Post
2 of 20
Location: Tash-Taral, 50 clicks south of the Great Valley
Objective: Discover the Tomb of Liber Mordu
Allies: Hokey religions and a good blaster at his side.
Enemies: Gravity.
The stone masonry was becoming brittle with age.
Stooped before a cracked, arched pillar, the small Anzat had a small datapad and a scanner out as he took some measurements. Graverobbers had clearly been through this section already. Not too surprising, given that it had been nomads who had discovered the exposed ruins and then sold some of its relics to passing traders. The bare rock still managed to tell some tales of history. The way in which the stone had been cut, and the bonding material used to join the different sections, were all indicative of Sith or Massassi architecture. Based on the carbon dating analysis he was looking at, Sor-Jan would have ballparked the construction of this wing of the temple sometime around the Krath Holy War and the Jedi Conclave on Deneba -- approximately 3,975 years before the Great ReSynchronization.
Under the modern galactic calendar that ought to be about 4,000 years before the Battle of Yavin, or 4,844 years before the current year. So, five thousand years ago... give or take a hundred.
The
Krath. Now, there was something that the small archaeologist hadn't considered. Originating from the Empress Teta System, and gaining momentum while fueling both the Naddist Uprising and Great Sith War, those Krath Crusaders who had survived the ultimate conflict had spread to the Outer Rim and fringe space -- most notably Korriban and the surrounding systems. Could Maligeia have been a Krath magician instead of a Sorcerer of Tund? Or could he have fled Korriban after being replaced by one of the Krath miracle workers? Collaborator or rival? Or merely a coincidence of history?
...
Curiouser and curiouser.
Folding up the compact scanner, the child returned the device to the pouch on his belt before doing the same with the palmpad he used for field notes. One thing was certain, the boy thought to himself as he started back down the broken passage of the ancient ruins, he was walking now where no man had trod for well over a thousand years. It was the strangest part to being an archaeologist. As a historian, Sor-Jan was accustomed to reading history, to teaching history, or even to researching history. But, walking through places such as this, there was a feeling of being
part of history. Of
walking through history. As if history were something tangible and he could reach out and touch it, simply by placing his hand against the stone of a pillar or standing in the presence of ancient ruins.
The young Corellian hadn't gone very far before the path ahead dropped sharply. Whatever had caused this temple to be swallowed by the earth, or exposed back to the light of day, had created no small gaps in the ground. The view down was unobstructed, revealing a structure beneath the floors on which the boy now walked. Through the darkness, the boy spied what he thought might be movement -- only he couldn't quite get a good enough look as to have been certain.
Or, was the floor covered with water?
Ground water most likely. Rain and surface precipitation filtered through the rock by gravity, collecting at the lowest point. Bringing a hand up to his face, the boy rubbed his chin in a subconscious gesture. Blue eyes peered across the jagged scar, glancing across at where the ruins ahead continued, as though torn between the debate of whether to continue exploring above? or below?
He had the benefit of daylight above, for at least as long as that lasted. And, no matter how enticing the possibility of uncovering the truth of Maligeia, diving head first into a temple of the Sith was
never a good idea. Raising his eyes, the boy found himself staring up at a shattered column. Perhaps the remains of some amphitheater or upper balcony that had sat atop the temple. The broken column jutted out just enough to where he could get a grapple line around it, except of course that it was already a
broken column.
Load bearing structure it wasn't. At least, not anymore.
Which brought the boy back to square one. No easy way forward. No easy way down. And more reason to keep going the one direction than the other. Plus, he weighed less than thirty kilos...
That seemed to answer that. Rising back to his feet, the child's hands dug into a pouch on his belt, pulling out a length of fine wire with a small hook attached at one end. Craning his head back, the youngling knight gazed up at the fallen pillar overhead while measuring out the length of the wire with pulls of his hand. Dropping the hook down from his throwing arm, the small Jedi began twirling the extended grapple in an anticlockwise rotation, before letting it loose with an underhand toss. The hook sailed under and over the pillar on the upswing, the wire catching against the underside of the now horizontal ruin and causing the hook to snap back. As the hook encircled the pillar, the young archaeologist pulled back on the wire, the grapple looping back on itself as it snapped it's own wire as it caught snugly against the stone.
Tugging at the wire some more, the boy tested the security of the line. Then, wrapping his hands tightly around the line, jumped from the ledge as he swung out across the open chasm toward the other side.
Now
this was some real Obi-Wan Kenobi chit.
...except, weren't you supposed to save the princess, romance the stone, or do your best primate impression while swinging through the air like this?
He'd just passed a little more than halfway when he suddenly felt himself drop a meter in the air. The crack which resonated just a half second later echoed like thunder through the temple below, as the pillar began to split along the middle.
This was
definitely his stop.
Making a desperate leap from off the line, stretching out with the Force and the memories of all his youngling days practicing the Art of Motion, the young Jedi let go the grappling line and found himself grasping for air as he lunged for the pathway ahead.
He was
going to make it.
He was going to make it. He was...
...nope.
Not going to make it.
He smacked into the broken cliff face just two feet shy of making the landing, his arms clapping down onto the stone floor as the underground mountain punched the boy in the chest. An explosive sigh was ripped from the boy, as the air was forced out of his lungs. Fingers digging for a hold, and boots scrapping for a footing, the child became red in the face as he quickly found himself out of breath, and not even a leg to stand on.
There was probably a metaphor in there somewhere about the boy's life as a Jedi Archaeologist.
A second peal of thunder echoed, as the pillar snapped into two -- then three -- different pieces and collapsed down into the ruins. Sor-Jan felt the rush of air as the heavy stone rained down behind him, bouncing off the sides of the chasm before arriving at the base of the lower section in what felt like an earthquake. The vibrations caused the boy to slip back, struggling to maintain a grip as he teetered close to the brink of falling from the ledge. Digging in with his fingers, the small Anzat found what felt like a niche in the rock with his boot. Settling his weight on that, the boy drew in a breath and focused on the Force as he brought his shoulders up and started to push himself up.
The footing gave way. The boy split his chin open as he came down face-first to smack against the ledge as he slid further back. Blood and sand trickled down his neck and inside of the front of his shirt as he dangled over the sheer face of rock.
Well, this was no better.
He should
really leave this
in the field chit to the Sentinels and Guardians. In fact, hadn't that been
the whole idea behind his turning down the Jedi Sentinels in the first place?
