The light of Korriban's sun faded from sight as I ventured deeper into the tomb, blade and blaster in hand. Shadows cast from lit braziers and torches danced on the walls, their shapes flailing as my passage briefly stirred the flames.
My footsteps echoed in the silence and a chill went down my spine despite the heat.
The dust on the stone floor below me was disturbed, indicating frequent foot traffic. Whether it was man or monster, I couldn't tell. Despite this and the guard outside, I had yet to meet anything. Everything was quiet. No words, no sounds of breathing or movement…nothing.
My path twisted and turned, but it didn't diverge into other rooms. After the first four turns, the corridor had started slanting down, so that meant I probably wasn't above Korriban's equivalent to sea level anymore. I'm not sure how far I walked, but it felt like hours before I came to a split in the tunnel.
Three paths were in front of me, with nothing to distinguish them from each other. I didn't dare try to open up my Force senses. Not in this place.
In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, I had felt nothing but the background noise of Korriban. It was an empty grave, its occupant having long since departed.
Here, it was much different. I was practically suffocating on the Force in this place. Standing here, it felt like a great weight had been forced on my shoulders, threatening to crush me if I gave any ground.
But despite all this, going back was not an option. I had to push through.
Finally, I chose a path and started walking forward, but each step felt like my feet were made of lead. I couldn't help but wonder if this was what the men and women outside had felt before succumbing. Or had their minds already been broken before they could realize what was going on?
Suddenly, the world starting spinning. I stumbled as I felt something slam into my mind, trying to break through…and succeeding. A hole was punched through the mental dam and something poured in. My weapons clattered to the floor from nerveless fingers and my body quickly followed.
As one, the torches and braziers around me went out, engulfing me in darkness.
Pain overwhelmed everything as I desperately pushed back with anything I could throw at it to seal the breach. To push whatever it was out.
"There…is…no purpose," I muttered through clenched teeth, "There…is only…WILL!"
I was like an ant before a giant. Sweat started pouring off me as the exertion started to affect me physically. Every muscle was strained as I struck at it over and over, again and again. But I pushed it back, little by little. Finally, I geared up for one last, large push.
For a brief moment, I thought I had done it as the pressure receded completely in an instant. I tried to catch my breath, exhausted from the titanic effort it had taken. My panting echoed in the silent tunnel.
Then, the darkness took me in truth.
...
My head throbbed as I returned to consciousness. Or was I? My head was fuzzy and I couldn't see anything. I tried rubbing my eyes to get rid of either the darkness or the disorientation. Neither dissipated.
I felt around with my fingers to try to get a grasp of my surroundings, only to find the familiar sensation of cool stone beneath me. I rubbed my fingers together and found dust sticking to them.
The tunnel I had been in had been heavily traversed, so there hadn't been much dust. That meant I'd been moved. I tried to feel around for my weapons, but I failed to locate either of them. Either they'd been taken from me or they had been left behind when I was moved. My pack, which had my datapad and glowrods inside, was gone as well.
Damn. Still, even though I was unarmed, I wasn't defenseless.
I stood up slowly, both to check for a low ceiling and to see if my legs would support me. Thankfully, the ceiling was tall enough to accommodate my height and I had no trouble standing other than some stiffness in my knees.
I took small, shuffling steps to my left, arm outstretched, until my fingers brushed stone again.
With the wall as a guide, I took small steps forward, testing the path ahead of me with rolling steps. I still couldn't see, but at least I was mobile.
Traversing the dark corridor was slow, but I did make progress. Like the entrance way, it wasn't a straight line. I counted six turns with a few minutes of walking between them: Left, right, right, left, left, left. It was on turn number seven, a right, that I finally saw something.
At the end of what appeared to be a long corridor, a dull red glow stood in stark contrast to the pitch blackness around me. It wasn't the light from a fire, but something else.
I didn't run towards it like an idiot, but I did pick up the pace a little bit. Slowly but surely, I made my way down the corridor before stopping at the opening.
I gaped at what was in front of me.
The small corridor opened up into a cavernous chamber with a ceiling so high I almost couldn't see it. But that wasn't what held my attention, but rather the source of the red glow that illuminated the room.
Growing out of the stone floor were neat, ordered rows of what appeared to be rose bushes whose dark red flowers softly glowed in the gloom, stretching out beyond sight. They were obviously well-cared for.
The bushes were trimmed into squares, with enough space between each for a human to walk through easily. But how was all this here? Plants didn't grow on Korriban. At all.
Cautiously, I approached the nearest one and crouched down. As I got closer, I noticed something…off about it. Careful to avoid the thorns, I reached out and touched one of the roses, only to find it wasn't quite what I was expecting.
"Crystal?" I blinked in surprise.
The bushes, roses, leaves, and stems, were all made of crystals of varying colors. There were no tool marks to show they had been shaped. They were grown this way.
"Magnificent, is it not?" A voice rumbled wistfully from behind me. While it was undoubtedly masculine and powerful, it was also one aged by time, "It should be. I have been cultivating it for quite some time. In fact, it is the work of a lifetime."
I whirled to face the speaker. It definitely wasn't Castor Vol, not unless he had suddenly aged a century. Before me stood a hunched humanoid figure dressed in plain red robes that obscured most of his features and body shape. His pale wrinkled face was mostly concealed by his hood, from which long gray hair spilled out freely.
Were he standing straight, the top of his head would likely clear mine by several inches. As it was, he could look me in the eye evenly, not that I could see his eyes. Gnarled, claw-tipped fingers grasped a storm-gray metal cane, which seemingly supported his aged frame.
"It is," I replied carefully, "Though I will admit it wasn't quite what I was expecting to find here."
"Few ever find exactly what they were expecting," The old man smiled. I think he was trying to make it come across as grandfatherly, but the atmosphere around us made it creepy as hell instead, "I find that to be as true for life as I have found it to be for the Force."
Before I could speak again, he gestured with his cane, "Come, there is a bench in the center of the chamber with a grand view of the garden. We may sit there and speak," As he walked past me, he paused, "Oh, and mind the leaves and petals. Their edges are quite sharp."
As he said that, I noticed a sharp pain on the thumb and index finger of my right hand. Upon inspecting them, I found a pair of matching cuts on each.
I must have slit them when I was startled. Without my medkit, there wasn't much I could do about it. Instead, I jogged to catch up with the old man. Something told me that refusal wasn't an option.
Honestly, I wasn't sure who was keeping pace with who. Despite the cane, he didn't seem hobbled by his age and covered ground rather quickly. Minutes passed in silence as we walked, the only sound echoing into the darkness being his metal cane striking stone with each step.
If I were by myself, I would have gotten lost quickly. The longer we walked, the more I came to realize just how large this chamber was. This place had to have been created from a pre-existing cavern.
At last, we came to the bench he had mentioned. It was a simple thing made of durasteel, though it was placed on top of a raised dais. The old man ascended the stairs and seated himself with a sigh.
I followed up after him, pausing to take in the sight. Like he promised, it was a hell of a view. Out of the darkness, thousands of red lights stood out, dying the entire chamber a blood red. After I seated myself, we stayed silent as we admired the garden.
Finally, I felt I had to break the silence, "Gardening seems an…odd hobby for a Sith Lord. Even if the plants are made of ultra-sharp crystal."
There wasn't really much else that the man could be. Who else would live in a creepy, haunted tomb on the Sith homeworld?
"Truly? Then perhaps you are working with mistaken assumptions," His head turned to me slightly and I could see the edge of a smirk, "Power, true power, can be found in the most inconspicuous of places."
"How so?" I asked as I tried again to mentally connect "Sith" and "gardening."
"Is there not power in cultivating a life? In determining how and where it grows or if it is allowed to grow at all? What it passes on to the next generation, where the process starts anew? To make the children stronger than the parents?" He posed, "It would be simple to use the Force and push their growth along desired paths much more quickly.
But that is the mentality of a younger Sith and this is an exercise in control and patience. An impatient berserker, a wise -and long-lived- king does not make."
With those last words, the connection finally clicked, "This garden…It's a scale model of the Empire."
The smirk bloomed into a full smile that showed a few too many teeth, "Precisely. Like a garden, an empire must occasionally be pruned of the excess, have the weeds pulled up, and the rot excised before it can spread."
That…was scarily appropriate. Great. Now I'll never be able to look at horticulture the same way ever again. If I survived. It took me a few minutes to work up the courage to speak again.
"Is that what you brought me here for? To be excised?" I asked, under the assumption he knew precisely why I was asking.
The old Sith chuckled, "You are right to be wary, but no. I have yet to decide if your particular heresy is a threat to the Sith traditions…or a necessary reform," His smiled faded, "There is a rot infecting my garden, but you are not the source."
In the distance, one of the bushes withered, its glow dying with it. When the light was completely gone, the crystal shattered, sending shards into the adjacent bushes. The ones struck immediately started withering as the first one had before exploding and spreading the blight even further.
The old man stood and walked to the edge of the dais, silently watching the carnage below, his mouth pulled down into a frown.
After a moment, he spoke, "My task to you is thus, heretic: I want you to seek out the heart of this rot. And tear. It. Out."
"You know you're asking a random nobody to do this, right?" I asked.
"Power, just as the Sith, can spring from any root. A bastard, a farmer, a soldier…" The old Sith turned. For the first time, I saw his eyes, glowing an angry yellow-orange.
"…or a former slave. And it is not as random as you think. You are already on the path. I merely ask that you finish what you started. The first of the rot's symptoms lies deeper in this tomb."
Was he referring to Castor Vol?
"A word of advice, before I send you back," the old man stated, "Do not rely on overly complicated plans to deal with your enemies. Sometimes, it is best to resolve an issue with…simpler means, such as decapitating your foe. A pity young Tenebrae never took that lesson to heart."
"Wait, Tene-" I started to ask.
As I blinked, the old man, the garden, and the cavern had disappeared.
Instead, I was now in a much smaller room, surrounded by five tuk'ata corpses and three dozen Sith trooper bodies. I looked at my hands, now holding my blaster and sword once again.
On my right thumb and index finger were a pair of matching cuts, freely bleeding.
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