Legacy of the Void

[Zark San Tekka]

Valley of the Jedi​

Ruusan​

​

It had been many years since the Valley's pinnacle, but while it was no longer the spiritual doomsday weapon it had once been, it was still arguably the most powerful spiritual reservoir in the known galaxy. Though Ruusan had changed many hands since, none were able to sway this deep connection one way or another, the touch of the empyrean endured.

A long way from the Outer Rim, for Jedi Master [member="Coren Starchaser"] to have made such a pilgrimage could only mean a greater purpose to his visit. He was searching for something, someone perhaps, and the Valley of the Jedi was one of the greatest natural focusing rods in all of creation. Left alone among the ruins in trust by its Silver Jedi guardians, Coren had whispered a name on supernal winds.

Omai Rhen.

For days there was no response, and then in the depths of his meditations he heard a response. It did not come from the spirit he had expected to find.

"Starchaser."

Coren opened his eyes. Shrouded in smoking robes, the translucent form of Admiral Zark as he had appeared in life stared back at him.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The galaxy had become a darker place. The Galactic Alliance had been pushed from the Core and to the Rim. The Sith and First Order were moving forward. Darkness was spreading. Even in his own life, the world was different. Betrayed by Taeli Raaf, the second Grand Marshall of the New Jedi Order, and having lost others that assisted the Alliance.

So many brothers and sisters in arms had fallen. And people he had looked up to along the way. Nemo Ven, Omai Rhen, Zark, so many others. He had come to the Valley, though, to try to connect with those he could.

The Jedi who had fallen ahead of him, to see if he could contact the fallen Grand Marshall. The Shattered Order was looking to him, the Alliance in Exile saw him as a leader. He wasn’t sure which way to go here. The man was hoping to contact the one who helped inspire him to follow the Jedi more closely.

He heard a voice, and fell from his meditations. Looking around, the man in front of him was not who he was looking for, but another leader just the same. Eyes meeting the visage.

“Master [member="Zark"] .”

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"You're a long way from home," there was a thrumming echo in Zark's voice, an almost celestial reverberation that seemed to fade out the more he swirled into focus, "These ruins are not meant to be taken lightly. The places of power in this galaxy exact a toll."

The spirit looked as if he were about to say more on the subject, and then paused. There was only so much he could reveal about his new calling, even to a trusted Master of the Light like [member="Coren Starchaser"]. Very few had truly guessed the extent to which these loci were integral to the Great War, and the less who knew the truth the better for everyone. Instead, this fragment of Zark began to pace, a smoking haze followed his movements and swayed just like true Jedi robes.

"I know why you are here," he said at last, "I know who you seek. You will not find him. Not even this place is enough to pierce that veil."

Ancient guardians carved in stone rose above the valley all around them, long forgotten protectors of a valley infused with the Force for untold aeons. Ruusan's twin suns, which had burned brightly overhead not so very long ago, had now been enshrouded by murky cloud cover. Shadows cast across their features, the massive carvings seemed to glare down at Coren like some kind of interloper. It was as if their very surroundings for kilometers in every direction was reacting to the tenor of their conversation.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The Valley was far from Coren’s typical route. Even as a Warden of the Sky, it was far and few between he made his way out here. And Zark would be one to know that. Having worked together, and worked under the fallen Master, and that meant his ship records were probably somewhere in Alliance command. But even without that, Zark was a Jedi Master, he could find where Coren was going, and what he was looking for. He regarded the Master again.

“It does take a toll, but with the state of the galaxy, I need guidance.” He looked around the Valley again. This was a place of power, a place of answers. But the next thing was not something Coren exactly was ready to make peace with.

“He’s not… Why? How can I not commune with Rhen?” [member="Zark"] was a respected Jedi Master, but the relationship that Coren had with Omai. “Is there any way?” If the Sith had destroyed Rhen completely, there was nothing that would stop him from avenging the death. And he knew just who he had to go for.

“Have you seen what the galaxy has become?”

He needed answers.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"I have seen enough."

The spirit of Master Zark paced back and forth before [member="Coren Starchaser"], billowing tendrils coalescing into a smoking monk's robe. There was a dour hue to him, a curiosity of form only those truly worldly Jedi like Coren would recognize as unusual for a Force spirit. It was a consequence of his existence as a tethered form, his spirit refracted through the holocron which safeguarded his essence. It diluted his connection to the cosmic balance all around them, although in wellsprings such as Ruusan he felt something more like his old self again.

"I lived and died for your Alliance, but now I fight in a new war, the True War. Once more, the Dark reigns ascendant, and threatens to unravel not just your universe, but all realities."

A glimmer of sunlight pierced the veil of shadowy storm clouds that gathered now over the Valley, and for the blink of an eye Zark appeared to Master Starchaser not as a smoking echo of his former self, but as a gloriously armored soldier of pure light encased in exquisitely ornate knight's armor. Then the sun faded once more, and the spirit was back to its mundane form.

"Come with me," he reached out a spectral hand, beckoning the living Jedi to come forward and take it, "I will show you of what I speak."

Coren, to his credit, hesitated for only the briefest moment before resolutely stepping forward. The Corellian reached out, and the moment he touched the spirit to his surprise he found that his hand clasped something tangible. Suddenly the Valley was gone, and there was an inexplicable sensation of falling through void, although the next thing his eyes registered was the edge of a strange citadel tower on some faraway world. Zark was pulling him up and over to safety, it was a long way down below.

"Do you recognize this place? You have been here before," from the ease of the spirit's tone, it appeared as though from his perspective nothing seemed amiss, "Come, we must not linger long. It is very dangerous for you now."

Zark led the way inside this strange citadel, a structure that did indeed seem eerily familiar to Master Starchaser. Several features of its architecture were classic hallmarks of Sith design, and as they descended deeper and deeper into the structure's depths, a feeling of deja vu grew and grew inside Coren until it threatened to overwhelm him. Finally they heard the sound of voices echoing off stone walls, not far away, and when the spirit leading him motioned him over and held up a hand for them both to stop, the Corellian saw why.

"Wait!" the voice of Taeli Raaf called out to Coren, but not to the one now standing next to Zark's spirit.

The citadel walls began to shift, separating their Jedi strike party from one another. Coren briefly caught sight of Grand Marshal Rhen reaching out for his past self, before they were wrenched away from each other by the Sith stronghold's devious internal defenses. They were on Byss, and this was the last time Starchaser had seen his Omai Rhen alive. Zark motioned again for Coren to follow, leading him on an unerring path through the shifting complex and out into where the Grand Marshal had emerged on that fateful day.

"Welcome Omai Rhen," an ebon robed figure holding aloft a crimson lightsaber called out before them, "I am Lord Vyoro, master of this facility... and soon, your executioner."

"Behold," Zark said to his charge, "The path not taken."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

How long had it been? The past few months, starting with the loss of Rhen until now? It felt like decades. Coren was not really enjoying the feel the galaxy had since that day. Sure, he and Taeli had accomplished some good, especially in the fight against the First Order, but it failed to compare to the damage that was done by the Sith Empire. Zark here, respected and definitely one who helped keep the Force lit and the Alliance in the good fight while he was having his crisis of faith, was another loss he mourned. The walls of the D’Qar base, the Star Temple, and the Nemo’s Revenge, were decorated with holos of those who had fallen, were left behind, and missing. Holos and names.

Every new victory was built because of the losses of those.

“Alliance is in your blood, and spirit, Master Zark. I understood that the day I came back and saw where you were helming us from. And how.” He took a moment. “The True War?” Light and dark after death? Sounded like a lame after party when he said it that way, but the entire of the Jedi Order on one field? He couldn’t be too excited for that. There were so many people on this plane, and he was one of them that was left behind to do anything about it. The man listened, and nodded.

Regarding the fallen Master, Starchaser nodded. Come. He knew he could trust @Zark. Taeli Raaf hadn’t removed his trust from all around him. And less when he could see and sense Zark the way he was. Feeling the world around him warp and bend, the sensation of vertigo had filled him for a moment. Shaking his head, the pilot/spacer was pushing the urge to vomit away for a moment. And was pulled from that focus when his guide began speaking.

He knew exactly where he was. Eyeing the fallen Master, he nodded and followed. Looking around, he was not enjoying this tour so far, but there had to be a reason. Then he heard it. That voice. Instinctively reaching for his lightsaber, the handle he had lost on Coruscant in his hand. He looked at his companion and around. It was the past, the blade wasn’t needing to ignite. He couldn’t change this. His could just observe.

Vyoro. Lightsaber still in hand, the Jedi Watchman did all he could, commit the name and face, if he got the glimpse to memory. “It was a trap…”

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"Remain mindful of the present," Zark's spirit chided him, and this was all he would say on the supernal conflict which now consumed his focus, "There are wars yet for you to fight here and now."

The closer they had drawn towards Grand Marshal Rhen's last stand, the more he had seen comprehension dawning upon [member="Coren Starchaser"]. By the time Vyoro unveiled himself, the Corellian Jedi understand fully understood where they were and why. Or at least, he thought he did. Zark wished he could spare his old friend this revelation, but knew it was necessary for Coren to find some closure at last over his mentor's demise.

"It was a trap."

He could hear the bitterness in Starchaser's voice, felt the flare within his charge as the Jedi struggled to master his emotions at seeing this moment in time.

"Yes, but set by whom?"

"Feel the power of the Darkside!" Vyoro's shout heralded his charge and the commencement of battle, distracting Coren from asking Zark what he meant.

It was a glorious sight to behold, watching Omai Rhen in battle. His opponent was obviously an incredibly talented bladesman as well, delivering a solid accounting for himself, but Rhen's form was nearly perfect. Over time it became clear that the Grand Marshal was simply wearing his opponent down, his mind a bastion of patient serenity. The howls of Sithspawn echoed from another entrance into this chamber, and at last another familiar face from Coren's past revealed herself.

"Grand Marshal!" Taeli Raaf cried out, still perfectly emulating the concerned mask of a master manipulator.

Without hesitation, she leapt in to engage Vyoro alongside Rhen. Once more, Zark could feel Coren's emotions surge within him at the sight of their Betrayer. In life, the Jedi spirit likely would have felt much the same. With two master saber wielders pressing in on him, Vyoro began to tire more rapidly. It quickly became apparent to the educated observer that their victory was only a matter of time. Finally, the Grand Marshal slipped past the Sith's defenses, effortlessly disarming his enemy and moving in for a killing blow.

"Her deception ran far deeper than you could possibly imagine," as he said the words, the spirit of Master Zark clasped his hand gently upon Coren's shoulder in an attempt at consolation.

"Ridasizi ri jina'tis."

Taeli revealed her true form at last, relishing the briefest moment when horrified realization dawned on Marshal Rhen, before obliterating his spirit entirely with a powerful tendril of Darkside energy. In that final moment of his death, something happened that even Zark did not expect. Omai turned his head to face them both, an act which had not happened when this moment played out the first time.

"Starchaser..." he rasped as his corporeal form slowly unraveled.

Their surroundings shook, and yet the past vision of Taeli showed no sign of awareness that anything was different as she reached down as if to help Vyoro, before plunging her blade into his chest just as Coren's past self emerged into the chamber. Zark instinctively swirled his smoking robes around the real Starchaser, enveloping him in an opaque mist. When the Corellian's vision cleared moments later as his spirit guardian's cape receded, they were back in the Valley.

"Perhaps there is hope then, after all."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The trap was sprung. It was something that happened, what, years ago? Back after Coren had left the Alliance space for the Unknown Regions. As he listened and watched what was occurring in front of him, he heard Zark speak. Who set this trap? He was not able to personally vouch for everyone who came through the Alliance space after the first few weeks. But this? This was deeper. The Jedi Master heard the call for the power of the dark side. This was not something he recalled, he was not here.

The man was watching the scene unfold before him. And that was when he heard the voice.

Her voice.

Taeli Raaf. The other leader of the fallen New Jedi Order. The one Coren knew to be a traitor, having experienced it first hand on Coruscant, the launching of the Alliance’s dreadnought. She was here, with Rhen. Starchaser was pacing, lightsaber in hand, and breathing slowing, working on burying the feelings he had. The rage of sorts. He was collecting his thoughts and turning. This was not a fight. This was a vision. But to say it wasn’t bothering him was a lie. And Starchaser wasn’t about to lie to himself, the Force, or anyone.

The Jedi Master was watching, turning to see the final hurrah of his mentor. And that was when he heard his name.

Stunned, the Alliance General turned to Zark as the surroundings changed, when they were back in the Valley, Coren couldn’t help but watch the other Master. “Did he… look at us?” The Jedi was concerned.

Hope.

He could keep hope alive.


[member="Zark"]

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"That...should not have happened."

Zark stared intently at something imperceptible just over Coren's shoulder. He offered no further explanation to the baffling event they had just witnessed, in fact seeming to fade out into a more translucent form. The spirit's smoking robes grew less opaque, and his head began to tilt around at a supernaturally accelerated rate, as if he were examining a great many events somewhere else all at once. The irises of his eyes had disappeared and now there were only milky white orbs.

"His timeline is corrupted, I am unable to locate its terminus," he hesitated before adding, "Such a phenomenon is unfamiliar to me."

Master Starchaser's specter coalesced, now staring directly at the Corellian for an uncomfortable pause.

"There is only one place in all of creation that might have the answers we seek," Zark spoke again at last, his tone now almost menacing, "Just how far are you willing to go for the truth? Would you give your life to know?"

When [member="Coren Starchaser"] finally agreed as the spirit knew he would, he drifted more than walked right up to his living charge. He placed two fingers on Coren's forehead, and once again their surroundings transformed entirely. But this time it was different, rather than feeling as if his consciousness was being transported by Zark as it had been last time, this time it felt as if Starchaser was falling back into himself, down into the farthest deeps imaginable.

And then it was over, and the two of them were standing atop a balcony overlooking a sight Coren knew all too well but thought he would never see again. Below them, a still intact and populated Sullust Temple floated high above the volcanic ashwaste of the planetary surface, shielded from the oppressive natural elements by a biodome shield that had allowed the New Jedi Order to cultivate their floating garden of eden. There was no sign of any sabotage or anything else that might threaten the tranquility of the moment.

"This is your mind palace," Zark was leaning against the balcony beside him, and instead of the smoking specter he appeared as he had in life, down to the custom tailored officer's uniform he had always worn in place of the robes of a Jedi, "Even after all this time, this is the place you can remember better than anywhere else, the place you still think of as home."

Grinning slyly as he would have done before the Itsukusk, Coren's old friend restored motioned for him to follow, and the two descended into an all too familiar main gathering hall and out into the artificially generated forest environment outside its ancient stone walls reminiscent of ancient Jedi construction.

"This is a place of pure focus," he explained as they walked, "where your subconscious and memory are at their most accessible. You will need both if you are to survive this trial, a level of concentration you have never before attempted. Only once we have slowed your metabolism to dangerous levels will you be ready to begin the journey. The River of the Dead is a treacherous place for the living."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

When you were being lead around the world of the dead by a Jedi Master who has passed on, and seeing the death of your long time mentor, the last thing you want to hear is that something shouldn’t have happened. Just wasn’t what was supposed to happen, and in a place where you knew that your kind, the living, didn’t belong? Still, Omai Rhen looked dead at Coren and called out his name. “Corrupted? Is it something I did? Being here?” He wasn’t sure. The Force moved in mysterious and fascinating ways. Coren knew that it was impossible to reverse death, but maybe pulling Rhen from wherever the tendrils destroyed his soul? He could hope.

One place he knew that would have the truth? “If the truth will help restore balance, and help the light. I’d give everything.” And that was a statement that Zark would know, anyone who knew Coren would know, to be the truth. The man may have helped start Omai Rhen’s fools errand of a crusade, the mantle fell to Coren. And he was taking the reigns in running as many Jedi under a common banner, if not the same banner, as he could. It was not going to be easy, but it had to be done.

The shift they were going through, the change? That was another feeling that didn’t sit well with the Corellian. But he knew the end location. Sullust, the temple. The one he had helped found. Before the move Coreward, this was where the New Jedi Order had based. “This, I recognize.” Probably the last place he was before the galaxy went sideways. “Its before everything went wrong.” Coren was even in a modified version of the GA uniform. While he served as a Jedi, he was also a Commander first and foremost. Helping to lead the forces from a mixed position.

“Its the spot I always felt would stand.” He followed his old friend, reliving the past. “Place of focus…” He nodded. “What is the trial? What is expected of me?” The Jedi Master was not afraid, but inquisitive.

[member="Zark"]

 

[Zark San Tekka]

When Coren first began to walk it was disorienting, as if he was remembering pieces of a dream instead of experiencing the moment in his own body. Zark assured him that this sensation would soon pass, or at least the Corellian's conscious perception of it.

"Possibly everything," the specter offered his old friend a warning in response to his query, "Smuggling living souls past the Ferrymen is a dangerous business, and that is just the first of many threats we will certainly face. The Mist-Beyond seldom allows mortals to return to the land of the living."

The Jedi Master trailed off there, and despite his vigorous new appearance a shadow passed over his features. He knew that Starchaser would volunteer eagerly enough, but did he even know what he was volunteering for? How could anyone, without having seen it for themselves? Coren would place his life in his hands without a second thought, but could he say the same about his sanity? That was what was at stake hear, Zark knew. Not just lives, but their life essence itself, any trace of their existence.

"If you're looking for specific instructions," he continued, glancing sidelong at [member="Coren Starchaser"]. They had emerged from the temple now, and were moving through the biosphere's artificially maintained garden ecology, "The best way to become one with the Force is to die. Or in this case, to put on a convincing enough show of it."

Zark motioned for his companion to follow him into a secluded grove.

"Come, we will meditate," effortlessly he began levitating off the ground. Here in the depths of Coren's mind, the laws of physics could be bent, and as a spirit Zark's connection to the Force was pure, "There isn't much to it, really. We'll begin with a simple Force trance, slow your heart rate as much as possible."

Controlling a Jedi's own vital functions was very basic in technique, and without even realizing it his mind palace would take care of the rest, focusing his intent until for all intents and purposes he was as much pure spirit as Zark. Now only barely alive and comatose scientifically speaking, the familiar surroundings of the Sullust Temple faded away, and Coren was unceremoniously roused from his trance by the unmistakable sensation of freezing cold water splashing into his face. He opened his eyes to find that he was now somewhere else entirely, sitting across from Zark on a small rowboat, stormclouds shining off and on through an otherwise impenetrable fog on all sides. A heavy rain battered them from above, and a particularly monstrous wave threatened to capsize them.

"Hang on!" he could finally make out what Zark was shouting at him over the sound of roaring water, "We're an unscheduled arrival! The River is angry!"

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Being on this… plane? In this mental state? It wasn’t something Starchaser was used to. Since he was out of carbonite, the closest thing had to be wandering around the Rift, with the Aing-Tii. They were … interesting teachers. The Netherworld, though, was infinitely more vast and dangerous. Starchaser knew his purpose was on the living plane, but with [member="Zark"] here, he knew that this must mean something.

And his old friend was deadpan serious with everything. “Well, I’ve got my life in your hands, old friend.” He nodded his trust towards the Watcher. He knew the other was taking a risk all his own. But there was something different about the former Admiral. He had the cause and the focus of the Jedi. He was here as a leader, a teacher, and a messenger.

“Well, my intent isn’t to die, not yet. Too much to… protect.” He said, catching himself. His true focus was protection, but he was a Corellian, the best defense was, sometimes, offense. He nodded as he looked at the Master. Meditation.

Finding himself a comfortable position, the Jedi Master was exuding light, something he was always reaching out to, but sometimes finding himself wishing wouldn’t happen. A Warrior and Defender of the Light, this was the best way for Coren to access the Force, but it did bring… attention. Focusing on the purity of the Force, the unifying and living aspects, he was hoping to stop rocking the boat.

And that was when the trance pulled him out. Standing, leaned over, to grab the rail of the boat’s gunnel. Calling to the Force as was just natural, he looked at Zark. “What can we do?” It was either listen, or start fighting back. He could quell this storm.

He knew the power was there, but was this one out of his league?

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"Don't touch the water!" Zark cried out, tackling [member="Coren Starchaser"] to the deck of the boat.

His touch was now just as solid as it had been in life, until a wave crashed over the side and splashed over them both. Both Jedi began smoking, and Coren's spirit guide started to fade. His cries to hold on could just barely be heard over the torrent, for Coren who had just been considering calling on the Force to intercede would now find that his connection to it was fading. All either of them could do was cling to the deck of the boat, and ride out the River's furor. After what seemed like a very long time but in hindsight must have only been a few minutes, the storm subsided of its own accord and the waters around them were unnaturally calm.

"Your powers should return...in time," the Jedi spirit was panting heavily, still flickering in and out of corporeality, "I am afraid until then you will continue to feel a great sickness. Welcome to the River of the Dead, the Path of Choices awaits us at its mouth. Here, give me a hand."

Zark could feel the sickness too, he was a being of the Force after all. It felt like radiation poisoning, and for as long as it lasted he was confined to this plane of existence, unable to access any of his spirit powers. Despite the pain, he reached for one of the oars and began to row them both downriver. They could not afford to tarry in any one place for long, the Ferrymen wouldn't hurt them but if their deception was discovered this journey would be over before it had ever begun.

"We don't have much time, I can tell you a little more now that you're on the Other Side. You won't remember most of this when you wake up anyway. There's no other way into the Mist-Beyond than the Path of Choices, not one that I know about anyway. I should be able to pass unseen, but you'll have to be Judged."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Hearing Zark centered Coren pretty fast. The man looked to his mentor and nodded. “Right.” A deep breath and the Jedi was getting himself centered. This was not something that took him too long. But it didn’t seem to be necessary, not with Zark grabbing for him to hold him steady. Starchaser was always a bit of a hot-head when it came to being a Jedi. But it was for naught, with the water coming over them.

The pain he felt from water, it was physical as well as linked heavily into the Force. Starting off life as a man who was running from the Force, he had become pretty intimate with it since the Alliance took the fight to the One Sith, and even more so once the Alliance had fallen. He shook his head. This did not feel right, not right at all.

“Sounds an appropriate name.” He shook his head and nodded. “Yeah, I got ya.” He grabbed the oar and was doing everything he could to prevent losing his last meal. This was not a place they needed to be. Coren had more Sith to smite before he was ready to welcome death.

“What will I remember? What can I take back with me?” He looked to [member="Zark"] and nodded. “You know what I’m here for… and what is Judged?” He felt that it was a capital J on that.

Not a good sign.