"Just say the word, my Lord," Wake acquiesced, swelling within the Force.
"Zol kash savanka, nyâshqûwai." "On your command, Master." Zal said, preparing herself.
"TOGETHER!" Kyraj cried out!
With a commanding gesture much like a conductor's before the symphony, Darth Caedes raised his hands, their bony fingers curling with the weight of authority. His gaze and his presence in the Force met with those gathered here beneath Horuset, piercing and uplifting— a challenge and the reassurance of confidence in each individual's abilities.
"Together," he whispered.
Darth Caedes called upon the Force, upon his innermost power, the most evocative emotions and painful memories, from the swelling of Korriban and from the Sith who had walked these desolate grounds in the ages before him. Gorg, Graush, Bane, Korriban, their lingering presences permeated the air, lending strength to his grip on the dark side. He delved deep into the darkest recesses, tapping into its unfathomable wellspring of wicked energy, pulling from Korriban's tortured soils, from the desecrated remnants of the Sith who had been ground into dust and who had joined the sands underfoot. He called, and the dark side answered his summons, flowing through him like a torrent and filling him to the brim with an unholy might— and through him, that power opened like a broken dam to wash over
all of the Sith standing here.
Zal Aditi
, whose fierce intellect gave structure and familiarity to their cause.
Kyraj
, whose power swelled within the Force like a battlecry.
Aliris Tremiru
, with the skillfully directed blunt force of youth's exuberant confidence, and the
First Sister
, whose ingenuity and crackling ambition shone brightly within the Force.
Darth Nwul
, whose marring presence filled hungry fire with seething heat.
Crix Maden
, whose raw presence fueled them all. Together, the dark side filled the Sith and filled Darth Caedes, oil-slick in its touch, seeping into and from his being, its corrupting influence strengthening him and those it touched.
"For too long, we have remained hidden, silent shadows lurking in the corners of the Galaxy, our power restrained by secrecy, our influence limited by scarcity. But the Force has whispered its secrets to me, it has revealed a future cloaked in darkness— a time where the Sith shall rise to rule once more. The feeble Jedi, blinded by their futile ideals, will cower before our vengeance, for we are the harbingers of chaos, for we are the masters of the abyss."
Calling upon that gathered wellspring of power, Darth Caedes summoned a tempestuous storm of Force lightning. Crackling tendrils of liquid fire snaked from his fingertips and wound through the air to snap and whiplash against the stone sphere at their core. With the shared might of their strength to pull upon, the sheer wealth of power was intoxicating. Caedes' smile split his cheeks, his flexible
Clawdite skin stretching and pulling and creasing to accommodate the unnaturally wide expression.
"We shall shatter the chains of restraint that bind us and rise as Horuset, as Korriban's phoenix sun, as the moon rises now, from the ashes of defeat into a fiery blaze of fury and storm to eradicate the light!"
The runes etched upon their
Seventh Moon flared a malevolent shade of red, sands churning with a telekinetic maelstrom as Sith battled against the devouring sorcery of ancient runes. The massive orb rose, its red glow filling the valley's depths, glimmering against the many runes etched along its walls. The lightning, rather than obliterating the sphere, was absorbed by its enchantments and hurled back outwards to collide with the rune inscribed valley walls. There, it crackled and arced, caught by one rune and thrown again to another on the opposite side, lancing from one valley wall to another, and back again, until a storm indeed roiled above them. The sphere itself seemed to pulsate with newfound vitality, tongues of Wake's flame lighting gaseous clouds in the orchestra of thunder, feeding the runes and increasing their red glare.
Horuset's chilling light was blotted out, and the gathered Sith fell into the shadow of
Chwûqmidwanottoi. In response, the very fabric of the valley began to tremble, the ground shaking beneath their feet. The churning sound of stones grinding against one another filled the air, a sinister accompaniment of ancient power awakening to the Sith's storming symphony.
"The galaxy shall tremble at our arrival. Worlds will crumble and fall, and the feeble cries of the weak will be drowned out in the chorus of their despair...!"
The ritual reached its crescendo and the
Gate of Graush opened, the stone of the valley's end rending and pulling apart to reveal a deep and branching network of tunnels beyond. Abruptly, the air became thick with the scent of dust and decay and a sepulchral silence befell the valley, interrupted only by the chirping trill of lightning. It was as if the gaping maw of some giant beast had opened, its foul breath hanging like putrid fog at their ankles. And then, rising from the very graves themselves, an unsettling sight unfolded before Darth Caedes. The dead, long entombed in the depths of the valley, emerged from the soil all around them, their bodies composed of sand and burial ashes. These specters, mere vessels of darkness and guardians of Graush's Gate, lumbered forward, their lifeless eyes fixated upon the Sith, the chorus of their silent screams echoing through the minds of those gathered.
"The time has come, the gates are open. Rise, Zal, Rise Kyraj. Rise Aliris, Wake, Crix, First Sister, rise and unleash the fury of the Sith upon the unsuspecting Ashlan beyond these tunnels. Pour from the shadows into their midst, slaughter their remaining warriors and erase their touch upon Korriban. Let the Valley of Gorg bear witness to the power of our shared strength. Let the sickly Ashlans tremble at our might, then let us reach further! Let every being in the cosmos tremble until they have no choice but to... submit!"
As he spoke that last word, Darth Caedes turned his attentions from the storm, from the
Seventh Moon which now hung overhead on threads of lightning and fire, and faced the specters of the Valley of Gorg. With a drunken cry of power, he unleashed a second storm into the approaching horde, blistering and shattering them as bolts leapt from one body to the next, fusing sand into glass chunks which shattered as they fell. The lightning cleared a path for those who wished to pass through, but the undead guardians continued to rise from the valley floor. They wished to be shown power, to revel in the return of the dark side of the Force to Korriban.
Rajakzânkut opened fire as they charged, but their blaster-bolts passed clean through the valley's ghosts without seeming to cause damage. Adapting quickly, they began moving in tight clusters through the shambling specters, splitting up and forming Honor Guards around the various Sith.
Alas, only the powers and weapons of a Sith could destroy these beings...
Darth Caedes
