First Reply Shadow Grows

[Aiden Porte]

​

The gunship descended through the ochre haze of Geonosis, its repulsors howling as it cut through the dry, dust-laden air. Red sands stretched endlessly below, broken only by the jutting spires of ancient hives and the long shadows of the planet's skeletal mesas. Even through the hum of engines, Aiden could feel the planet, a presence raw and wounded, steeped in the echoes of battles long past. The Force here was not silent; it whispered in uneasy tones, a memory of blood and betrayal clinging to every grain of dust. While under HIgh Republic domain, there was signs of renewal, but it would be long before the scars of the past would heal.

They were still healing.

He stepped from the ramp as it settled, boots sinking into the loose grit. Heat rolled off the landscape in shimmering waves, and his cloak caught the wind, snapping faintly at his side. He had tracked the thieves for three days across hyperspace, following fragments of transmissions that spoke of a relic steeped in corruption — a talisman once held by a cult devoted to the shadowed aspects of the Force. Its trail ended here, amidst the labyrinthine caverns beneath the planet's crust.

Closing his eyes, Aiden reached out.

The light came to him easily, a steady current that flowed through his breath and heartbeat. But beneath it, he felt it a tremor in the Force. Something foul. Ancient. The artifact called to any who would listen, whispering promises of power, of dominion over death. And though the thieves who carried it may not have understood what they stole, Aiden knew well enough the danger of leaving such a relic intact.

He began his descent into the nearest canyon, the rock walls narrowing around him like the ribs of some vast beast. The deeper he went, the stronger the pull became each step heavy with unseen pressure. Faint scorch marks painted the stone, signs of blaster fire and recent struggle. One of the thieves lay ahead, sprawled against the rocks, his weapon still clutched in lifeless fingers. His eyes were open, but there was no color left in them only a hollow reflection of the void.

Aiden knelt, brushing dust from the body. There was no wound. Only emptiness. The artifact was feeding now.

 

[Pal Veda]

Sand, dust, and sun. Rocky formations rising in the distance. Frankly, not much else.

Cut to a Zephyr-G swoop bike racing across the expanse, maximum throttle. The handsome driver’s face was mostly covered — the lower half protected by a shemagh pulled over his nose and mouth, his eyes hidden behind a pair of Rogue Squadron issued sunglasses. He glanced at the map projecting from the small datapad attached beyond the handlebars. The signal was getting stronger. Only a couple more clicks.

The idiots! Pal cursed the crew he was tracking. He’d told them not to go after the artifact. He thought he’d convinced them to abandon the mission. Everything Kumar had told him, all the research he sent him — this was a fool’s errand. Now they were paying the price. And now Pal had probably lost some of his best subcontractors in the process.

He came to the canyons and searched for a path down. It didn’t take long. He parked the swoop, grabbed his small pack, and headed out. Would anyone still be alive? Probably not. With the datapad tracking the beacon in his left hand and the trusty DL-44 in his right, he carefully began his descent, head on a swivel.

Surprisingly, Pal made it barely a kilometer before spotting someone further down the trail. But that wasn’t the source of his signal. Blaster raised, he cautiously proceeded, calling ahead, “Kumar? ’s that you?” He readied his finger on the trigger just in case.


Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda
​

The canyon walls closed around him as Aiden descended, the heat of Geonosis pressing in like a physical weight. The wind carried with it the tang of dust and iron, the kind of air that burned the lungs and stung the eyes. Yet beneath the harshness of the desert, he could feel it the echo of something unnatural, coiling through the Force like smoke in a sealed chamber.

He paused on a ledge, gaze sweeping over the jagged terrain below. A figure was moving through the canyon human, cautious, armed. Not a soldier. Not one of the thieves. His presence felt sharp but untrained, a blaster-sure mind hardened by survival, not meditation.

Reaching out through the Force, Aiden brushed the surface of the man's awareness enough to sense purpose and fear, but no darkness. Still, the Jedi's hand drifted toward his lightsaber. The artifact was near. It would be calling to anyone who walked within reach of its influence.

He stepped forward, boots crunching over stone as his voice carried across the canyon.

“Kumar? ’s that you?”

"Not Kumar, just Aiden Porte. Lower the weapon."

 

[Pal Veda]

Aiden Porte? What are the chances? Pal moved his finger outside the trigger guard and dropped the barrel toward the ground, but he kept his wits as he moved forward. He was relieved when he came close enough to properly identify the Jedi.

“Son of a gundark!” Pal exclaimed, now much more at ease. “I’ve gotta say, this is a surprise.” He hadn’t seen Aiden in a while, not since they were stuck on Tatooine with Sor-Jan Skywalker fighting a horde of poor farmers and Tuskens infected by the Blackwing virus. While Pal recognized him well enough, the Jedi had changed a bit since their last encounter. For one, he looked more like a refined Jedi and less like a rugged spacer. Good for him — assuming that’s what he wanted.

Turning back to the task at hand, Pal raised the inevitable. “Judging by our present circumstances, I think you can guess why I’m here.” His eyes briefly scanned their surroundings before turning back to Aiden. “And if you’re here, I’m guessing I’m too late.”

The datapad in his hand pinged, alerting him that the emergency beacon was now on the move.



Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda
​

Aiden's expression softened beneath the shadow of his hood, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The years between them folded for a moment, and it was as though the heat of Tatooine's twin suns still burned on their backs, the air thick with dust and the stench of infected flesh.

"Pal Veda" he said quietly, the hum of his still-lit saber lowering as he tilted it toward the ground. "Of all the places for paths to cross again." His tone was steady, carrying a note of both surprise and relief though his gaze never quite lost its edge.

He stepped closer, boots grinding over the red grit. "I'd say the chances are slim, but the Force tends to find humor where logic doesn't." The smile flickered again, brief, human, before fading to something graver. "If you're tracking the same signal I am, then yes you're late. But not too late."

"The artifacts ahead, deeper in the canyon, I can feel it feeding. If we don't destroy it soon, it'll draw in more than just thieves."

Aiden looked back to Pal, that same quiet steadiness returning. "I could use your aim, I know you still got it. But once we reach this artifact, if it starts lashing out stay behind me. It's not the sort of thing you want whispering in your head."

 

[Pal Veda]

“Feeding?” Pal asked, puzzled. Of course it was feeding. These Jedi and Sith fools never learned. For centuries the space wizards went back and forth, engaged in an endless power struggle, all the while sewing chaos across the galaxy. And many times that chaos manifested into real objects. Pal found himself on missions to retrieve these objects on occasion, usually for the Jedi. They’d fill his pockets full of credits then lock whatever holocron, talisman, or other imbued relic away, thinking this time it would be different, this time they’d keep it safe and under control. At least this time, this Jedi had enough sense to destroy this artifact.

Another beep, and Pal shared his information with Aiden. “I know the crew on this job. The head of the group is Kumar. Stubborn ole smuggler that never caught a break. He sent a transmission saying he’d found what they were looking for. Next thing I know, I get pinged by his emergency beacon, and radio silence.”

The air was still, but a shiver ran down Pal’s spine. He didn’t need a mastery of the Force to know something was terribly wrong here. This uneasiness caused him to grip his blaster a little tighter. “I’ve definitely still got the aim, you just keep whatever the hell this thing is out of my head.”

Pal took a look at the datapad and motioned ahead. “The beacon is pinging from further into the canyon, and it seems to be on the move again.” He transferred the tracking information to his wrist comp, slid the datapad into his small pack, and pointed in a southernly direction with the barrel of his blaster. “Let’s go take care of this.” With that, he was on the move.


Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda
​

The faint echo of Pal's boots against the canyon floor was all that broke the silence. Aiden followed a step behind, his cloak brushing over loose stones, eyes drawn to the horizon where the narrow cliffs swallowed the light. He could feel it more now, not the hum of life that came from wind, sand, or breath, but something hollowed out and echoing.

The Force here felt inverted, wrong. It didn't flow; it fed.

He steadied his breathing, one hand resting lightly on the emitter of his saber not to draw it, but to anchor himself. The hum of its kyber crystal was a familiar comfort, a reminder of order in a place that seemed built to devour it.

"Feeding." Aiden murmured at last, repeating the word under his breath. His voice was quiet, but there was a weight to it. "They should've destroyed it, whatever it was tied to. People, trying to control what should never be caged."

"I'll keep it out of your head." Aiden promised after a moment, stepping beside him. His tone was level, a calm counterpoint to the tension in the air. "But it will try. Relics like this… they remember pain. They call out to it. If you feel anger or grief, you'll feel it pressing harder."

A shift in the wind drew Aiden's attention. Dust swirled at the mouth of the canyon, spiraling upward into shapes that broke apart as soon as they formed. A whisper not sound, not even thought brushed across the edge of his perception.

He exhaled slowly, lowering his center of gravity, scanning the ridgelines.

"The beacon's moving, yes." he said. "But not on its own."

 

[Pal Veda]

Pal crouched next to Aiden, trying to pick up whatever the Jedi was spying off in the distance. He saw nothing of note, but his companion’s strange behavior was certainly cause for concern. An unusual feeling lingered in the air around them . . . He could describe it only as an eeriness. But it was odd. While his instincts told him to cut bait and run, something else called him forward. Shadows danced along the canyon floor, red swells of dust rising in random patterns with the breeze.

“We should keep moving,” Pal finally said, standing back up. They were closing in on the source of the emergency beacon, and he was eager to find Kumar. Maybe there was still a chance to save the poor bastard. Doubtful.

He continued along, the uneasiness growing with each step forward, his grip on the DL-44 tightening with each breath. Suddenly, Pal heard three beeps from his wrist comp, and he quickly checked the screen. “This signal’s gone,” he said aloud, the words rolling out before his mind could even process it. Did it die? Was it cut off? Why? “The last ping was just up ahead, maybe half a click.”

It was go time. Was he ready for what was coming next?


Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda
​

Aiden eyes narrowing toward the red haze drifting ahead. The dust was thick enough now to paint the sunlight a bruised orange. It caught on the canyon walls like blood in water. He could feel the smuggler's pulse quicken through the Force, a human heartbeat against a growing, inhuman rhythm that thrummed beneath the stone.

He said nothing for a moment. Silence, he'd learned, often spoke more than words in places like this. The Force moved differently here sluggish, heavy, as though weighed down by memory.

When Pal's wrist comp chirped and fell silent, Aiden's focus sharpened. The echo of the signal collapsing was more than mechanical. He felt it, a pull that snuffed out like a breath beneath water. The Force around them recoiled.

"Not gone." he murmured, voice low. "Consumed maybe, that's the price you pay if you try to wield unlimited power."

He stepped ahead, one hand lifting slightly as though feeling the air itself. The dust responded, swirling outward in concentric waves around his fingers. The ground below their boots vibrated faintly too rhythmic to be the wind, too alive to be tectonic.

"Half a click, you said?" His gaze flicked toward Pal, then back to the canyon's bend ahead. "Stay close. Whatever's doing this doesn't want to be found."

They moved forward together, and as they did, the light changed again. The canyon walls seemed to tighten, shadows deepening into something that wasn't quite absence but presence watching, waiting.

The Force whispered, a low pulse in Aiden's mind: fear, hunger, remembrance. This canyon was rank with it.

He stopped again, one foot planting firmly in the dust. "It's ahead of us." he said quietly, his saber still at his belt. "But not just the beacon. Kumar's there too or what's left of him."

He drew a slow breath, his tone steady but softer now, like a teacher reminding a student of something vital. "Pal… no matter what you see next, don't let it draw you in. It will use what's familiar."

A shimmer of movement flickered in the distance something vaguely human, half-obscured by the rising red haze. It turned slowly, looking their way. Before it began to steer in their direction.

 

[Pal Veda]

The world seemed to be closing in, walls narrowing, darkness growing. It created a sense of claustrophobia, a sense of urgency, a sense of paranoia. Deep down Pal knew it was a trick, but his instincts were being overwhelmed by illusions and delusions. Whatever this artifact, this relic, was, it had started its invasion into his mind. He tried to push back, tried to set it aside.

“Pal?” A voice called to him from the crimson fog ahead. He recognized that voice. “Pal, is that you?” A figure slowly appeared, hard to make out in mix of shadows and sand. “Pal, thank Yoda you’re here! It’s me, it’s Kumar!”

“Kumar!” He called back, slowly stepping forward, his sense of caution fighting a losing battle. “I’m here! I got your distress signal, I came as soon as I could.” What’s wrong? Something is off. “You good? You okay?”

The dust swirled more heavily, floating toward the two men. The two men. Pal had forgotten Aiden was beside him. It was like he was in a dream. Tunnel vision, singularly focused. The Jedi may as well have been on Coruscant. Pal maintained his grip on the blaster, but the barrel was now pointed toward the canyon floor, no longer feeling the need to defend himself. No threat.

“Kumar, answer me! What’s going on?”

“Pal . . . Help me, Pal! This thing . . . I need you to help me! Come, quickly!”

His feet felt like they were covered in blocks of durasteel and cement. Every movement felt sluggish, slow, tied down. “I’m . . . I’m coming, Kumar. Hold on!” Pal’s heart was pounding, adrenaline spiking, but the fog in his head thickened. Stop! You know this isn’t real! Stop!


Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda
​

The fog around them wasn't just dust anymore. The crimson haze shimmered with shapes that weren't shapes, echoes of thought given form. It crawled through the Force, and as Aiden reached out, he caught glimpses fingers, faces, fragments of memories that weren't his. Kumar's voice. The sound of blasterfire. The smell of charred metal and blood. It was trying to weave those things into something believable.

Aiden extended his hand, palm open toward the smuggler's back. "What you're hearing isn't him. It's a construct. The relic is feeding on recognition on your memory of him." His tone sharpened slightly, cutting through the hum of the illusion. "Look at me, Pal."

No response.

The Force around Aiden thrummed harder. He drew in a breath and exhaled it through the center of his being, letting calm surge outward like a wave. The energy wrapped around Pal in a faint, translucent shimmer a barrier not of defense, but of clarity.

 

[Pal Veda]

The hand on his back, the voice in his ear. It was familiar, yet so distant. Like something calling him from another world, another time. The vision of his old smuggler buddy, his words, they continued to pull at him, stronger now. “Hold on, Kumar, I’m coming!” The dream state continued to wrap around him, tugging him forward.

”Look at me, Pal.”

That . . . I recognize that voice. The fog lifted ever so briefly. Aiden . . . Aiden Porte.

His mind raced, conflicted. He felt a sudden urge, a need to pause, to think, to recalibrate.

Aiden . . . What is he doing here?

Pal brought his hand to his face, closing his eyes, physically clearing them with his thumb and forefinger, rubbing across his lids to meet at his nose. Think Pal! Think! This isn’t real. Aiden is real. Kumar is lost.

Thoughts and memories came rushing back now, suddenly remembering why he was here, his surroundings, his Jedi colleague accompanying him through the canyon. He nearly fell to the ground, but he quickly regained his composure and raised his blaster, aiming at the swirling dust of a figure standing before them.

“Get out of my head!” He yelled, firing off two shots into the nothingness that was the red haze.

Pal spoke over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off of whatever this was they were now facing. “I’m back,” he reassured the Jedi Knight, knowing a thank you would certainly be in order if they made it out of here.


Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda
​

The shots cracked through the canyon like thunder, ricocheting between the stone walls before being swallowed by the dust. The air hummed with the echo, then settled back into a low, pulsing quiet—the kind that always followed moments when the mind and the Force were at odds.

Aiden didn't flinch. He felt the vibration of the blaster's energy more than he saw the bolts vanish into the haze. His hand, steady and open, lowered fractionally but did not reach for his saber. Not yet.

"Easy." he said, his tone a quiet tether, grounding rather than commanding. "You're here, Pal. You're here."

He could feel it the lingering residue of whatever had clawed its way into his companion's thoughts. A presence not alive, but not gone either. The canyon itself seemed to breathe with it. The dust shifted like something aware, drawn by memory, by fear. Aiden closed his eyes for a heartbeat, letting the current of the Force roll through him, guiding his awareness around the edges of the unseen.

When he opened them again, his voice was firmer, gentler. "Whatever it was, it's feeding on what you remember. It's not Kumar. Not really."

He took a slow step forward, hand still lowered, his other outstretched slightly more for Pal's sake than for defense. "You did well to fight it off. Just… breathe with me. One breath at a time. Anchor yourself."

The wind picked up, carrying the faintest echo through the canyon, a whisper that sounded too much like laughter to be coincidence. Aiden's gaze sharpened, his presence in the Force tightening like a drawn bowstring.

"It knows we can hear it now." he murmured, eyes narrowing toward the haze. "Stay close. Whatever this place is, it remembers us, too."

 

[Pal Veda]

The fog faded, but the memory remained. Something had overcome him, overwhelmed him. It invaded his senses, completely disputing his reality. Now it was gone, fading into the wind. Was that laughter he heard? Laughing at him — for being weak.

Pal looked at his friend as he spoke. It remembers us, too. Why did Jedi always have to speak in riddles? Maybe they thought it made them sound wise. Maybe it did. But he couldn’t help but wonder if Aiden was just as confused as he was, despite his growing command of the Force. It didn’t matter. Whatever they were facing, he was glad to have Aiden by his side in this moment.

“Don’t worry,” Pal replied, his voice low, “I’m right beside you on this one.”

With his composure regained and his confidence returning, he scanned the path ahead where the crimson wraith had stood only seconds earlier. Their pursuit of the ghastly figure would lead them further into the canyon. Pal understood the need to stop this enigmatic enemy here before it could infect anyone else. Preferably soon, as daylight would only last so much longer, and he had no desire to fight ghosts in the dark.

“When we find it — whatever it is — do you know how to destroy it?”


Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda​

Aiden felt the canyon's hush settle around them like a cloak. He let the Force settle beneath his skin, a warmth spreading out from the center of him until every small sound the scrape of sand, the whisper of wind had a place. He stepped forward a half pace, palms open and visible, the posture of someone offering more than a promise. "When we find it." he said, his voice steady and low, "We don't smash it with metal or leave it to rot. We take it apart the only way something born of fear and shadow can be unmade."

Aiden's words were simple, deliberate. He pictured the artifact even before they saw it, a knot of cold light, an absence masquerading as power. "We will use the Force." he continued. "Not like a hammer, but like a river. We'll draw it into the current then we'll let the light do the rest. The strength of the light will unmake what the dark has built."

He let a quiet smile crease the corner of his mouth, not smug but certain. "We finish it fast. We finish it clean. And then we leave this canyon a little lighter than we found it."

 

[Pal Veda]

“Dismantle it with the Force,” Veda replied, “Got it.” He tried to hide the sarcasm, he really did. But these verbal puzzles were becoming a little much. He was more thinking about how a disruptor pistol would certainly come in handy in this situation. He’d been meaning to pick one up but never got around to it. Poor planning.

“Onward it is.” Veda proceeded along the dirt path, head on a swivel. Is it getting colder? The wind sent an eerie chill down his spine that raised the hair on the back of his neck. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

Just ahead, he spotted what looked like the entrance to a cavern or cave. Veda brought his hand up to signal Aiden Porte then pointed toward the opening in the wall of red rocks. That looks exactly like where an evil ancient artifact would be hidden.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda​

Aiden came up beside him, boots silent on the grit and shale. The cave mouth yawned before them, black against rust-red stone, darkness old and deliberate. He sensed it first as a pulse, not sound or motion, a wrongness pressing at his senses.

"Good eyes," he said quietly, gaze fixed on the shadows ahead. "That's where it's waiting."

He stepped forward, just feet from the cave. The air was colder, heavier. He took a slow breath, letting the Force move through him until the temperature no longer mattered. The light within him answered the dark with steady warmth.

"This place was built to keep things," Aiden murmured. "Secrets, power, pain. It doesn't care who carries them." He glanced at Veda, his tone softening. "Stay sharp."

Wind howled through the canyon mouth, sweeping red dust around their feet. Aiden squared his shoulders and stepped into the dark, voice low and resolute.

"It will take much for me to do this; it may be a breeding ground for sithspawn and worse. I'll need you to cover me."

The artifact was close, very close.

 

[Pal Veda]

The Force is a funny thing. Its boundaries are undefined, its powers dictated mostly by the individual wielding it. Some use it to peer into the future, others to control their surroundings, and still more to control the people surrounding them. And then every now and again you get a homicidal psychopath who imbues an object with pure evil that is lost to time, only to resurface at the most inopportune moment. Veda hated the Force.

Still, he followed his compatriot into the mouth of the cave, noting the immediate drop in temperature. And the immediate darkness. Veda retrieved his flashlight and powered it on, instantly illuminating the red dusty floor at his feet. He figured whatever was in here had supernatural senses, so being able to actually see was more of an advantage to the duo than a risk of giving up their position. He took an inverse grip of the flashlight in his left hand and used it to brace the blaster held in his right, then proceeded with the barrel leading his way.

The silence was eerie, but so were the breaks in the silence — random scuttering sounds, tiny feet pattering across the stone, occasional hisses or squeaks. Then a groan. It sounded almost human, but not quite. Veda’s eyes got wider as he slowly panned the light in front of them, searching for the origin. Nothing yet, but he was sure this cavern ran much deeper and was probably hiding more than just one secret — secrets that were best left untouched.


Aiden Porte

 

[Aiden Porte]

Pal Veda​

Aiden sensed it before he saw it, the cold pulse, a rhythmic tremor in the Force making the air feel wrong. The artifact rested in the center of a small stone altar, half buried in red dust, pulsing with a dark crimson light that throbbed in time with the cave's heartbeat.

He stepped closer, and the darkness moved.

From the chamber's far edges, something stirred, shadows slithered from cracks, the dark side weaving flesh from hate. The first sithspawn lunged before the sound reached him, a blur of claws and teeth. In one motion, Aiden's saber ignited, the blue blade carving through gloom, slicing the creature mid-leap. The second attacked from the flank, shrieking. Aiden pivoted, driving his blade upward through its chest, light scattering darkness.

But more came. He felt them crawling from the walls, dragging themselves from the dark like embodied fear.

"Pal, hold the flank!" Aiden called, his voice clear against the rising echoes. He stepped forward, blade in guard, its hum steady as his heart raced.

The artifact pulsed again, stronger. The Force twisted through him, cold and warm, pulling at his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, grounding himself not with anger or fear, but with purpose. With light.

He closed his eyes, reaching out. The Force swirled, the air, the stone. His awareness stretched to the artifact, the dark tide pressing like a wave, clawing at his mind and whispering of strength, release, control.

Then, Aiden pushed back.

 

[Pal Veda]

The Jedi was quick on the draw. Very quick. Aiden Porte had always been a gifted swordsman, but Veda was impressed with his perfectly timed silky smooth reflexes, slicing the first creature in half then impaling the second in what seemed like one fluid motion.

But you know who else is quick on the draw? That’s right. Pal Veda. When Aiden called on his help, Veda’s blaster was already aimed. Another vile creature leapt from the shadows, sharpened bloody teeth and ill yellow eyes contrasting with the dark flesh and even darker presence. Pew! Pew! Pew! With a ton of ammo and no idea what was needed to take these bad boys out, there was no use in holding back. The first bolt entered through its mouth and exited through the back of its head, with the next two leaving holes in its . . . Chest? Thorax? He’d save the biology lesson for later. This was physical education class.

Veda kept the beam of his flashlight synced to the barrel of his blaster, but even with his line of sight focused on the attacking beasts, he could see the pulsing crimson glow in his periphery. While Aiden focused on the artifact with his advanced space wizardry, he’d do his part to keep the creatures at bay.

Another lunged from behind, its growl giving up its position in time for Veda to face it. Pew! Pew! Pew! Pew! He fired as it flew toward him. Three of the four shots landed, but the lifeless body still crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. In an unusually acrobatic maneuver that impressed even him, Veda used the impact to roll backwards, kicking the corpse over and away as he tumbled and sprang back to his feet.

Still, more hissing and snarling from the hidden corners of the cavern. You better hurry up, Jedi!