Private The Shadows Of The Past [Flashback]

[Darth Carnifex]

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Space distorted as the starfighters emerged from hyperspace, contrails of wispy smoke rolling off from their angled solar wings as the two of them shuddered to an abrupt halt. Behind the pair was a thick crimson miasma, a maze that had been considered impossible to traverse without the aid of the device plugged into both starfighter’s navigation controls. Darth Vornskr, Lord of the Sith and Voice of the Dark Lord, glanced from his fighter’s controls to the cold and dark planet that loomed just beyond the viewport. Though he had never once set foot on its surface, he could feel the Dark Side radiating out from its depths like a putrid wind from the gaping maw of some unfathomable beast.​

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Nerves steeled, Vornskr directed his craft down into the world’s electrifying atmosphere. Navigating on instinct more than sight, the craft tumbled and spun through the chaotic darkness; never knowing which way was up or down. Without warning the ground thrust up towards him, and Vornskr had to use all of his piloting skills to not smash headfirst into the cold earth. Leveling out, he swung his fighter across seemingly endless wastes of decrepit dust and rock before finally coming within sight of the only structure for uncountable miles.​

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A Sith Temple, a gargantuan truncated pyramid rising up into the air like the grave marker of a god. ​

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Vornskr brought his fighter to rest near the temple’s base, the hatch popping open and the Sith Lord dropping down onto the ground. The other fighter landed nearby, his uncle Braxus emerging from his own craft to stand next to Vornskr. Together, they strode towards the temple’s entrance, each step was taken with power and purpose. As they neared the darkened entry, Vornskr ignited his lightsaber to not only illuminate his passage but to protect himself from any who would lurk within. Though apparently abandoned, Vornskr knew better than most than ancient Sith Temples were a trove of hidden dangers meant to slay the unwary or the foolish.​

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And neither Braxus or himself were either of those things.​

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Inside was nothing but shadow and mystery, a single slab of stone bringing Vornskr and Braxus deeper into the ancient temple. As they descended, the statues of the Dark Lords of the Sith rose to meet them. Some he recognized, but there were many more who were utterly foreign to him. The lift came to a stop at the base of the statues, which now rose above Vornskr by several hundred feet. The causeways between the statues were empty save for the occasional pile of rubble or fissure in the dust-coated stone. All that greeted the two Sith Lords was profane silence, their footsteps echoing off of the decrepit ruins as they stalked along the rows of statues. ​

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Something drew the pair deeper into the crypt, an ancient power.​

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They would discover its origin.​

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Darth Prazutis ​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Undaunted.​

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The cold, barren, lifeless world was bathed in an eternal shadow that enveloped everything under a shroud of midnight. Everything about the world radiated malevolence from the blighted earth from which no life grew, to the putrescent winds. Despite its inhospitable environment a lone structure drew the attention of the two arriving Sith Lords. Alongside the Voice of the Dark Lord came none other than Braxus Zambrano, Arch-King of the Pacanth Reach, God-King of the Epicanthix, Majordomo of Darth Vornskr. Each purposeful step brought them ever closer to the seat of darkness, loci of power before them, the great sith temple that rose defiantly into the night sky. Despite the howling winds battering down the ancient stone over thousands of years it stood the test of time, weathering mother nature's fury. ​

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Every step only brought them closer to this tomb, this center of mystery that remained even as Kaine ignited a lightsaber, eradicating the darkness before its crimson glow as a lift carried them ever deeper into the darkness below. It was by all accounts that this complex appeared abandoned, the scars of history were seared into the ruins within, but history taught them much, they knew better about what could lurk within these ancient structures to keep out the unworthy and the foolish. But those who walked through its cavernous halls belonged to neither group. The further the slab of stone carried them the more faces emerged from the darkness, revealed by the sheen of the blade between the gargantuan pair. Colossal statues bearing faces of ancient Dark Lords of the Sith from ages long past. There were many who were recognizable to the pair, and many who still were not. It was a history spanning countless millenia, crossing ages into the past even beyond the age of the centuries old Braxus.​

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As they proceeded forward the true depth of the silence surrounding them became known, it was as profound as the silence of death itself for their very footfalls seemed to echo like booms of thunder through the unsettling quiet that surrounded these ruins. The splendor of this place had long since lost its shine to an invasion of dust, piles of rubble lay where they fell scattered across the floor as the pair moved with intent through the structure, they said nothing. Something drew them deeper into this crypt, a path taking them deeper into the abyss itself. It was a primordial power as ancient as history itself beyond the reaches of memory for even the longest living races, beyond most history books. A lone passage carved into the stone narrowed some in width, but maintained its mountainous height that carried them down until it widened into a cavernous chamber. The stone opened up to an immeasurably massive chamber, a long wide stone platform jutted out in front of them. In all accounts it looked as if they stood inside some otherworldly, immeasurably large assembly hall. In the very center of this circular chamber bathed in a twilight was a massive jagged throne unlike no other. ​

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Before this monolithic seat of black stone came many jagged spikes that surged from behind and around it as much smaller ones jutted out closer to the base while the long ones struck out and curved upward. There was an ancient power so great emanating from the central platform that it dwarfed anything they'd ever felt before, a presence carved into the annals of the past. It pushed through their forms with a pressure as if they were too deep into the crushing depths of the ocean. The pair looked into the eyes of one another. No words were exchanged but the message, the conviction and determination of these two were clear. They continued, pushing against the resistance of this wellspring until they stood right before this rocky monument. Before it the pair dropped down to both knees, their heads pulled down towards the ground. First there was silence...​

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Then something more emerged alongside them.​

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Whispers....​

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Darth Carnifex ​

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[Darth Carnifex]

"These Wayfinders will aid you on your journey, my Lords." Spoke the Sith Priest in the native language of the Red Sith, a language easily understood by the two towering beings who had come from beyond the stars. Gingerly, each Lord took one of the pyramidal objects offered to them, inspecting them in silence. They resembled Sith holocrons, like the ones uncovered on Korriban and Ziost, but they were less intricate and could serve only a singular function.​

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"And where will these devices lead us, Priest?" said the younger of the pair, his black hair flowing freely down from his scalp to partially obscure his features. The Priest smiled, knowingly, and spoke in a rather cryptic manner, "To a lost world of the Sith, oh Lords. One that has not been touched by living hands in hundreds of generations, unreachable without these artifacts."​

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"And what is it called?"​

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The Priest smiled again and spread his arms out. "It is called..."​

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Together, the two Lords descended the tomb's darkest depths. The whispers of the tomb's long lost secrets burned in their ears as they passed by gravemarkers whose inscriptions had been lost to time and erosion, though they still hummed with latent power. They passed through a break in the stone, drawn further in by a power that was beyond ancient. Before them rose a seat of power unlike any either of the pair had ever witnessed in their lives, and left them both awed and almost humbled by its sheer titanic magnificence. ​

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Though they said nothing, understanding passed easily between them. Together they fell to their knees on the cold harsh stone, dust that had laid dormant for many centuries kicking up at their trespass. Now the whispers grew stronger, more intelligible, as they focused on the darkness that surrounded them and opened up their hearts to the Dark Side. Time passed gruelingly, a new thin layer of dust coating the two Sith Lords as they sat there in quiet contemplation. By now, the whispers had grown into a dull roar that threatened to overwhelm their senses, but they retained their discipline and continued with their meditation. ​

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Suddenly, several apparitions appeared before the two kneeling Sith. They wore no discernible features other than high-hooded robes and silver masks, black acrid smoke billowing off of their nearly incorporeal forms. In unison, they raised their hands above their heads and together they spoke; "We are the things that were and shall be again, the spirits of the Sith!" They pointed down towards the still-living Sith Lords, accusing and hungry, "We want what is yours! LIFE!"​

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Then they swarmed.​

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Darth Prazutis ​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Quiet surrounded the two giants who said nothing as they silently weathered the passage of time and a new layer of dust started to form on their bodies. It was a legendary patience afforded to these immortals that stayed any movement while the darkness surrounded them. The whisper filled tranquility of the chamber was suddenly, profoundly disrupted by the appearing of many apparitions. Their forms were black as pitch, the edges of their essence flowed off like a rolling fog through the air while their eyes burned with an unnatural fury. This presence was undeniable, unmistakable. These were the spirits of the past, shades of the hidden legacy of the Sith Order. These past Dark Lords of formidable strength, and undeniable fury now assembled to hungrily challenge the two no flickers of life that dared to tread inside such sacred halls, to attempt to seize what rightfully belonged to the Sith Lords before them.

"Your time has passed. The torch has been handed down throughout the ages, it resides in our hands now." The Lord of Lies said standing. A surge of power flowed through his form, empowered by the wellspring of darkness the pair now stood in he reached out towards the first few ghosts and a shadowy energy emerged. Now in his connection with the Sith Emperor, his nephew the assault of energy seized the front ranks of the spirits and stopped them in their tracks. Something strange occurred as the front ranks dissipated from the blast of energy. It forcibly ripped the power from the legendary spirits forms, draining everything from such formidable beings that flowed through them. They were the future of the Sith Order this legacy passed through the ages now resided in their hands, along with everything that has come before. But in traditional fashion it would not be so easy to claim. They would need to prove themselves as Dark Lords of the Sith.

In the heat of battle.

Darth Carnifex ​