Lots of game dialogue in this one; Hoth actually isn’t so terrible, story-wise, and there’s really only two complaints I have about it. One is that there aren’t enough dialogue options that let the Inquisitor look smart, and the other is just that the planet is so long and empty.
Also, did you know Zabrak have two hearts? I did not until I was doing research a couple days ago, so I guess I have to go back and see if I need to edit earlier chapters now!
Random soundtrack of the day: Joe Hisaishi’s Sonatine seems somehow fitting for Hoth (used for traveling to the Star of Coruscant), even if it’s not quite the usual mood for Murlesson (would probably work better for Coerthas, come to think of it). (also a relevant track from Corpse Party, used for exploring tombs and being grouchy)
Part 16: Out of the Cooler and Into the Freezer
Part 17: Apogee
Days passed, and no sign of the Starrunner appeared. He even went back to visit the Ortolan clan that Horak-Mul had used to speak to him, but the ghost refused to talk to him, and any evidence they’d recovered from the beacon was gone, probably destroyed. And Thanaton was sending out another apprentice or three on an ‘unknown mission’… but surely his paranoia on hearing it was justified. Thanaton sent out apprentices all the time, on random mysterious missions, but not three at once. He had another week and a half before the fastest ship could get to Hoth, but after that it would be a race for survival. It already was a race for survival.
A really boring race, so far. Every day, he would go out on his speeder bike for hours – unless a storm passed through, and then everyone was stuck and even the droids and probes were useless – and scan for anything related to the Starrunner, and every day return empty handed. Though he saw a surprising amount of combat – twice ambushed by White Maw pirates, and once challenged to a duel by some weird Force-wielding pirate cult leader. At least the local Imperials were happy with him, not that they’d dare confess otherwise.
He had plenty of time to think again, and he found himself spending a lot of it thinking about Ashara. He’d been spending some time since she joined not thinking about her, or at least trying not to think about her, but now it seemed like he couldn’t help himself. How could he? She was beautiful, and strange, and rapidly gaining in confidence in both her saber abilities and in dealing with the outside world; her spirit reflected it, shining with a steadily-brightening glow in the Force. She was already better than him in physical combat, and she was only going to get better. And her odd, random, sometimes-nonsensical notions fascinated him, and her wide-eyed naivety and passion for life was strangely intriguing. He’d thought Jedi were either arseholes like Ryen and Kel Reu Giri, or annoying, like the Rurouni and Kentalon, but Ashara… he couldn’t think of her as just being a Jedi, no matter how she clung to the role and he teased her for it. She was… Ashara.
And Ashara was smoking hot and part of him really wanted to… well… he didn’t really know what he wanted to do. He was scared to think about it, really. And he certainly didn’t let on anything about his inconvenient attraction while she was around. She’d sense it, and then things would be really awkward.
Which still made it very uncomfortable for him when Ashara stormed past him in the commissary, clearly upset about something, and sitting with her back to him. “I’m not talking to you.”
“What did I do!?” he demanded.
“You didn’t do anything… personally. But you’re a Sith! And you know what Sith just did!? In the Corellian system, a group of them killed a group of free-traders for not giving them free passage to the Outer Rim. And don’t tell me anything about ‘Sith do things for survival’,” she said as he opened his mouth to answer. “They did it for fun. You were right, the other day. They don’t deserve any pity.”
He yanked his chair around to her table to have a proper discussion with her. “That’s what Sith do. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Well, you don’t do it, so why are you excusing them!?” She folded her arms and pouted at him. She was genuinely angry at him – very Jedi-like, that – and yet he still thought she was beautiful.
And this was not the time to think about that. “I don’t kill when there’s nothing to gain from it. There’s no nuance in it. Though if the free-traders weren’t going to give them passage one way or another, there’s probably nothing to lose from it either.” Assuming the free-traders didn’t have any big connections.
“That’s despicable,” she cried, and he actually reflexively reached out to make sure no one noticed that as interesting, turning any alarmed minds away. Not that he supposed tired, possibly-injured Imperial footsoldiers really cared if there was a Jedi in their cafeteria, not if she wasn’t attacking them and in his company. It wouldn’t blow any of his covers. But he didn’t need the attention. “Free will is the ultimate good, huh? Even if it results in the deaths of innocents? What about their free will? Their desires? I guess they should’ve been Sith.”
“That is generally the understanding Sith operate by,” he said sarcastically. He’d been a slave, he knew first-hand exactly what the end result was for the non-Sith.
He wasn’t sure if she remembered that, but it didn’t matter. “How dare-!”
He went on ruthlessly. “These Sith were pretty stupid if they couldn’t figure out how to get passage anyway. All they had to do was hurt one or more of them until they submitted, then remind them that they could have killed them all. Maybe include a bit of positive reinforcement as well, but in general being reminded that no one’s dead makes people a bit less resentful.”
“Oh, sure, very merciful,” she snapped, even more furious. Possibly on the edge of succumbing to the Dark Side, if she wasn’t careful – or at least on the edge of hurting him. “I can’t believe you. I thought you were better than this. Sith are so selfish!!”
He thumped a fist on the table and she jumped; he glared at her straight in the eyes. “If I were broke and needed to get to the other side of the galaxy in a hurry, I would absolutely do exactly that. I’m not saying these Sith were justified in murder. I’m saying I don’t know where you got that idealistic notion about me.” He withdrew into himself again, dropping her gaze. He… was starting to want to live up to her idealistic notions, to make her happy with him, to make her like him… but it wasn’t possible. And that was… surprisingly depressing.
“Maybe from watching you interact with your followers,” she said quietly. “Or just from talking to you. You don’t want to hurt people-”
“Don’t I?” He snarled. “With this much Darkness in me, you think I don’t want to hurt anyone?” He grabbed his food and stomped away.
“Flouncing doesn’t make you right!” Ashara called after him. “It just makes you even more of a jerk!”
He was sulky that day and the next, especially since he felt he was running out of time. The first week was gone, and he’d found nothing. His stress was leaking into his dreams uneasily, bringing visions of Thanaton chasing him zombie-like across a cold white void. Did he want to gamble on the notion that Thanaton’s latest unusual action had nothing to do with him? He had a vague idea where the temple of the Sadow’een was supposed to be, and though he didn’t want to – didn’t even want to hint that he was considering the ghost’s proposal – he went there on the second day, just to see what the area looked like. To see if it was worth continuing to fight this ideological battle.
It was at the bottom of a deep glacial fissure that had been developing for centuries, so that was nice, not having to blast through tens of metres of ice. He didn’t pick up any signals from the Starrunner, so no ironic hiding places for him to discover. And within… He didn’t go far. Revel was with him, as it was pirate territory, and he didn’t want to investigate without his whole team and Drellik present. But he sensed traps, powerful ones, sensed old technology, strangely alive in the Force.
He turned to go and nearly ran into a droid – correction, he realized after he definitely didn’t jump – a frozen iceblock that had a droid inside. A droid of ancient design, rounded and bronze-hued. So there were droids within, probably mobile defenders to deal with any clever enough to evade the traps.
Now he had a decision to wrestle with. If he wanted to destroy the temple, he needed a few days first to at least document everything in it. If he still destroyed its contents later, well, there was always the danger the ghost would renege on its promise regardless, but surely it would be content with the destruction, even delayed. And if it did renege after he destroyed everything, he would be very harsh with it when he did find it.
But he didn’t want to destroy it. Even if he was stealing this ghost’s power, its very being, he didn’t owe it his obedience. The dead had no rights. And he didn’t want to do something so heinous to a different source of power that he might use. It wasn’t like Thanaton would chase him here personally like in his dreams… would he?
The silence of the wastes and the shadows of the evening pressed in on him, over the noise of his speeder bike and the shadows in his thoughts.
Did he take the quick and sure but painful route, or the slow and dangerous and probably more painful route? If he left to draw off pursuit, when would he be able to return? When he was so close already? What was the point of waiting?
Putting it those ways, there was only one option he trusted. At least he’d tried to look for another path, but there wasn’t one this time, not one that was viable.
He headed for Drellik’s conference room when he got back to Thesh Outpost. “I’ve decided. I don’t have time to find the Starrunner manually. I’m sorry.”
Drellik nodded. “I understand, my lord. I’m grateful that you attempted it anyway. How many days will I and my team have to document everything?”
Murlesson had done the calculations over and over again. Ten days from Dromund Kaas, maybe eleven if they were being slow, and then three days for them to follow his trail this far out from the spaceport; seven days gone, squeezing one day in to actually find Horak-Mul after destroying the temple… Once he had the power, he wouldn’t care so much about the apprentices, so they could come as quickly as they liked after that. “Three days after I manage to disable the traps and the droid guardians. Maybe a bit longer, but if you can get it done in three, it would be a weight off my mind.”
He couldn’t look for the ship manually indefinitely… but he was giving up at the very first sign of trouble. And dreams had influenced him. Pathetic, really. Was he really so afraid of Thanaton’s forces?
No, he was just afraid that Thanaton would adapt faster than Murlesson if he was stuck here. Thanaton already had the upper hand. There was no need to give him more of it.
“That’s quite generous, my lord! I’ll brief my team and prepare the equipment at once, and we’ll set out tomorrow at first light.”
“If this place is truly untouched, there will be more than just traps and droids trying to stop us,” Murlesson said.
Drellik smiled confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you inside if you can manage the combat matters. I’ve been circumventing the security of ancient tombs since I was old enough to hold a data spike and a pair of pliers. Haha, but I have far more advanced equipment at my disposal now. It’ll open tomb doors and make tea while you wait.”
“Sounds handy… if I liked tea,” Murlesson said, amused. “Question.”
“Ask away!”
Murlesson frowned, hoping he wouldn’t hate the answer. “How did you know me, when we met?”
Drellik smiled. “Oh, Lord Murlesson, you’re well-known among the Reclamation Service for recovering Tulak Hord’s artefacts. I imagine you never really took notice of the Service before; most Sith don’t. But we try to keep up with all archaeological developments, especially ones we didn’t do. After all, there’s always the chance our paths may cross eventually! As ours did.”
“Hm.” Reasonably convincing… He’d allow it for now.
“My lord, if you have no more need of me, I’d like to call my team for a briefing.”
“May I sit in, or will I make them nervous?”
Drellik looked surprised for a moment, then nodded cheerfully. “Absolutely, my lord! It would be an honour.”
Ashara came to find him as he was eating dinner; he was still technically sulking, but he wouldn’t turn her away, not when contrition was written so strongly through her spirit. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t have tried to pick a fight. I was upset, and I let it get the better of me, and it’s inexcusable.”
He shrugged, not looking up. “Whatever.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be moody on me. Er… I mean, I guess you can, it’s not like I can stop you…”
He flicked a glance up to her. “Really, the shocking part is that we don’t have more fights, what with how we’re so ideologically opposed.”
She made a wan smile, sitting opposite to him. “True. You’ve been very patient and understanding, and I’ve… I’ve been a whiny baby.”
“I believe your exact words were, ‘Flouncing doesn’t make you right, it just makes you more of a jerk,” he said, and she winced. “You misunderstand. You’re hardly a whiny baby by Sith standards.” Patient and understanding? Him? …Maybe from a certain point of view, but, he wouldn’t have thought from hers…
“You are a drama queen… but… I was angry,” she said, squirming uncomfortably. “I know you’re not going to change, not quickly, anyway, and normally I try to pick my battles… try to come to an internal compromise that will let me live with my conscience and yet be compassionate of your situation…”
“Are you done confessing you’ve been trying to convert me?” He wasn’t even offended by her naive arrogance, just amused that she was so open about it and yet unaware what she was doing.
Her eyes went wide. “I-I wasn’t! Although now that you mention it, it sounds like I was. Well, I… I’m not sorry about that, I’m trying to be true to myself too, and I’m… not supposed to let people get hurt, you know? But that includes you, and in this instance, I let my emotions get the better of me, and I shouldn’t have. I’ve done a lot of meditating over the last couple days, and it’s led me to resolve to try harder. Uh, that is, to do better.” She added under her breath, “There is no try.”
“I think you’re fine the way you are,” he said, before he’d registered that those words could be taken as flirtatious. He felt a spike of nerves. To cover up, or hope she didn’t notice? “Anyway, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Even the manipulation, honestly. That was a futile endeavour… It wasn’t like she’d be able to turn him into a Jedi.
“So I’m forgiven, then?” she said plaintively.
“Yes,” he said impatiently. “I’m not upset that you’re upset about Sith being stupid. Listen, if I don’t die, I’ll make the Sith stop being stupid.” By killing all of them, but he was pretty sure she would balk at that part.
That squeezed an unexpected laugh out of her. “Don’t make silly promises. I’ll be happy if you just let me stay with you.”
“You really set the bar too low,” he grumbled, and she shrugged cheerfully.
“Okay, then maybe you should apologize for fighting too.”
“All right.” He hesitated a brief moment. He hadn’t said anything wrong, had he, in their little spat? Everything he’d said had been correct, and he wasn’t exactly sorry, but it would make her feel better and… and the words coming out of his mouth were shockingly genuine. “I’m sorry I made you upset. I… missed you.” He shouldn’t have said that, even if it was true.
“Aww.” She reached out to touch his hand, and he didn’t move, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted even her touch right now. Her fingers were warm on his, surprisingly warm considering it was only about fifteen degrees inside. “I forgive you, and I missed you too.”
It was surprisingly cathartic, and he felt weirdly vulnerable about it. He tried to cover with sarcasm. “So tell me, did you come to this conclusion because you heard we were going to the Sadow’een temple tomorrow?”
Her eyes widened. “What!? No! I honestly- Oh. You’re teasing me.”
“Because your timing is a bit suspicious.”
She pouted. “I mean, I guess we can have another fight if you want me to prove I wasn’t apologizing for fun and profit.”
“I don’t think it’s worth the effort,” he said. “Being on Hoth is tiring.”
“You’re absolutely right about that,” she said, smiling in agreement. “I’ll save it until we’re back on the Viper.”
Later that evening, in his temporary quarters at Thesh Outpost, Murlesson found his personal comm going off. He flicked it on and saw Aristheron’s bearded face. “Murlesson. Do you have a moment?”
“I do, actually.” Very good timing on Aristheron’s part, in between all the tedious travelling and the prowling around archaeological sites. And Aristheron surely had no idea what the local time was for him; it was lucky he hadn’t called in the middle of the night. “What do you need?”
“I need nothing; I called to ask yet again if you would not consider joining the military through normal channels.”
Murlesson stiffened. “You found something for me.”
“Yes, well, before I advocate disrupting the functions of the military – inherent faults notwithstanding, I probably know them better than you, before you say anything – I thought I’d try one more time. I’m not fond of the idea of you crashing into the middle of operations to make off with the sort of force you’re looking for, untested, for inter-Sith strife while the Empire is trying to gear up for galactic war. I’m all in favour of maintaining one’s own holdings against one’s rivals, but there are procedures to be followed. And I’m assuming you’re not planning to give it back when you’re done so you can start again properly.”
Murlesson gave him a pained smile. “And how long would it take me to gain a force large enough to protect myself and my bases, starting from the lower middle as an untested, as you say, junior alien of a Sith? Thanaton could run roughshod over anything I could gain at entry level, given I don’t have your contacts.”
“You have me as a contact,” Aristheron said in exasperation. “Not all preferentialism is bad when it elevates someone deserving.”
Like Colonel Yudrass? “Just tell me what you found. I might not have time to follow through any time soon anyway.”
Aristheron grimaced. “Very well. There is a Moff named Jovakor Bilsane who commands the Forty-Fourth Imperial fleet. He is a dishonourable bully, abusing his position for personal gain and to further the interests of his patron – whom you will be interested to learn, is Thanaton himself.”
Murlesson smiled a sharp smile. “That makes him an audacious target. To steal one of Thanaton’s own fleets…”
“Bilsane isn’t the only one you should know about,” Murlesson said. “Admiral Pyron, next in the chain of command, is a good and competent man, but was unfortunately transferred to the Forty-Fourth some time ago. He could be a Moff by now, but for some hidden politics that I have no desire to get involved in.”
“That’s more my thing anyway,” Murlesson said. “So you’re suggesting I remove Bilsane and put Pyron in his place, and it would be beneficial to the Empire?” More importantly, it would place Pyron in a debt to him, unless Pyron considered it more of a burden than a promotion. Unlikely.
Aristheron gave him a dry look. “I know you’re not as patriotic as I am, but I appreciate the thought. Yes, Pyron would be much better for the Empire. He doesn’t order bombardments of civilian targets, or execute underlings for minor transgressions.”
“Or eat babies,” Murlesson murmured to himself. Really, half the senior officers in the fleets were rumoured to do at least one of those things. Bilsane didn’t stand out for being cruel.
On the other hand, these rumours of politics intrigued him. He’d have to do some digging, once he got out of here.
Aristheron glanced off to the side, then back to him. “I must go. I hope your journey is going well.”
“Quite well, depending on who you ask,” Murlesson said, a non-answer if ever there was one. “I hope yours is too. Crush the Republic and all that.”
Aristheron smiled slightly. “We’re not at war yet.”
“Shows how much I know.” Or care. “Good night.”
“Good bye.”
His whole team was assembled, alongside Drellik’s entire team, but the Reclamation Service would be setting up camp outside the cave entrance while he took Drellik and his companions inside to challenge whatever lay in wait there.
Almost immediately, they were met with more droids like the one he’d seen frozen outside, and combat erupted between them. Murlesson blasted them with lightning, which stunned them long enough for Khem and Ashara to wade in, and Revel picked off the outliers.
And then electricity struck before them, one of the ancient traps. Too obvious; Murlesson hadn’t even been close to being caught in it. But where there was one obvious trap, surely there was another, less obvious trap…
Lasers! He spun and parried, and Revel began shooting the hidden beam mounts out of the wall methodically. This tomb was a lot more modern than the one he’d gone into on Yavin 4.
But surely there must be… “Lieutenant, is there some control access about?”
“I’m scanning for it now, my lord, a moment, please.”
“Yeah, it would make it a lot easier if we could just walk in,” Revel said.
“And then you can study the defences too!” Ashara put in, taking over deflecting shots from him. She was better at it. “I wonder how many intruders they were expecting? This isn’t so bad.”
“Some of them are probably broken,” Murlesson said. “This would have been built nearly two thousand years ago, and while ancient Force users were much stronger than the present day, ancient technology is not usually as good.”
“Is there some kind of correlation there, do you think?” Ashara asked, beginning to slow down as Revel shot out the last couple emplacements. Khem, who was not useful against lasers, grumbled quietly and tapped his bare clawed feet.
He shrugged. “There could be, or there could be many other causes for our decline in power and ability. Some have argued one way, others another. I would lean against the correlation theory myself, but I don’t feel I know enough to pick a theory and fight for it.”
“What do you think then?” Revel asked, spinning his blaster and then holstering it.
He hesitated. “Not that I’ve thought about it much, but I am more inclined to believe that over the millennia, the minds of most sentient species have become more and more closed off to the Force. And I couldn’t explain why.”
“Well, I hope you’re not going to say ancient peoples were smarter than us, or that we’ve gotten lazy,” Ashara said. “I’m pretty sure people have always been people, just developing the skill sets that suit their environment.”
“I’ll agree with you there,” Murlesson said. “I guess there’s also the fact that a lot of metaphysical knowledge has been lost, whether from masters taking their secrets to the grave, or the destruction of holocrons and artefacts…”
“Which is why our work here is so important,” Drellik said. “To obliterate all this history without a trace… why, we’d be orphaning ourselves. A culture needs the hand of the past to guide it. I think I’ve located the security controls, by the by. If they haven’t rusted completely away…”
Murlesson was still on his train of thought as they followed Drellik back a short ways and into a side passage he hadn’t seen on the way in. “And for all the Sith Empire’s alchemists and sorcerers scrabble at rediscovering lost techniques, there simply isn’t enough innovation to bring back the Sith to what they used to be.”
“Which is good, because the Jedi don’t exactly move quickly either, especially when it comes to researching new combat techniques,” Ashara grumbled.
Drellik looked in surprise at her, in between examining the wall with a hand-held scanner. “Miss Ashara, you’re a Jedi?”
“Oops,” she said, looking stricken. She looked at Murlesson, and he nodded for her to keep going. “Um, yes, I am. Murlesson didn’t try to turn me to the Dark Side when I joined him, and I appreciate it.”
“Fascinating,” Drellik said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear about what you know of Jedi history. Research on them is, naturally, somewhat restricted in the Empire, but we could fill in a lot of blanks, I think, if we knew both sides of the stories!”
Ashara perked up again. “I’d love to! Not that I’d be much help personally, but I’ll do my best. And… thanks for not turning me in.”
“I’m not going to question Lord Murlesson,” Drellik said heartily. “And, here we are! Let’s see if it’s still working.” He brought out a small hammer and began to tap the ice in a few places, until a small sheet cracked and fell from the wall to shatter on the floor. Behind it was a small bronzed panel. Drellik peered at it. “Hmm, let’s see… Everything looks as good as new from the outside. That’s one benefit of working on a frozen world, at least. Not like a swamp world, or Emperor forbid, an urban world. Hopefully the internal mechanisms and computers also work!” He pulled a lever and pushed a few buttons.
There was the sound of something powering down, and the lights came on, to boot. Drellik clapped his hands. “How lovely! Whatever power generator this place is using still functions perfectly.”
“Pretty sure the traps already told us that,” Revel said.
Drellik shook a finger at him. “There’s a difference between being in a passive, monitoring mode for two thousand years, only activating for brief moments of time, and being asked to return to active functions suddenly. We will have to check the power generator, however, and make sure it isn’t on its last legs. Well, let’s see if that did the trick with the rest of the traps and guardians.”
The traps seemed to be disabled, from what Murlesson could sense – no threatening vibes came through the Force to him as they returned to the main corridor and moved inwards. But the droids hadn’t gotten the signal, and suddenly swarmed them as they got close to a very large and ornate door. Khem snarled and began to cleave them in half without waiting for orders. He wasn’t very satisfied, Murlesson could tell – droids were not very good for sating bloodlust.
“Lieutenant, if you’d like to get started on the door, we’ll deal with the droids,” Murlesson said, twirling his lightsaber.
“Right away, my lord! Let me see…” Drellik began muttering to himself, probing and poking at the door. They were backed rather into a corner in front of the door, but there were four of them. The droids didn’t stand a chance. Ashara was doing very well, and as their opponents thinned out, he dropped back as she pushed forwards. He didn’t mean to watch her, but she was eyecatching, her twin blue sabers flashing fluidly as she blocked a shot with one and decapitated a droid with another. No, impressing her with his combat skills was not an option, not when she was so much better than him already.
He blinked and shook his head. That was random, and irrelevant, and he hadn’t thought about impressing her for weeks, why was he thinking it now?
About the same time Revel shot the last droid, Drellik gave a cry of triumph and the door ponderously began to grind open. Drellik trotted through, somewhat careless of any potential danger on the other side, gasping at the carved stone walls. “Unbelievable! These look like the catacombs. The rest of the temple must’ve been above, now destroyed by the elements. Once again, I must express my gratitude that you are allowing me to record everything.”
“I truly wish I didn’t have to, but I don’t fancy holding off increasing waves of Thanaton’s forces while we look for this stupid ship.”
<That is what minions are for,> Khem grumbled sourly. <Tulak Hord would have sent me out to devour->
“Tulak Hord would have done whatever necessary to attain power as quickly as possible,” Murlesson said sharply. “So would Naga Sadow. So would they all. They would have made a beeline here, recorded it, and destroyed it immediately, rather than wiffling about for a week. I’m the sentimental fool who wasted time.”
Khem growled.
“I don’t think you’re a sentimental fool,” Ashara began.
“You know I’m right,” Murlesson said to Khem; he could feel Khem’s displeasure both at being corrected, and that Murlesson was a sentimental fool. “Here, if you let Zash out to play with the shiny toys, I’ll let you destroy it all once we’re done.”
Khem glared at him. <Destroying the bones of the dead is nothing compared to slaughtering the living.>
“Says the Dashade hung up about recovering Tulak Hord’s bones.” Apparently Zash had had a small hidden warehouse here on Hoth, unrecorded in even her deepest files – sneaky, he would have to do that for his own secrets – in which she had placed several unbelievable treasures, including several pieces of Tulak Hord’s skeleton. She had intended to use them as leverage over Khem after she took over Murlesson’s body, but they were useless to her now. They were now safely stored on the Viper. What Khem wanted to do with them after they got out of here, he didn’t know yet. Cuddle with them, maybe.
Khem grumbled wordlessly, then faded away.
“Ah, apprenti- Murlesson!” Zash cried cheerfully. “What have you summoned me for? Ah, we’re in the catacombs of the Sadow’een, aren’t we?”
Drellik blinked. Murlesson wondered whether it was worth explaining Zash again, to yet another person. It was to Drellik’s credit that he was taking all these revelations about his odd little band in stride. “We’re about to begin cataloguing everything before I let Khem smash it, so… have at it.”
“With pleasure,” she said, turning to Drellik. “You, ah, Lieutenant, would you happen to have a lens I could borrow? This creature’s eyesight is not so good for small details.”
“Er,” Drellik said, staring up at the intimidating beast asking for a magnifying glass. “I suppose I do! Lord Murlesson, perhaps I could now call my team in and we can begin in this antechamber while you secure the rest of the catacombs?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Murlesson said, and gestured for Revel and Ashara to follow him.
Drellik was extremely thorough with his team in recording everything possible, from every angle, 3D scans and holos and measurements and molecular testing and everything Murlesson could have thought of to record what had been there.
It took most of the three days he’d allotted to get it all done, but at length it was. It had been wonderful, to watch professionals at work, to have Drellik show him personally how to document everything properly, the techniques for testing and everything; he wondered if he’d ever had such a willing student before. Ashara had helped too, and even Zash-in-Khem’s body, and Revel had strutted around as ‘security’ even though there wasn’t much left to bother them. And as the Reclamation Service unit packed up their things when they were finished and prepared to leave, he felt melancholy. Yes, they’d done everything they could to save what could be known for posterity, but… he’d gotten to know the things here, the place, gotten attached in a way he’d told himself not to and couldn’t help… He really was a sentimental fool. Deliberately, he hardened his will and his gaze. “Khem.”
Zash sighed. “I suppose it’s back to sleep for me. I’ll see you next time. Have fun!”
“I’m sure Khem will have great fun,” he said dryly, as Khem shook himself, growling. “We’re done. Have at it.”
<As you wish, my master,> Khem said, and drew his broadsword.
There were a few things that a broadsword couldn’t deal with, and he had to help out with his lightsaber, hacking viciously at the urns, the sarcophagi, the smaller items left by those last in the catacombs.
It took a lot less time than documenting it, and after half an hour, covered in sweat, he was reasonably sure he’d gotten ‘every relic, every bone, every ornate bauble”. He activated his comm. “Drellik, it’s done. I’m coming out.”
“Understood, my lord.”
As he reached the entrance where his team was waiting, Khem behind him, Revel stiffened and drew his blaster; Murlesson hadn’t sensed danger, and turned to see one of the fallen droids following him, the Force dragging it upright in a mockery of functionality. It spoke, using the droid’s vocabulator, in Basic. “Thank you, Sith, for your help.”
Drellik gasped, and began taking holos. “Fascinating! How is this possible? It doesn’t appear to be technological…”
The droid spread its arms. “To see those pawns of Naga Sadow crushed, their graves defiled. Normally I’d consider myself above revenge, but this… pleases me.”
“No one else cares,” Murlesson said, affecting boredom. “I think I liked your old puppets better. More lifelike.”
“I find Naga Sadow’s droid aesthetic somewhat lacking myself,” Horak-Mul retorted, holding up a robot hand and examining it with a robot eye in distaste. Murlesson kept his cool. Naga Sadow was not overly known for his droids; Horak-Mul was just trying to get a rise out of him.
“The ghost!” Drellik exclaimed in a whisper. “Never in a million years…”
“Only just put it together?” Revel said. “The sinister feeling didn’t give it away right off the bat?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Andronikos already shot this one,” Ashara said. “The dead don’t just rise, even if they are droids.”
Khem snorted. <A coward’s trick.>
“You should keep a tighter rein on your minions, young Sith,” Horak-Mul advised him.
“That’s none of your business,” Murlesson said. “Where are you? What’s left of you? I held up my end of the bargain.”
“And I will hold up mine. The Starrunner may be found in the belly of the mighty superdreadnought Star of Coruscant, in the graveyard of ships. I landed it there for safekeeping after I crushed its foolish captain. There, you will find me.”
“Of course! That’s why we couldn’t find it,” Drellik said. “It would be nearly impossible to find a ship if it were hidden inside another ship! I… know the place, but it’s swarming with pirates – White Maw, I think they’re called. Not exactly connoisseurs of the historical.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Murlesson said. “They won’t even notice me.” Time to sneak.
“I wait expectantly for your arrival,” Horak-Mul said, and the droid crumbled to the ground in pieces, the damage from Revel’s prior blaster bolt popping pieces out of the chassis in a spray of debris.
“Unbelievable!” Drellik exclaimed. He certainly liked that word. “One minute it’s walking around good as new, and the next… I wonder if he’d be offended if I keep it. Oh, there’s better equipment for analysis at the base near here. It’s on the way to the ship graveyard, as fortune would have it.”
“Then let’s head there at once,” Murlesson said. “We need to anyway, it’s starting to get dark.”
He went into the ship graveyard alone. Both Khem and Ashara were upset about that, for different reasons, but he was firm. Khem might have been able to sneak as well as him, but he wanted to do this alone.
“Be careful,” Ashara told him anxiously, before he left, and he wondered at how his hearts skipped a beat at that.
“Yes,” he said flatly. “I’ll be fine.”
She grimaced, clearly not believing him, but she let him go.
The trip to the Star of Coruscant through the ship graveyard was a long one, riding his speeder bike past vast behemoths of ships crashed untold years and centuries ago. They towered over the landscape – no, they were the landscape, the sun weakly shimmering over the backs of their hulls, metallic outcroppings casting cold blue shadows across the faint trails he rode along. The Force was quiet here. There was little life besides the pirates, and they were weak, feeble minds that made hardly an impression on the metaphysical environment.
He could only get half-way by speeder before the White Maw’s defences became too thick for him to safely evade. He hid his speeder behind a small piece of wreckage and set out on foot.
Everything was so still and quiet. It felt like he was the only person on the planet, the old snow underfoot barely crunching under his boots. The wind made strange music as it whistled between the bones of ruined vessels and the icicles that had formed on them over the years.
It took him another few hours to make it to the superdreadnought, walking paths where he sensed the fewest people before him, keeping his aim on the dark presence that drew him onward.
It was so quiet without the roar of his speeder. He should have brought Khem after all. He found his thoughts unwelcomely introspective, found himself doubting his past decisions. Was there any way he could have avoided this path in life entirely?
That was easy. If he’d picked another week to escape Netokos, Lachris wouldn’t have been there. He would have disappeared into Commenor’s underbelly and… and he would never have grown as he had. He wouldn’t have had the chance to study history as enthusiastically as he wanted. He wouldn’t have met Ashara.
She was beautiful. And strong. He wanted to talk to her more after this, if he made it back. Even if they ended up fighting.
Once he made it to the Star of Coruscant, he stopped briefly to rest – not too long, in case of freezing – and slipping within, easily evading the White Maw patrols. The dark presence beckoned from the depths, and he dropped between floors through panels shaken loose or ripped apart by pirates looking for raw materials.
He came to the belly of the beast, found himself in a hangar that was still open to the world on the far side, though the light filtering in was growing dim. And here, there was life. A number of armed and armoured aliens, reminding him of Xalek from Korriban, all with a darkness around them that suggested Horak-Mul was controlling them.
They couldn’t be left around to get in his way, and he began to hunt. They were some kind of warriors, he could tell, but what did strength matter against an assassin? He didn’t use his lightsaber. The light and sound would give him away. A vibroblade would more than work for him. He was like a shadow, creeping through the dark corners of the hangar, behind debris and crates, targeting the warriors he could isolate easily, stabbing them in the back or cutting their throat before they could make noise and alarm the whole lot of them.
They never saw him as he carried out his grim work and slaughtered the lot of them, one by one, hiding their bodies away from the light. His hands were covered in blood when he was done, sticky and cooling quickly. He threw away his gloves rather than try to clean them. It was quickest, though his bare hands were half-numb already.
The Starrunner was a small freighter that had crashed side-long into the hangar, leaving deep gouges on the floor. Its ramp was down, though with half its landing gear broken the ship listed to one side, leaving the end of the ramp hovering in midair. He jumped up lightly to the ramp and into the ship, and stopped short.
The ghost waited for him in the main hold, its arms spread wide in welcome. Horak-Mul was apparently of the Sith species, judging from his facial protrusions, even if the colour of his skin had been lost. “My saviour and avenger! My heart is light – almost as if I were alive again. You have a gift. The way you cut through my guardians was most satisfactory. I am sorry, but I’ve always been vain, and surrender is not a pill I swallow easily.”
“Nor I,” Murlesson rejoined, his voice hoarse from not being used all day. “Now let’s get on with it. I’ve waited long enough.”
“As you say,” Horak-Mul said. “Before you perform the ritual, promise me that you will release me when your enemies are defeated and you no longer need my power. Seal the promise with your blood, and I will submit willingly to your control.”
“Why?” Murlesson demanded, suddenly ten times more suspicious than he had been. Forcedammit, dead Sith were trickier than living ones.
“I just told you. I do not surrender easily. I will allow you to wield me for a time, amuse myself through your actions, and then return to my rest.”
Sith never achieved fulfillment, he remembered saying to Ashara. Sith are selfish, he remembered her saying to him. He didn’t believe a word Horak-Mul was saying, but he was selfish himself. “I think not.”
“I won’t go easily!” Horak-Mul roared, but Murlesson was already initiating the ritual, forming the mnemonics that would take that mass of sapient Force-power into his own. Horak-Mul screamed, lashing out, but it was too late, he had already begun to capture him, overpower him with his own obscene strength. The ghost evaporated like it had been blown away in a strong wind, its last shriek echoing in the Force.
He staggered and fell to his knees yet again, collapsing to the floor with a tormented moan, though fresh power surged through him. Oh gods, his head was pounding, agony lancing through his skull. It had never been bad like this before. Sure, when he bound the Yavin 4 ghost, it had hurt, but it had hurt his whole body since he hadn’t prepared his essence to take it on properly. He thought he had this time, and he was certainly stronger than the ghost, but…
The room swam before his eyes; his head was splitting. No! He was stronger than this. He wouldn’t let a stupid ghost fight him. He gritted his teeth and focused, clamping down on his new stolen power. It thrashed wildly before he managed to submerge it in his own dark strength.
His aura must have been terrifying, he mused as he rose to his feet. Barely under his control, it seethed, bulging monstrously to bleed into the space around him. It was very difficult for him now to hide it as he used to. And what good was a Force assassin who could be sensed coming?
He’d work on it.
He stayed on the Starrunner for the night, no matter how uncomfortable or creepy it was to be near the sarcophagus that, even if he’d absorbed the spirit of its inhabitant, still had a body in it presumably, near the half-preserved bodies of the crew scattered throughout the ship. But he wasn’t returning to Frostwake Outpost during the night. That was suicide, temperatures falling to negative seventies, even negative eighties. At least he was sheltered here.
His dreams crawled uneasily through his skull, but he didn’t remember them when he woke, which was nice. But he still ached, and his perpetual migraine hurt worse than ever. Maybe this wasn’t good for his health.
He could worry about his health when Thanaton’s was non-existent.
Returning from the Star of Coruscant was as desolate as travelling to it, but instead of isolation, death, and torture at his journey’s end, he arrived to find his team waiting for him, all glad to see him back, ready to smother him with blankets and hot food and drink. Ashara hugged him through the blankets. “I’m glad you made it. And you were successful, huh? Sure feels like it.”
He concentrated on filling his face, mostly. “Yes.”
“Good. Even Khem was worried. You could have called to let us know you were all right.”
“And let the pirates know I was around? I told you before.”
“So, next stop, Dromund Kaas?” Revel asked.
Murlesson glared at him without any vehemence in it. “Let a man have some food and rest before planning our next step.” Revel chuckled.
They made it back to Dorn Base two days later. Thanaton’s apprentices had reached the planet, but once he ascertained their location, he took Khem and went to hunt them.
They were on the road heading to Leth Outpost, so he sent Khem out to draw them out. It wasn’t long before they came into view, and screeched to a halt, surrounding Khem. “Look, it’s the monster! Its master can’t be far away.”
<Little Sith, little Sith,> Khem growled hungrily, and Murlesson grinned to himself that he wasn’t the only one Khem called that. <You will sate me well. Come, meet the devourer of the rebels at Yn and Chabosh…>
“Shut up, gargle-face,” said one of them, jumping from her speeder and swinging with her lightsaber. Khem parried, and then they were all three on him at once.
They were good, he could tell; Khem was hard-pressed from the beginning, completely on the defensive, giving up ground like it was going out of style. But Murlesson was in position, behind them, unsensed. He was getting stronger at controlling his burgeoning power, to minimize its impact, to make himself as unnoticeable as before.
The one in the middle got a lightsaber through his back and fell with a rasp. The other two jumped, spinning to face him. “How did he get there!?” “Quick, kill him!!”
Khem cleaved one of them, and together they made short work of the other. Skill wasn’t very useful when they didn’t notice their opponent coming.
He was almost disappointed. Why had he been so afraid of them? Thanaton was losing his edge. He wouldn’t fear him any longer.
Before leaving the planet, Murlesson stopped in with Colonel Yudrass while the others went on ahead. “Colonel. How goes your command?”
“No issues,” Yudrass said. “I must thank you again for the honour you bestowed upon me. Commander Tritan has been unswervingly loyal during this transition, and the Republic has grown quiet after their recent attempts to assault Dorn Base were proven ill-advised.”
“Glad to hear it,” Murlesson said. And hesitated. “Should you ever wish to transfer into my service, I would be happy to have you.” He could do with another competent strategist, but Yudrass was a complicated being, and his feelings were not clear.
Yudrass smiled slightly. “It would be an honour; however, I must go where the Empire needs me.” A proper patriot, then.
“A man like you, Yudrass, will be needed everywhere you go. It is the curse of your qualifications. But think of me, should you ever wish to leave this icy prison.”
“I will, my lord. Thank you again.”
And on the space station where the Viper was docked, Murlesson heard a hail and stopped to look. It was Drellik, hurrying up with his kit bag, trotting up to him thoroughly out of breath. “My lord! I hoped to catch you before you left! I, um, I have resigned from the service. The military just isn’t the best use of my talents. I feel I could serve the Empire better… by, um, by helping you. If you’ll let me.”
Murlesson felt his face slacken in pleased surprise. “I would be delighted. It would be an honour to have you on board.”
“I promise, I won’t let you- wait, you will?” Drellik apparently had assumed he’d have to argue a lot harder. Had he forgotten how enthusiastic Murlesson had been at their first meeting? “Great. Great! Thank you! You won’t regret it. I have military training – rifles, small arms, grenades – and I’m the best in the galaxy at finding rare artefacts, if I may say so. I promise, I won’t let you down.”
“Welcome aboard,” Murlesson said, and found himself smiling at him. “There’s not a lot of room left on my ship, but it doesn’t look like you brought much…?”
“Just my kit bag,” Drellik said, hoisting it onto his frail shoulders and marching alongside Murlesson’s longer stride to the Viper’s docking port. “I brought a lot of my personal tools, but the larger pieces belonged to the Reclamation Service, of course.”
“I can get you more,” Murlesson said absently. “Just let me know what you want. Anything you need, I will obtain for you.”
Drellik’s eyes became round. “Anything?”
“Anything,” Murlesson considered. “At least ask me before you assume it’s too big or expensive. I have my resources.”
“That’s very generous, my lord!”
“History is my passion, and not just because it’s kept me alive since before I became Sith,” Murlesson said. “If you can help me with it, you can have whatever you need.”
“Thank you, my lord! I will do my best to live up to your expectations!”
Ashara met them in the airlock. “Oh, hi! You’re coming too? That’s good. I know Murlesson’s really happy about it.”
He stared at her flatly.
“Oh, don’t give me that look! Anyone can tell even if they’re more Force-deaf than an Ugnaught! Anyway, I can show you around, if you like.”
“That’s very good of you, Miss Ashara.”
“Since we’re gonna be travel companions, you should just call me Ashara. So over here’s the dorms, if you want to drop off your stuff…”
A while later, after he’d caught up on messages from Rylee and Destris, he sought out Ashara and found her in the engine room again. “How are you?” he asked, a bit lamely. He knew how she was, he could feel her spirit. But what was he supposed to say?
“I’m pretty good,” she said. “I’m still sorry I was so harsh about the Empire earlier. There’s just a lot I’m still trying to process.”
“I imagine it’s overwhelming to suddenly jump in with the other side,” Murlesson said, leaning on the guard rail. “You were essentially kidnapped.” He made a self-deprecating smirk. “You know, if we ever run into any Jedi who don’t want to kill me on sight, you could spin it that way. I murdered your masters and stole you away.”
She made a disgruntled face at him. “First of all, I can’t lie; second of all, why would you want to steal me? The logic doesn’t hold up.”
“You’re wise,” he blurted out, then hesitated. “You think differently from me, and that makes you valuable. If everyone thought the same, imagine how easy it would be to exploit vulnerabilities.”
“W-well,” she stammered, apparently as startled as he was at his words. “I’m honoured that you consider me wise. My masters didn’t.”
He hesitated. “Would you clarify something for me?” This is a mistake this is a mistake. “Are… all relationships forbidden to Jedi?”
“’All relationships’?” she quoted him with a raised eyebrow. “We have lots of relationships. We have siblings, families, friends, masters.”
He just looked at her. Her wilfully dense shield wouldn’t last long.
And it didn’t, but she blushed brightly and turned away quickly, closing her Force-sense off from him. “Look, I need… I mean, I haven’t done today’s meditation. I need to train.”
“O-okay.” He stepped backwards, quickly, trying not to look like he was fleeing the room. Even though he definitely was.
Frak, he was stupid. He liked her, true, he wanted to spend time with her, get close to her… but he didn’t believe in romantic relationships. Revel didn’t believe in romantic relationships. The Sith didn’t believe in romantic relationships. It was just his stupid hormonal body… He had to fight it. She could be a horrible liability if he got any more attached to her.
On the other hand, he could turn this to his advantage… He’d been curious if he could play a really out-of-character role, and a romantic hero would really be as far from his regular personality as he could get. Yes, if he could get her to go out with him, he could practice in case he ever needed to do it in a serious situation.
He laughed bitterly at himself. Yes, there was no possible way this could go wrong. Haaaa.
She came into his cabin the next day, holding her hands behind her back diffidently. “Hey, um, I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to end the conversation so abruptly.”
“It’s fine,” he said, getting up from his workstation to talk to her directly. “It wasn’t a very good conversation anyway.” And getting away had given him time to think.
“It’s not that… It’s just… Jedi aren’t supposed to become romantically attached.”
He looked up, quirked an eyebrow at her. “So… you do like me…?”
She blushed and looked away. “Jedi are supposed to be wary of attachments, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you.”
“You probably shouldn’t be,” he said, uncertain if he were fishing for compliments or not. “My life is dangerous. I’m dangerous.”
She smiled a little. “I don’t think you’re dangerous. I mean, not to me. I think you’re sweet.”
He coughed a little, looking at the deck, vastly embarrassed. “Er. Well. Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?”
“Um, sure,” she said, looking almost as awkward as he felt. “I… um, I’ve never actually been on a date before. It’ll be fun, right?”
“R-right,” he said. “When we get to Commenor, then. We’ll dress like normal people and act like normal people. Just for once.” Get her in an arrangement where she’d accept him acting wildly different from how she normally knew him.
“We’ll need to get normal clothes then, first,” she said, and he stiffened. He hadn’t thought it completely through. He didn’t know style, and certainly not what people were wearing these days. “Do we have time for shopping, like, the afternoon before?”
“Er… would you help me find something, then?” he asked, trying not to let his alarm leak into his voice.
She smiled. “I think Andronikos would be better to ask about that. I’m going to have my hands full picking an outfit for me! Talk to Andronikos, talk to Talos, see what they have to say?”
“Er… right. I will. Um. I’ll talk to you later, then.”
“Looking forward to it,” she echoed hesitantly. It was still several days to Commenor. Oh boy, this wasn’t going to be awkward at all.