotions flowed through him, even those that emerged from the figure before him, analysing them revealed little, but much at the same time. Anger, rage... grief? Who was this man? Who was he angry towards? Who was he raging at? Who was he mourning? All questions without answers, and likely, his curiosity would go on unfulfilled, for after all.

This man had to die tonight, for his impudence, for his threats.

At least the grief implied none would miss him.

Malum raised his free hand into the air, with the lightning sizzling nearby, blocked by his blade, he willed the Force through his fingers, and then as it coiled around his form.

He released.

White lightning, the same as his Mistresses' burst out of his fingers, unbearably hot, flame brought to its hottest point, shot out like a bullet of a gun, aiming to utterly annihilate the force user before him.

Red eyes gazed towards the figure opposite, a morse look on his features, "My condolences on whatever you have lost, my condolences for the death you will now face. I shall make it swift, you who is neither Jedi nor Sith."

Dax Perl

 

[Ayhan]

delete meeeee

 

[Dax Perl]

The crackle of lightning mingled with the hiss and hum of the Sith's saber, exploding into a storm of sound as Dax pressed his attack. He closed the distance between them as the Sith fended off the constant, steady stream of electricity arcing from Dax's finger tips. Their shadows danced along the tomb's walls, the Sith spirits that lingered surely enjoying the show.

But the entertainment of the dead was neither Dax's concern, nor the Sith's who lifted a hand into the air. The air became alive with strength and power, a sensation Dax had not felt in a long time. Something dark, something lethal. Something Dax certainly did not want to be standing in the way of. Pure white arcs of lightning shot forward, catching against Dax's own cerulean sparks, pushing back. Stronger. A slow procession, like a tidal wave of energy which Dax could not hope to push back. The battling streams of electricity met Dax's palm and exploded in a wonderful display of white-blue light sending the man flying back towards the entrance of the cave again.

Dax tumbled through the dirt, his saber snapping as the blade went out and the man landed on his stomach. Ouch. The man groaned as he rose to his knees and looked up at the Sith with a faint frown. "Not just some pissy Acolyte then," Dax muttered to himself with a sigh, standing back to his full height and dusting himself off. "Alright then, what else ya got?" Dax goaded, igniting his saber again with a small spinning flourish.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He breathed out slowly as the non-Jedi's lightning strike ceased, of course not out of his opposition's desire, indeed for the man had been attempting to advance upon him, Malum's red eyes had not ever stopped watching the man, and he could not resist the grim satisfaction that took over him, as his lighting, as their lightning had broken his advance, had struck him off-guard, struck him entirely indeed, exploding in a great deluge, sending the man flying back and striking the entrance of the tomb with an audible crack.

No permanent damage from the looks, especially as the man though audibly groaning as he pulled himself from the dirt, was indeed able to stand back up. Yet that mattered little, it was only the opening mutual salvo, only the truly weak, the truly caught off-guard were felled in such things. However, it did signal one important thing of note.

Malum had struck first blood.

The initiative was in his hands now.

After all, it was only on the offensive that one found themselves feeling the rush of victory, as the enemy was cut down and broken.

He shifted himself into Makashi, blade ready to strike forward, as he adopted almost a lazy stance.

He tilted his head, finding the brown eyes of his opponent, he wondered about his life, his adventures, all the more and the less, perhaps he would find out after the man's death.

All the more likely, it would simply be yet another corpse he had made in pursuit of his journey.

At least he could make this memorable.

A single hand pointed towards the man, as his eyes glimmered in both red and orange, a ring glowing in the darkness, as he felt the Force bend and twist around his will.

All the heat in the cave seemed to wither and disappear.

...

And then a second later it was as if a fiery explosion went off, as orange flames burst out of his fingers, quickly burning to blue it grew so hot, a wall of flames, a certified inferno and fireball, all seeking to burn the man before him into an utter crisp.

Malum's eyes could only shine in mirth.

"We are just getting started."

Dax Perl

 

[Dax Perl]

The Sith shifted, his body language changing as the man stood to his full height. An imposing sight to someone who hadn't faced down countless like him before. Dax altered his strategy in response, sinking lower into his stance, saber raised above his head and angled towards the Sith. His other hand reached out towards the man, easily recognized as Soresu. Defense for now, Dax decided. Wait for the right moment to strike. Whoever this Sith was, he was both powerful, and well-trained. A dangerous combination. But men like that tended to be overconfident, and eventually, they stumbled. Dax had every intention of capitalizing on that opportunity.

Quite unexpectedly however, the man did not engage with his lightsaber, despite having adopted the Duelist's Form. Instead, the ring encircling the man's finger glowed, and the temperature within the tomb plummeted. Had there been anything akin to moisture on this accursed planet, frost would've spread across the stone before melting away in the bloom of heat as walls of flame exploded into being, climbing towards the sandstone ceiling and blackening it with their smoke.

Pyrokinesis. Stardust would've been impressed, Dax thought as a faint grin curled his lips. Just getting started indeed.

No point in fighting the flames. At least, not right now, Dax reasoned. Instead, the man's saber hiss off again as he raised his arms above his head, clawed fingers pulling at something unseen. A loud crack came from above. Then dust, small pieces of debris. Then the ceiling. Whether or not the Sith managed to deal with the sudden rain of stone, Dax wasted no time in executing his next attack.

The wall behind him, the entrance of the tomb, had cracked and splintered when perhaps it should've been Dax's spine that had done so. The cobweb of splinters, shot forward as Dax thrust his arms forward, a peppering volley of smaller stones as the entrance collapsed beneath its own weight. Daylight disappeared, leaving them in the blue glow of flame as Dax leapt forward, saber coming alive again as the man swung.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The problem of a wall of flames, that continued to stream out of his hands, so hot that transitioned from orange, to white, to blue in quick order, so hot that one could not look upon them for long, or risk burning one's own retinas.

Was that it left one rather blind.

As a human flamethrower, as a drake disgorging its contents, he held intense focus to make sure the flames kept burning, that by the time his attack ended, all that would be left of the figure he fought, would be a burning husk, unrecognisable from the rather attractive man that stood opposed to him before.

Yet where sight failed him, the other senses made themselves manifest.

He felt the shaking throughout the earth, he heard the sound of rocks and stones moving. It came from above.

Gazing upwards, attempting to maintain his concentration on his forward momentum, it would ironically be his nose that first faced the consequences of what was coming. As debris fell, dust and all else, a lucky stone, and a rather unlucky circumstance for him, slammed into his nose.

His eyes widened, as he felt the blood begin to flow freely out his nostrils, a brain exploding upon the front of his face, as the flames flickered off, as he leapt back, and for the first time noticed the room was somehow darker.

And then through the flames, he saw him.

The lightsabre turned off, but arms and hands very active.

A wall of stones, rocks, and everything in between was coming towards him at full speed, from both in front and above.

Panic filled him, as his eyes shifted from red, to something more akin to orange, as his breathing went from deep and swift, to something far more calming.

As the urge to flee deeper into the tomb, was restrained by...

...Restrained by the presence of someone else entirely.

He felt the who stirred at the back of his mind fully awaken, as he felt the Force swirl about him, bending, breaking, the energies to his will.

He pulled on all the incoming debris and projectiles, slowing them, bringing them to his will.

Before turning to face the one that had dared survive.

And like one would throw a ball, flung as he pushed all of it back towards their creator.

Dax Perl

 

[Dax Perl]

As the rock crumbled, the ceiling collapsed and the tomb caved in on itself, Dax was almost certain that this was the end for them both. Well, in a manner of speaking. No escape. No way out. Just walls of hellfire and a mountain of rubble. The hailstorm of stone that Dax fired at the handsome man struck true, his dark features shifting into panic. At the man who plunged towards him with a blade of gold. At the man who did not fear death.

But time slowed then, and all seemed to still. The all-consuming flames faltered, and held still as if frozen, the sharps stones stilled, and hung in the air. Even Dax, who's gaze was fixed on the Sith with grim determination stilled to a perfect stop in the air, a marionette with a faltering puppet-master.

The Sith's gaze darkened, glowering at the insult as his nose leaked red. It matched the crimson of his eyes, though they did not glitter. Did reflect the firelight, the glowing saber a mere meter away. The blood drank in the light, and for a brief moment as Dax hung in the air, both moving and unmoving, the darkness opened up to him in a way it had not before.

Not with power.

Not with promises of ever-lasting freedom.

Vision.

Every piece of rubble, every shard of rock, stone and even Dax him shot backwards with frightening speed. The Rogue twisted, maneuvering in the air, reoriented himself, and felt his boots strike the craggy remains of the entry way. An uplifted hand aimed to conjure a barrier between himself and razor-stone.

Not quick enough. He winced as a gash carved itself across his cheek. Then through the webbing of his fingers. And whatever meager defense Dax mustered melted away.

The crash that followed as Dax was crushed between the wall and the largest of the stones launched at him mixed with the crunch of bone and squelch of soft tissue. But the body would not remain, wisping away into cloud and smoke, until only clothes and weapons remained.

Darth Malum of House Marr