Servos whined as mechanical fingers locked into place, turning the claw-tipped hand into a spearpoint before it plunged into the flesh beneath.
The Tu'kata's mouth opened involuntarily, but it was unable to make a single sound as the Zabrak's durasteel hand severed its spinal cord at the base of the skull.
Terrak had already extracted his hand and was moving before the body hit the ground as another Tu'kata lunged at him, teeth bared. Spinning counterclockwise to build momentum, he lashed out with a hook kick to its side.
A series of cracks sounded out as ribs shattered under his heel and the creature lurched off its intended course to crash into its felled packmate with a groan.
Enraged, the last member of the pack leaped towards him. The Zabrak stepped into its jump, bringing his mechanical hand up. Corded muscles bulged as his entire body tensed at once, bracing himself against the charge.
Another sickening crack rang out as the metal limb crashed into the monster's sternum, shattering it and pulping the organ beneath.
Despite being outweighed by nearly two hundred pounds, the acolyte did not move an inch. The force of the impact pushed the hand further into its chest, pushing aside muscle and bone as it pierced its skin.
The Tu'kata flailed and snapped its teeth at him weakly, now impaled on his mechanical fist. With only a little effort, he dislodged the creature and tossed it to the side. He could sense the moment the last of its life left its body.
At his feet, the Tu'kata with broken ribs had started to get up. Terrak's yellow eyes glanced down at it, the movement catching his attention. But he made no move to stop it and took several steps back to give it room.
Its legs shook as it stood. It was obviously in pain, the ribs aching with every breath that it took and every movement it made. But still, it bared its fangs defiantly.
'Such a pitiful creature,' he thought to himself, 'So consumed by rage that it does not know when to cease.'
Roaring, it lunged towards him again. Terrak stepped to the side, his hands reaching out to seize the underside of its jaw and the top of its head.
In one swift movement, he threw himself into a roll over its back, his grip on its head causing its neck to snap as it was twisted nearly two hundred seventy degrees.
Releasing it and regaining his footing, the Zabrak watched the monster's own momentum carry it forward before it tumbled into a broken heap, head lolled to one side.
Glancing around to ensure that was the last, Terrak flexed the fingers of his prosthetic limb, using the Force to remove the blood and viscera. Though the skeletal limb was simplistic compared to more complicated prosthetics, there was still a risk of its joints getting gummed up.
After the first time that had happened, he had devoted weeks to acquiring the precision necessary for the trick. It was easier and less time consuming than cleaning it by hand.
The primitive prosthetic had very little in the way of feeling, meaning there was equally little to distract from the sense of loss he still felt from the absence of his flesh and blood limb.
That something alive should still be there in its place. It was an unnerving feeling, and while his time with the Followers of Palawa had helped, it was something that he had yet to completely come to terms with.
Nevertheless, he did not regret the actions that had led to its loss in the slightest. An arm for Ianna's life was a worthy price, one that he would gladly pay again if needed.
The Jedi would have called it the Trial of the Flesh. A trial of sacrifice and endurance, it was a test to see if a potential Knight was willing to endure horrific injury or loss on behalf of others, though it was not always a physical loss they suffered.
Information on the Jedi had been scarce in the Empire, limited to scary stories told to children in the night. But at the academy, they were not so restricted.
There was a great deal of information in the Archives about his Masters' ancient enemies. Many Jedi had fallen from the Order and joined the Sith, their memories of their time as servants of the Republic had been added to the histories on the shelves.
Terrak had never wanted to be a Sith, no matter what he said to his sister. After seeing the cruelty of his former owner first-hand, he wanted to be nothing like them. But there was little else he could be so long as he and Ianna remained bound in the chains of Korriban.
But still, he dreamed of what it would have been like had he and his sister been born closer to the Core Worlds.
He looked to the corpses around him, pity filling his gut. From his studies, he knew that Tu'kata were at least semi-sentient. He had not wanted to kill them, but they had given him no choice.
With Korriban flowing through them, they were ravenous beasts that preyed upon anything that wasn't of their pack. He lacked the knowledge to affect their minds to dissuade them, leaving him with few other options.
It was a small pack, numbering only nine. Their blind rage had been sickening to behold and it was all he could do to dispose of them as quickly and painlessly as possible. In death, they would be free from their pain and their rage, to rest without torment.
"There is no Emotion. There is Peace." He didn't understand everything about the Jedi Code, but that part was understandable enough.
The dark power of Korriban itself seemed to recoil at the words he said to the empty air, as though struck by an unseen hand.
A small smirk formed on Terrak's face at that thought. It was petty, but he had no love for this desert planet that had brought nothing but horrors to his life.
His eyes drifted to the cave the Tu'kata had emerged from.
Like many of the identical caves that dotted the valley, it was the entrance to the tomb of a Sith Lord powerful enough to warrant a burial in the Sith's holy land.
Switching on a glow rod, Terrak's footsteps echoed as he entered the cave. He paused, expecting to hear another set of footsteps behind him.
'Alone,' He reminded himself as he started walking again, 'I'm here alone.'
Iren was doing his best to keep them apart now. Separate missions. Excuses for them to be at different places in the academy. It wasn't helping his nerves, nor Ianna's anxiety.
Thankfully, the Overseer hadn't tried to sever the bond. Yet, anyways. Having possessed it from birth, neither of them wanted to find out what that would do to them.
As he thought about it, he sent a feeling of warmth along it, though it was more to reassure himself that it was still there. His twin, far away in the Valley of Golg, reciprocated after a moment.
She hadn't been allowed to tell him what she was supposed to do there, and vice versa. But even with the distance between them, they could still communicate as easily as if they were side by side.
Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the task at hand. This tomb was no great mausoleum like that of Ajunta Pall or Marka Ragnos. Its walls were crudely carved and unshaped. It was little more than a hole in the ground, dug in haste.
Even the oppressing dark power that characterized such burial sites was absent.
There were no guards or defenses in place, no murals painted on the walls to tell the story of the Lord within. Its owner had been great once…but the events surrounding their death had been greater still, leaving them to be cast aside.
They had been buried with neither wealth nor possessions, their apprentice, a son in all but name, taking all they had and leaving them a pauper in death.
In the end, only a simple durasteel door, crudely installed, separated Terrak from the sarcophagus chamber. To his surprise, it opened without a sound, as though it had been oiled recently.
But the occupant of the sarcophagus was not alone.
"It seems the Sith have found me once again, though I thank you for not making too much noise," The voice that greeted him was halting, a wheezing mechanical sound. A blaster rifle was held at the ready in its owner's hands.
Terrak examined the other being. Red lights peered at him from the depths of the shadowy hood of the cloak that covered most of its body. After a moment, he realized that they were the glow of photoreceptors.
"A droid?" He asked softly, noting its comment on noise, "You do not appear like any other droids I have encountered in the other tombs."
Once he made that realization, he started seeing the other features. Too-thin legs and fingers, barely visible. A brown-painted durasteel shell, rust eating away at its edges.
Though it had the skeletal frame common to many combat droids, it lacked the design themes of the other ancient droids. Sith tomb droids usually had a dome-shaped head, like an astromech droid. This one was shorter and possessed a more humanoid face.
"I have been on Korriban for a long time. But not that long," It answered. The Zabrak almost swore there was a hint of a wry tone in its voice, "Judging from your tone, you did not expect to find me here. Am I correct in this assumption?"
Terrak nodded, "I am only here to find an object in this tomb," He pointed at the sarcophagus, "It's likely in there."
To his surprise, the droids nodded back and stepped out of the way before gesturing to the coffin. Like the cave itself, it was crudely carved and unadorned.
Approaching cautiously, Terrak carefully pushed the lid off, though he winced at the loud grinding sound and crash that filled the room as the lid hit the floor. He glanced at the droid.
It flinched in an almost organic manner until the racket faded, "Loud sounds were once…debilitating to me. Now they are merely uncomfortable. Please, do not mind me."
Turning his attention to the sarcophagus, he wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting. There was no body, save for the rotting head of a Kissai, mummified by the arid air of Korriban. But beside it was a small crystal pyramid, softly glowing red in the darkness.
'Must be what I'm looking for,' Terrak thought to himself as he picked it up. He looked around the room, 'There's nothing else here.'
It was warm to the touch, and in the cold cave, he almost gave into the urge to bask in the feeling. Instead, he shook it off and placed the artifact in his bag.
This had been too easy. He doubted that this was his third trial. It was likely just another fetch job for some Lord that wouldn't look twice at them.
As he turned to leave, the Zabrak's eyes fell on the strange droid once again. It hadn't moved since it had gotten out of the way, though he knew its photoreceptors had been watching him the whole time.
"Do you have a name? Or a designation?" Terrak asked curiously.
The droid didn't respond for a moment, as though it was debating whether to answer. Eventually, it did, "Six. It is the only name I have ever known. The only one I will ever know."
His thoughts churned as he thought about this strange machine. He was certain that someone at the academy would be interested in its presence, perhaps enough to reward him for it.
A very small frown tugged at his lips as he discarded that thought.
If Terrak had been tasked with finding the droid, he would have been told to do so. He had no love for the Sith, so he had little desire to do more than was requested of him.
"Well Six, I don't know if anyone will come back here now that this is gone," He remarked, patting the bag with the pyramid in it, "but I won't tell anyone that I found you."
The droid paused again. While it couldn't be "tense" since it didn't have muscles, it seemed that some of the rigidity in its shoulders left.
"Thank you," It murmured, its electronic voice carrying in the small room.
Without anymore words, Terrak left the way he came, but now he had a question on his mind.
Aside from his family, when had anyone actually thanked him for doing something?
But above all, he couldn't help but enjoy the feelings that it evoked. Perhaps if he had been born closer to the Core Worlds, he and his sister might have felt like this more often.
Stepping out into the sun once more, he left the tomb of Lord Simus behind him.
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The first book has been completed on Patreon, you can look it up in the collection alongside the second book. You can visit Patreon if you want to read in Advance.
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