Beneath the Sand

[Feorn]

Beneath the Sand

 

This is a short introduction to my upcoming (hopefully) FanFic. This is the first of three sections. Any comments/critiques/suggestions are greatly appreciated, and please feel free to be brutally honest!

 

When writing this FanFic, the way Miraluka see is important to mention. They see with the Force, and cannot therefore distinguish colors. I will therefore attempt to stick true to this while writing, any overly detailed descriptions using color will be in the authorial voice, not from his viewpoint. I may slip up here and there.

 

Dramatis Personae:

Mac Tal Cen – Lurmen Jedi Master

Moa’la Dalel – Human Jedi Knight

Dar C’than - Miralukan Jedi Padawan

Kjr-ak Rhogo – Sith Spectre

 

35 BTC: Above Korriban

 

“He is my responsibility”

 

“The council feels...”

 

“Then the Council is wrong, Moa’la. They have been wrong from the start of this business”.

 

Moa’la Dalel attempted to placate him. “The others will bring him back safely”.

 

Mac Tal Cen glared up at his former padawan. Despite his size, he radiated power. Perhaps only a meter tall, the Lurmen was still the most intimidating Jedi she had ever known. That is, when he needed to be.

 

“I will need a shuttle” pronounced Mac Tal with finality.

 

 

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Deep below the burning sands of Korriban, pain laced the mind of Dar C’than. He felt the flow of Korriban’s dark powers, the soundless screams of its currents. Most of all, he felt the piercing, burrowing presence of the Sith. Of Kjr-ak Rhogo.

 

“You cannot win. You cannot even fight. So weak.”

 

His thoughts blazed an agonising path through Dar’s mind. He could feel his consciousness shrinking. There is no death, he recited to himself. There is only the Force.

 

“Wrong again, child”

 

They sat cross-legged on low stone benches. Benches? In the tomb? There was no room, just sound and nothingness. Sound and othingness? He was fading, the madness returning. Opposite him sat the Sith. Blood red skin, jet black hair, golden yellow eyes.

 

“I have showed you the empty lie that is the Jedi Order. And yet you cling to their mantra like a drowning man clings to…well, anything. And make no mistake, child. You are drowning. Perhaps you have forgotten. Allow me to remind you.”

 

Images burst into his head, to many to see, to vivid to ignore. Screams, fear. Hatred. He watched as red skinned Sith were hunted down and slain, children, mothers, elders. Flashes of blue and green. Lightsabers. Jedi. Murderers.

 

Were these his thoughts? They used to be Kjr-ak’s. But now? He had read of the end of the Great Hyperspace War. Of the Supreme Chancellors instructions to the Republic and Jedi Forces.

 

“They allowed their hatred of the Sith, their fear of a return, to cloud their judgement” Kjr-ak mused, suddenly sitting beside him in a familiar, friendly manner.

 

It had to be done. It was a matter of expediency. Those were his thoughts, yet he did not agree.

 

“Oh, I know. Yet when the Sith, the Mandalorians butcher a planet, the Jedi name them servants of evil. And this is not the first time that Jedi have torn worlds asunder. Malachor V.”

 

How did he know? Rhogo had died at the end of the Great Hyperspace War, a long time before Revan.

 

“I met with Revan, child. I know. I know it all. The Council used him, took his choices away, his mind, everything. They would have done the same to you, had you not seen the truth. They will do, given opportunity. That is why you fled it is not?”

 

“Get out of my head!” He lost control. Lost his peace, harmony, serenity. For a flickering second, consciousness returned. Then it was gone. Kjr-ak glided back, sweeping into his mind.

 

“Now you begin to see.”

Dar knew what was to come. He had the brief notion that all this had been happening, over and over, all this time.

 

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain strength

Through strength, I gain power

Through power, I gain victory

Through victory, my chains are broken

The force shall free me.”

 

He could not be sure. Even if the Sith was right, he was being played. Manipulated.

 

“If I do as you say, if turning to the Dark side will rid my mind of your foul presence, why would you tell me?”

 

“Why indeed. Perhaps it is because you master scurries, vermin like, through the tombs now, on his way. Because when he arrives he will kill you to prevent me from claiming your body as a vessel, from returning to the Galaxy and waging a war unlike any other on your pathetic order.”

 

It could not be true. And yet, he could sense him. Dar knew his master; he knew his restraint, his calm. He knew his mind.

 

“If I gain control of your body, even your Master cannot defeat me. I am more powerful than you could possibly imagine. I am a dark lord of the Sith!”

 

Then why can’t you break me?

 

“Because a broken vessel cannot contain my power. He approaches. Make your decision. Use your aggressive feelings, your hatred; use them to drive me out! Do it or die, do it or you will force your master to strike down his own apprentice. It is the only way.”

 

He felt Mac Tal’s presence. He was close. And yet, Dar knew that Mac Tal could not help him drive the spirit from his mind. Before, when they first came in search of Kjr-ak’s tomb, determined to remove any dangerous artefacts, Mac Tal had tried. Rhogo had attacked Dar at once, delving into his mind, attempting to wrest control of the padawan’s body. And Mac Tal had tried. He had meditated, even here, even on Korriban, so deeply on the light side of the Force that both he and Dar together had cast Rhogo out.

 

“But I was not gone, was I child. I remained, I showed you images in your dreams, visions of the lies the Jedi spun to you. And in your madness, you returned here, to my home, for answers, even though the council had you locked away. And when you arrived, here at the birthplace of the Sith, I struck again.”

 

It was for my own good. They took me to Alderaan, to meditate and recover from my ordeal. It was wise.

 

“Did it work? No. They would have been forced to act, to wipe your memories and make you anew.”

 

You are wrong!

 

“Search your feelings, child. You know it to be true. And now, you have run out of time. He is here.”

 

Mac Tal would never hurt me.

 

“Then he will bring about the destruction of many. If he cannot kill you, eventually, I will win. I will take your body and strike your master down like the vermin he is. Then all will be chaos and sundering. All will be blood and gore! But you know of blood and gore, don’t you. You have already given in the dark side, here, deep in my tomb. He will see. He will know.”

 

Dar knew it was true. Sith he may have been, but his words had the ring of truth. He remembered the warm blood, the cauterized wounds, the….

 

NO! He could not have done any such thing. The Sith had twisted his mind, destroyed him, ruined him. He would have his body as a vessel soon. No. No he would not.

 

“No?” cooed Kjr-ak mockingly.

 

No. It was all there. Everything he needed. He had to drive Kjr-ak out. For revenge’s sake, for the sake of the Republic. For Mac Tal too!

 

“Good, good, child. Feel the rage abound within you.”

 

Dar screamed. Shockwaves reverberated throughout the tomb, tearing chunks of stone from age old ceilings, shattering pillars carved at the beginnings of time. Stone fell around him, but none touched his body.

 

And then there was nothing.

Edited April 29, 2013 by Feorn

[Feorn]

Dar stirred. He maneuvered his arms beneath him, but he felt weak. Without thinking, he drew on the Force, refreshing, revitalizing him. But, instead he felt a surge of power. A surge of hot, searing power. He was on his feet. When he looked down, nothing made any sense. The corpses, where had they come from? Half crushed beneath the fallen rubble, robed in the traditional garb of the Jedi Order, three bodies lay. He looked at his hands. They were covered in blood. He felt an odd, tingling sensation across his cheek. A lightsaber scar. It was fresh.

 

Dar C’than turned away. He stepped out of the carnage, light headed, and moved away. Everything was enhanced, everything was brighter. His species saw only with the Force, and now he saw the truth of things. When Mac Tal Cen stepped through the tall, fractured doorway, Dar saw him, sensed him, although he was facing away from him.

 

“Dar! Thank the Force you’re still alive”

 

He could not seen. He was blinded.

 

Mac Tal bounded nimbly across the wreckage of the tomb floor, over broken red stone, and broken red bodies.

 

“I Felt the tomb shake, and the Dark side, it burned with power. Dar….”

 

He stopped, and Dar turned to face him. He watched the Lurmen bend down, next to one of the bodies. He watched as Mac Tal turned in his direction.

 

“What have you done?”

 

They were killed by the collapse, Master.” It was a simple lie; he did not need to hurt Mac Tal with the truth. Perhaps he would see soon enough.

 

“No, Dar. Master Thesan was killed by a lightsaber.”

 

So he saw, as Kjr-ak had said he would. “I had too!” Dar shouted it, his anger echoing around the cave. He remembered now. He had been fighting, struggling to keep his mind intact when they arrived. They had attacked. He had no choice.

 

Mac Tal was standing now. “Padawan Qu’wre’s throat has been torn out. Did you need to do that, Dar?”

 

“You fool, they attacked me! I was winning, I was finally winning. He was almost gone when they arrived. Out of my head! And because of them, he gained ground. Too much ground.”

 

Dar stalked toward his old master. He towered over him, nearly twice the height, more than twenty times the weight. But the Lurmen didn't blink. He merely looked up at his padawan with large, luminous eyes.

 

“Dar, the Sith is controlling you, manipulating you. Fight against him, remember your training, remember the Code.”

 

“He is gone, Master.”

 

Mac Tal started at this. “Perhaps he means to trick you, as he did before. I sense great darkness in you. Great suffering.”

 

“He is gone. I drove him out. It was the only way.”

 

Dar saw it, deep within Mac Tal’s eyes. The understanding.

 

“Dar….” He said, imploringly.

 

“No. I have my mind now. The dark side gave the strength I needed. And I will not allow the Council to take my mind from me, as he would have done.”

 

“Dar C’than. Listen to me. Let go of your anger, let go of your fear. You can still return. Nobody expects you to be able to overcome a Sith Lord. They will not hold this against you, you were not yourself.”

 

“No, Master. Without the Dark side I will not be strong enough to be free. I see through the lies of the Jedi. The Sacking of Korriban? The Mandalorian Wars? The Jedi do as much evil as the Sith, except that the Sith do not lie. And if I was not strong enough, why did you take me on this assignment?”

 

He saw the strength leaving Mac Tal, saw him deflate with sorrow, with guilt. He was right. Mac Tal had miscalculated. It was his fault that all this had happened.

 

“You destroyed me, Master. You brought me here, you failed to help me. When the Council took me away, you didn't come and see me!”

 

“I am so sorry, Dar. The Council though it best that you have peace.” He looked like what he was, finally, Dar saw it. An old, tried, pathetic little rat.

 

“Peace is a lie.”

 

“No, Dar, you do not mean that.” It was said without conviction. Finally, the shroud had been lifted.

 

Dar C’than brushed past his old Master. “I am leaving now. I will be free, and you cannot stop me.” He made for the door, stepping around the broken rubble and shattered bodies of his old allies. He heard nothing behind him, sensed nothing.

 

With one smooth, arching leap, Mac Tal dropped to the floor in front of him, barring his exit.

 

“Don’t do this, Dar. You can be redeemed.”

 

“Get out of my way, vermin, or I will destroy you.” Dar inclined his head toward the fallen Jedi. “As I destroyed them”

 

He looked at the Lurmen. And he knew. He knew the fool would not let him pass. He saw the head fall in defeat, in resignation.

 

“I am sorry, Dar. I am truly sorry.”

 

“Save your sorrow, Jedi.” He spat the name like an insult. Master Mac Tal began to remove his robe. Reaching out with the Force, he grasped the rat and tossed him aside like litter. He felt the awesome power of Korriban, the maelstrom of dark side power that suffused him. Here, he was invincible. He turned to face his old Master.

 

In the fraction of a second he had, Dar barely avoided Mac Tal’s mid-air lunge. He leaped over the debris, creating separation. He flipped his lightsaber from his belt and ignited its pale blue blade. Mac Tal flew toward him like a beacon of bright, clean light, lightsaber raised. Dar threw a blast of power, but his master tore through it like paper and cut down with force assisted strength. Dar flicked it aside and kicked out, sending the Lurmen tumbling out of the air. He landed on both feet, and bounded forward again. His power was almost blinding. They clashed again; Mac Tal’s Shoto lightsaber dancing like a flickering green flame while Dar tried to assert his dominance with the powerful, controlling blows of Djem-So. But it was hard to control a foe you cannot hit. Even though they had sparred many times before in training, Mac Tal had never been trying to defeat him, only to teach him. And they never encountered lightsaber wielding foes, he had never seen his master really fight before. Mac Tal was like a whirlwind, he was everywhere, except where Dar wanted him to be. Dar fell back, drawing his power in, preparing.

 

Mac Tal pressed, his blade hissing mere millimeters from Dar’s thigh, who screamed a high, mad, feral scream. Mac Tal was thrown to the ground. He rose, one hand clutching his belly. Dar knew it had hurt. He could feel the pain. He drew on it, fed on it and screamed again. This time, Mac Tal drew the Force around him, protecting himself. Dar tossed stones, large and small at his foe, most missing in his haste. But they were a ruse. He gathered himself again, feeding on the power invested in the very earth, the stones and sand of Korriban. He unleashed a burst of power before leaping after it. Mac Tal dodged a pair of stones and shielded his eyes from dust and gravel, but the blast knocked him from his feet. He rolled aside desperately as Dar delivered a huge overhand cut.

 

The diminutive Jedi flipped behind his foe, but Dar expected the move and kicked out, disarming his former master. He leaped, spun and landed in a three point stance, driving his palm into the ground, unleashing a wave of power. Mac Tal was thrown back again, colliding with the wall before dropping limply to the ground. In an instant, Dar snatched up the Jedi’s fallen Shoto, activated it and flung it toward the prone figure. Then, before a half second had passed, he leaped after it.

 

Jedi Master Mac Tal Cen rose onto one knee, plucked his lightsaber from the air with consummate ease and delivered a single crosscut to his opponent. It sliced a furrow across his abdomen and removed his arm near the elbow. His pale blue blade clattered to the floor. The last thing Dar C’than felt was the pain blossoming across his stomach and the stump of his hand. He saw the ground rise to meet him, but he did not feel himself land.

 

Mac Tal approached the body of his fallen apprentice, lightsaber at the ready. He reached out with the Force, though it was hard, here, on Korriban. He sensed nothing. No life-force remained of the young man he had raised from the ages of seven to sixteen. A single tear dropped onto the blood that covered Dar’s lifeless hand. Now he was at peace, one with the Force. It was Mac Tal for whom the turmoil had begun. He reached out and crushed the boy’s lightsaber with the force. Then he turned, and began to lift the debris from around the bodies of his now lifeless comrades. When he could, he gathered their lightsabers, lifted their bodies with the aid of the Force, and began a slow and sorrowful procession toward the bright, unforgiving sun that blazed over Korriban.

 

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Moa’la Dalel watched as the shuttle swept through the force field that enclosed the hangar. She stepped forwards, sensing only her former master’s presence.

 

The bodies of their comrades were taken to the medbay to be properly prepared for cremation. Tentatively, she approached Mac Tal.

 

“He killed them?”

 

“He did.”

 

“And now?”

 

“He is at peace, Moa’la.”

 

“His body?”

 

“Is to be left in the tomb.”

Before she could offer any word of comfort, he turned to her. In his right hand she saw his robe, in the other his lightsaber. The most potent symbols of his profession. He offered them up to her wordlessly. She hesitated, shock written clearly across her face.

 

“Deliver them to the Council” he requested. She knelt down and took them from him with the same reverence the bodies of her fellow Jedi had been taken from the shuttle. It was, in effect, the same thing.

 

“Where will you go?”

 

He looked at her with his large, wide eyes. “Somewhere remote”.

 

She blinked a tear from her eye. “Will you return, master?”

 

Mac Tal Cen looked away from her, into the deep reaches of space. “My feelings tell me that I will, in time.” He placed a tiny paw on her wrist. “Until then, may the Force be with you.” She nodded.

 

“I will need a shuttle, pronounced Mac Tal with an air of tired finality.

[Syart]

Hoping for a bit more of this soon *hates cliff hangers*