The Ancient
Nothing came to Vardos, not since the First Order had scoured the surface of life as if in revenge for their greatest defeats. Perhaps even for the destruction of the two massive Death Stars by the ancient Rebellion as well. Few had come to Vardos since then, and fewer still had left alive. Storms flashed above, lightning struck all around, blasting the high mountains and hills with scorching white fire, yet nothing burned here. Just the foul smell of ozone carried on the winds of a time that had forgotten when the planet was welcoming to life and the living.
He was not the only thing alive on the planet, but he was the most powerful. As wind whipped about and caught his robes, flinging the tattered remnants around the slender being, the Dark Lord of the Sith - from days when the title had been taken by the greatest Dark Jedi to ever set foot on a planet - once ancient and powerful, now only ancient, crested the hillside. Each step taking immense will just for small gains. His heels scraped as he half-walked, and half-dragged his corpse-like body higher and higher up the hillside.
His face was like a skull, horrid and hoary translucent flesh, pulled tight over the bone and leaving the sight of his face underneath a goulish mask. His breath hissed through exposed teeth, punctuated by coughing fits that stopped him in his tracks and tightened every muscle left working in his body.
In spite of this, and all that seemed to hinder his ascent, he proceeded up the pathway undeterred. Each blast of electricity from the sky creating a halo of ghastly light and the smell of burning dirt and ozone.
Clutched in both hands was a rune-carved pike, made from ancient Impervium. A stone resistant to lightsaber strikes, rarely... perhaps never used in weapons, but more suited to fortified walls meant to stand the test of time against Sith or Jedi lightsabers.
It suited him though. Black as ash, and carved with ancient Sith Runes who's meanings were lost to time immemorial. At least - to anyone who wasn't it's weilder.
Higher and higher he climbed - a slow and agonizing ascent - to the peak of a hillside where once hundreds of desperate souls had reached up to the sky in pleading, only to be silenced by the turbolasers of the First Order's fleet.
There at last, the robed figure stopped to catch his breath, wheezing slowly while the cool air turned his breathing into bursts of steam.
His clawed and emaciated hand extended from his sleeve, then disappeared into his robe. From the folds, he withdrew a stone the size of a child's fist. Glowing like it contained blood within - though something far more sinister resided within this ancient Sith artifact.
With more strength than it appeared that the figure had, he jammed the end of his staff dead-center into the dirt at the top of the hillside, a cracking sound as the force blasted away rock and soil, leaving the rock beneath exposed. The figure held the gem for a long while, patiently murmuring over it. Sorcery perhaps? No, the words were not Ancient Sith Tongue. He was coaxing the souls within... promising them freedom, or an end to their torment with... oblivion.
A sound like distant howling, screaming, wailing, greeted what remained of his ears, and at last he lifted the soul-gem to the top, placing it neatly onto the lightsaber emitter. Once the gem set atop the staff, the runes from top to bottom lit crimson, with the same eerie bloody light as the gem itself. Stepping back slowly, the cloaked figure raised his arm to shield his face. A crimson light exploded from the staff and blasted through the atmosphere, disrupting the roiling clouds and creating a clear, star filled sky directly above.
The blast ended, and the gem fell dark, the staff losing it's power. Inside the gem was the spark of light dancing about, but the howls and screams and cries had gone silent.
He approached the staff and retrieved the gem, placing it back into it's hidden place within his robes.
The staff he grasped with his other hand.
A pulse, an echo of the Force had expanded from the hillside with a power that could not be ignored. It was a beacon. A pulsating tear in the Force that would beg for investigation. Plead to be mended, or would draw those seeking power or a powerful enemy. No Force Adept could ignore such a thing... and that was what the ancient creature was depending upon.
His ritual completed, the cloak figure began again his decent. Maddeningly slowly. Desperately weakened. The hillside was quiet though storms still raged around it. The wind had died, leaving his robes to hang calmly, sadly draped over his slender being, but the lightning continued to flash in the distance.
Now... he had but to wait.
* * *
Time passed, and more time passed, until the skies had roiled back into place. The clouds seemed undisturbed now, even though there was a distinct lack of the presence of lightning. No blue-white flashes, nor spears of white fire lancing through the darkness above. The black cloaked figure shook with frustration, wracked with coughing fits. No one is coming. What went wrong? Was the signal not strong enough? Should I have poured more power into it? Do I even have enough strength for another try?
The creature shoved himself back up to his feet, feet wrapped in hardened bandages, crusted with untold grime from the immense travel he had endured across this dead surface. His claw-like hands rose trembling to his cowl, and slipped it from his head. Revealed completely, it was a pale skull wrapped in translucent flesh. His eyes whirred and clicked as they adjusted to the dim light outside. First they began to emit red light, as he peered through the inferred structure, but found nothing.
Then they glowed a soft violet, as he scanned over the ultraviolet waves. Each time his eyes changed color, he searched a new spectrum of light or interstellar particle, but each change brought no new signs. Must I make the climb again? No... no... my body in this state cannot take much more, and resting will not regain enough vitality for a second trip. The Sith then closed his eyes, his eyelids offering little or no coverage, as his mechanical eyes could see through the thin membrane, but the act shut down the mechanical parts, blackening his sight in a way that simply closing one's eyes did not.
Cautiously, he reached out using the Force. His mind opened, his thoughts clear. Seeking through the pulse of lingering Dark Side energy for anyone... anything that might have changed it's course to answer his call. More of his power extended into the Dark Side pulse, amplifying it slightly -- perhaps just enough...
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