From the Grave

[Korvo]

From the Grave

The first thing Osiris recognized about the barren world was the heat, the aridity. The air was dry, coarse, even thin at times. The sun bared down its heat, smoldering the sands beneath and scorching the dust, whipped about by the periodic howls of eerie wind that seemed to almost catch disquieted voices on the air. On his own, Osiris had been on worlds with climates not unlike what he'd found here, but none carried the same foreboding sensation. It was as if the planet had another force that weighed down on those that walked its surface... and it did. He'd felt the effects before, but they'd been much more intense, more potent. As much as the Dark Side teemed through every rock and gust of air, there was still... life.

⁝⁝ Do not think Korriban does not know what is not its own. You are the aberration here; allow my presence shroud you. ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Will it really? ⁝⁝, Osiris asked telepathically, partially in genuine curiosity, while in part disparagingly. ⁝⁝ The Dark Side is many things, but I'd imagine your own life's tale would be suffice to show it does not hold loyalties to anything ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It is the way of the Sith to betray. The Dark Side's is to empower. It is the Force in its mastered state, subservient once bent to a sufficiently powerful will. The Dark Side is a servant, it needs only to recognize a master ⁝⁝

Even though his eyes were shut, Osiris could feel the Force as it stirred around like being at the eye of a storm. He'd felt the Dark Side before. He'd fallen before. But this was different, almost refined. A sharp and stifled inhalation followed as Osiris' eyes opened. He wasn't ready for acceptance of the Dark Side, not yet, at least. Perhaps he never would be. But he had what he needed. The Dark Side's presence around him intensified with the Sith spirit's power enveloping him, but the smothering and overbearing weight seemed to lift. He could focus more easily now, and his own presence would appear less occlus and more typical of another Sith, should he come into contact with a local resident.

The windstorm picked up, as what was tantamount to massive dust clouds migrated overhead. For the first time, Osiris was outright grateful for the mask he was wearing, rather than finding it a 'forced novelty'. All the same, it was not long until he could finally perceive disruptions in the wind. Clouds of dust particles clashing and bouncing against the surface of a structure... a massive structure. Long pillars gradually became visible through the evening light of the sun, and the peak of a pyramid was revealed at the center.

⁝⁝ Is this the part where you tell me where we are? After all, this is your world, not mine ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ There have always been many worlds of the Sith. Malachor was mine, not Korriban. But almost all Sith must walk the surface of one of the twin worlds in their training. Here, is Kheled-Zâram ⁝⁝

Osiris' eyes almost glazed momentarily as they shifted for the briefest of moments, and without thinking responded, ⁝⁝ The Temple of Strife ⁝⁝, he said, refocusing on the temple again. ⁝⁝ You've been here before. It... it even looks the same. ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ The temples of the Sith do not easily fall to time. That they still stand is no more remarkable than a star that still burns. ⁝⁝

Past the steps and through the entrance, Osiris entered into a chamber that was almost perfectly dark. Again.

⁝⁝ It's just like Malachor. I could use the Force to produce light, but that's never been my expertise. I don't know how effective it'd be or how long it'd last ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Inefficient and impractical. Work through the shadows, not against them. Traces of light ebb everywhere, use it. Shave away the dark, pierce through the veil ⁝⁝

Closing his eyes again, Osiris allowed his mind and the spirit's to meld again. Their memories were already intertwined, but so too were their experiences. The masked man was already experienced in enhancing his senses with the Force, heightening or augmenting them to suffice his needs, he just needed a new... direction. Opening his eyes slowly, Osiris came to see a much brighter room. Still dark, but now he could see, as if it were a relatively dimly lit chamber, as opposed to a pit of pitch black darkness.


⁝⁝ Fascinating ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Focus ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Well, here we are. Now where? A holocron of some great Sith secrets? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Now, we travel down. Not to a place of secrets, but of knowledge. There are things you need to learn... and so do I ⁝⁝

 

[Korvo]

The chamber Osiris found was but one of many, each with their own series of interconnected corridors. Each with their own secrets. K'lor'slugs, tuk'ata beasts, even a few shayracks stalked the seemingly otherwise barren halls. Osiris had known of some of the creatures before; there were some Sith that made tuk'atas their warhounds and guard dogs. But they were always carnivorous, had to consume something to sustain themselves. But there didn't seem to be anything here for them to feed on, and it didn't appear that they were cannibalizing themselves or turning on each other.

⁝⁝ It is the Dark Side at work in them. It is for them as the air you breathe, the water you drink. They consume it as it consumes them, preserving them alive where nothing else could ⁝⁝

The Force warrior chuckled to himself; no thoughts were hidden from his newfound ally, it seemed. Their minds were merged, one filtering into the other and vice versa. In time, Osiris truly couldn't help but wonder if he would eventually even need to ask questions anymore at all. In time, whatever answers Tâshurhak would have, Osiris himself would be able to intuitively know.

Moments passed as Osiris trekked a long hallway to the back of the temple, deep beneath the surface of the ground. The wonder was shedding away. For reasons he could only assume were a result of a joined memory, he knew where he was going. He knew where he was being led to. On the ground, some partially shattered, others receded to pieces of rubble from sheer age, were large stone tablets. Osiris lightly ran his hands down their surfaces, his fingers bumping down runic carvings etched upon them.

⁝⁝ It is old dialect, even among the Sith. Close you eyes, delve deep. You'll find the— ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Not find... found ⁝⁝, Osiris said, exhaling softly. ⁝⁝ I've already know this. Sith language of the priestly Kissai caste, ninth era hieroglyphics. Fallen out of even in your time. You learned this language on your own, Tâshurhak ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ I did. There was power in the languages of old, the teachings of old. I sought them out for my master ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ And yourself ⁝⁝, he said, glancing to the Sith spectre standing beside him. ⁝⁝ We are of one mind, you've said so yourself. Malachor was to be yours, and arcane knowledge was your right as heir. You kept it secret, even from your master, in order to make sure it stayed secret from any rival... you didn't even trust those who follow you ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Trust is a fool's game. Loyalty must be enforced, lest it be the shroud of a dagger in the shadows, waiting to find your back ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Better to be feared than loved, is that it? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Even the mightiest Sith were never feared by all. Not through their own might. It is not simply one's strength, but the power of influence, the control over others they could exert. It is always the way of Sith to build support, to have others standing with you, rather than standing alone. To be admired is a boon, and it is even greater to be feared. But controlling what neither loves nor fears you is what separates a Dark Jedi from a Lord of the Sith ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ And I suppose destroying what you deem uncontrollable is the alternative? ⁝⁝, he said, continuing to read down the stone tablet fragments, ⁝⁝ But then, you'll probably tell me there's nothing a true Sith cannot control ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ This is it. It's not whole, but the accounts are here, scattered about. The Sith have never had as great a supply of Kyber crystals as the Jedi, nor as ancient of one. These... weapons, Sith sorcery, mechanical weapons, hybridization of both, is this what you spoke of when you showed me Malachor's fall? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It was. Malachor was the last bastion, the final world housing an arcane superweapons of the Sith. During the war of my era, the Jedi Knights had all but destroyed the rest. The knowledge of a thousand generations was lost, our great machines brought to ruin. The Kyber crystals we stole and broke were reclaimed and purged. Indeed, you were the one behind the most recent reclamation ⁝⁝


⁝⁝ The Heart of Ilum. Or, I suppose you would have known it as the Eye of the Sun back then. I saw it in a vision, not long after the Siege of Malachor began, directed the mission to find it and return it to the Jedi. I'd had my suspicions, but these Dark Side superweapons, this is too similar to what happened to Tython. ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Not all weapons are forged of fire and steel. The Jedi were relentless in annihilating Sith sorcery. There were Sith sorcerers whose voices could fell the stars, others that could consume worlds of all life. Nearly all these secrets were lost, but the Sith of this age have uncovered the knowledge, or perhaps recreated it ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It doesn't matter. One way or another, I'll destroy it ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ We'll destroy it. Leave no trace behind. ⁝⁝

Without a word, Osiris reached out telekinetically with his mind. His hands remained motionless as pebbles and larger fragments of scripted stone rose from the ground, and vibrated. A loud hum began to resonate as small clouds of dust puffed forth, and the pieces of stone crumbed into dirt.

⁝⁝ There's something else here. Something you need me to see ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ More than see. The defining moments of a Jedi, a very specific Jedi, are kept here. He stood against the many-faced enemy we now share, and though he lost his life, his victory is one for you to learn from. For us to learn from ⁝⁝

 

[Korvo]

From the time the two minds had joined as one, Osiris had felt as if his life, his past, everything that he once was had suddenly been left behind. It was as if he were in another galaxy altogether. Lost and on a new path, he'd been cautiously, but willingly, allowing the wraith within him to take the lead. After all, they both needed the same thing; knowledge. And they were finding it. The Sith were once again wielding the weapons of old—weapons the Jedi once thought long lost to the gutters of history. And then, Tython happened. Their most sacred world, Illum, used as the staging ground for the barren defilement of the Jedi homeworld of Tython. Few analogies seemed to convey just how grave and vicious the act was, but with his mind merged with the Sith ghost's, he could say that for a Sith, it would be as if the Jedi used a power on Moraband to annihilate Korriban. Sacrilege at its best... or perhaps, its worst.

Now, however, for the first time in weeks, Osiris could feel the call. It wasn't something born of the Dark Sides—in fact, he was astonished he could have been perceptively sensitive to anything with his presence forcibly shrouded with the Dark Side of the Forces—but it was certainly born of the Force. Something was calling him, reaching out to him. Something that he was seeking, or else needed to be seeking. He'd felt such inclinations before, whenever a Vergance in the Force resonated to him, and he allowed it to shape his pathway. Now, he was taking the lead. Now, he knew where to go next.

⁝⁝ There is a great disturbance here. Have you felt it? Like a flare, clashing with the dark. A dampness amidst aridity ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Or a warmth within the cold. It is suffocated, smothered away, but even now, I'm not so forgone that I cannot recognize the Light when I feel it ⁝⁝

A pile of rubble had been scattered about on the floor, but within the refuse, Osiris caught sight of an object—a shape—that was a most unusual find on the throne world of the Sith Empires of old and present. Reaching down, Osiris picked the object up, slowly turning it in musing disappointment, or perhaps impending worry. It was entirely dark, as if the power had been drained or exhausted from it. Instead of perfectly metric integrity and shape, massive cracks had formed, like fissures in the ground, and huge pieces were chinked out, likely from neglect in the tomb-like temple over the course of thousands of years. One could almost call it scrap now, worthless even.

⁝⁝ A Jedi holocron... in a Sith temple? Jedi teachings hold no value to the Sith—if anything, it'd pose a danger to them. How would your people not consider possessing this to be heretical? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Do not the Jedi practice as much, when in possession of Sith holocrons? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ They do, but only when dealing with Sith holocrons they're unable to destroy. It's a last resort, but here, it looked almost as if this was taken back as a trophy ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Do not assume all things are as they seem. The claiming of that holocron was a great victory for the ancient Sith Empire, even down to my own day. At the time it was taken, the knowledge was valued as of the utmost secrecy. And our preservation of it led to the fall of many worlds to the old empire. ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ You didn't know how the holocron worked. You feared destroying it, if something would be cast through the Force, something the Jedi would be able to sense... interpret ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Jedi and Sith holocrons bear many similarities and just as many differences. It was rarer, but not unheard of, for some holocrons of the Jedi to be imprinted with the conscious minds of their constructors. The Sith that slew the Jedi that forged this holocron had performed a ritual, barring the Jedi's ability to become one with the Force. But we could not risk the possibility that some of his essence was within the holocron itself. Consequently, the device was spared ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Only to be destroyed by neglect. Were your fears founded? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Unlikely. The Jedi's mastery of immortality was rare, even among their Masters, and this Jedi was a Knight. It was only the knowledge he'd attained that made him remarkable, not his own merit ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ And yet, the remembrance of him remains. I'd say that deserves recognition. Is there any way to restore power to the holocron? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ No, it is too far decayed. Even if you could revitalize it, I would not sway to hope that the information within survived the extensive damage over the millenniums. Technologically speaking, it's useless now ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ So you had the same idea as well, then? Psychometric clairvoyance? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Precisely. The message within is gone, but we can still perceive the man who originally spoke it. This was nothing less than a most personal item for him ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ I'm skilled in most sensory powers of the Force, but this is a different level. I'm not sure I can peer that far back, even if this were something personal to him ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ With the Force, reality is limited only by your will upon it. Strengthen your mind, fortify it, cleanse it of any distractions. Merge your thoughts with mine, etch the strength you need to suffice. The Force is in all things, it exists in all places... ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Is ubiquitous in all times... Through it, there is no future, no past, nor any present in-between. Through eternity and entropy, there is only... the Force ⁝⁝

In that singular moment, everything around Osiris and Tâshurhak turned to darkness, but it wasn't the darkness the former Jedi had come to know from his experiences on Malachor or on Korriban. It was different. Greater. Grander. This was something beyond the Dark Side, or even the Light Side. This was an act of the Force, like an episodic vision seizing him. Like a hand at the throat, he was utterly taken control of as his mind raced through the history the fragmented holocron endured. A thousand generations of Sith, passing it by, and a hundred more mocking it, dismissing it as a symbol of victory, or perhaps vanity. But a time was coming, before the shadows. Before the tombs and temples and caves. In time, he saw a man. In time, he saw a Jedi. A simply man, Knight only by name. This one was no warrior, he was a learned man. A teacher. A scholar. An eternal student of history, and scientist of the Force. This was his message. This was his hour. This was his failure. This was his tragedy...[/B][/glow]

 

[Shalken]

Bracing against the heavy winds, Shiro pressed through the thick dust clouds before finally slipping into the entrance of the temple. Plunged into pitch darkness, he switched on the night vision on his visor before turning his attention to the debris that was caked onto his dark cloak. The dust clung stubbornly to his garb despite his vigorous attempt to remove it, so he temporarily abandoned his efforts and gazed into the dark hallways ahead.

Though Shiro had spent the vast majority of his free time as a Sith in Korriban's archives, there was something about the sprawling ruins that piqued his curiosity. Having delved into the ancient history of the tombs that lay scattered across Korriban's surface, he found some documents that hinted at the existence of vast treasures and archaic holocrons hidden in their depths. Having cross-referenced these with articles on tomb raids and other ventures, one in particular stood out to him: Kheled-Zâram, the Temple of Strife. As for how it had remained untouched for so long, he could only guess; maybe the lack of vast stores of riches was what kept the raiders away. Perhaps it was for the best that such rabble did not understand how much more valuable knowledge can be.

Making his way deeper into the tomb, he spied a few broken tablets lying around, with ancient runes carved deeply into their surfaces. Parsing the archaic writing, he was able to make out a few key words - a result of his dabbling in ancient, dead languages - but most of it remained lost to his understanding. What intrigued him vastly more, however, was that the dust had been disturbed on one of the fragments - recently, too. Inspecting the floor of the tomb more closely confirmed the Reclusiarch's suspicions. He was not alone.

Venturing even further, at a slower pace this time, Shiro dimly became aware of a strange anomaly on the fringes of his mind. No, not one - two enigmas that lay before him. The first was a mixture of energies, the Light shining like a beacon against the ever-present Dark. He found it mildly interesting, but only slightly so; the distinction between the two sides of the Force was a conflict that the Duke could no longer be bothered to care about. It seemed to be emanating from what looked like an old holocron, broken down and decrepit from the test of time. But the figure that held this object, however, was of vastly more consequence to Shiro. "Just what could you be..."

Keeping a safe distance away and remaining as quiet as he possibly could, Shiro looked on at the person that stood before him, confused by what he saw and sensed. Though he could only see a lone man a few meters away, he could sense the presence of two - one light, and one dark. Before he could inspect this metaphysical oddity further, the Duke realized that he was openly revealing his presence, and quickly shrouded himself. Though perhaps Shiro would not be the first to get his hands on the Temple's secrets, what he had discovered instead was tremendously more fascinating.

And so the Reclusiarch waited, watching the man with intense scrutiny.

 

[Korvo]

Theme​

Everything was... black. Dark. He could not see, couldn't hear, but he could... feel. Desperation. Loneliness. Fear. No... not fear...

⁝⁝ Dread ⁝⁝, came the all too familiar voice. In seconds, a faint dark reddish mist took shape before Osiris' eyes, forming the fallen Stih's image. ⁝⁝ What we see now is but the the final moment of Naelos Ziah's life, as it extinguished ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ We both know there's more at work here than only that. All life is connected to the Force, Force-sensitive or not. When that material life through the Living Force ends, the incorporeal energies that we are become one in the Cosmic Force. There is no true... end. Not the way you're suggesting ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Do not be so quick to judge that which you do not fully understand. Dogmatism becomes a Jedi, and that is not what you are. Not anymore ⁝⁝

The emptiness was cold, like a lifeless void, but it was not entirely empty. There were traces here, like a presence that he could just scarcely notice, a sound he could barely hear. No matter how he expanded his mind, his consciousness, it was something always just out of reach, unattainable. It was maddeningly frustrating, the feeling of coming so close, but to never touch. To never... realize.

⁝⁝ What is this place? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It is... a void. A maw, between Chaos and the Netherworld. I'd told you before, this Jedi did not die a simple death. He was cursed through Sith Sorcery in a way few Jedi or Sith have ever experienced ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ What happened to him? ⁝⁝, Osiris asked, still gazing round about at the infinite blackness around him.

It was like being in space, but without the tranquil assurance of the stars. Such... voids, existed in space; large vacant pockets of unlit deep space. Space was always big and empty feeling, but without the stars, it had a profound effect of most sapient beings' psychology. It drove feelings of isolation, terror, even hysteria in some. A few even fell into bouts of madness, as if they'd experienced staring into the veils of hyperspace for too long. But here, it was just on another level entirely. It was... unnatural.

⁝⁝ The ancient Sith feared what Ziah knew. To preserve the secrecy of their plans, they conducted a death ritual to slay the Jedi, corrupting his spirit and barring him from becoming one with the Force. Some Sith utilized this power to feed on the strength of Force-sensitives after slaying them ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Is that what happened to him? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ He'd long faded into relative obscurity by my time, even if victory over him had not. It's impossible for either of us to know what happened to him in the end. But either way, this place was either his prison... or his tomb ⁝⁝

The longer Osiris lingered, the more of the intensity he felt. The despair. The regret. The grief. The torment and the pain...

⁝⁝ Enough. All this tells us is that he was either in possession or proximity of the holocron till the end. I need to know what happened before. I need to know what he knew ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Time is a tapestry when gazed through the Force. All you must do, is weave it ⁝⁝

At the waving motion of his hand, Tâshurhak channeled the darkness away as the scene changed in an instant. The buzzing of insects hummed about, and the dripping of water off the tips of leaves, trickling to the ground, resounded a deceptively pleasant metronome. This was a jungle, or perhaps a thick forest, Osiris couldn't quite tell from just what he was seeing around him.

⁝⁝ The Force is strong here, but there's something... strange about it. Warped... distorted, even... what world is this? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It is a world from long ago. You would not know it, and it does not matter ⁝⁝

Scoffing lightly, Osiris glanced down below, slightly taken aback by what he hadn't noticed till then. Stepping back, mist and webs had hidden what he could then see clearly. Corpses. Everywhere. Skeletal remains from beings of innumerable species. Kneeling down, Osiris ran his hand over the foliage growth that had begun to overtake a particular body. It was armored, like a soldier, or perhaps a mercenary, but it was unlike any kind he'd seen before.

As a Jedi, Osiris had studied Order's history, as well as that of the Sith's. He was aware of the organizations that had sided with them in times past, but the markings and crests on this warrior's armor was something foreign, unknown. It had so utterly captivated him that he hadn't even noticed the state of his own hand.

Leather strips covered his hand and wrists, emulating gloves. His clothes were sleeveless, tattered and shredded, with various stains of blood and filth.

⁝⁝ Tâshurhak!! ⁝⁝, he hissed out, glaring at the indifferent ghost. ⁝⁝ What have you done to me—why have I appeared as this?! ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Your form is the image reflecting the man you are. I have no more power of it than I do over you. Perhaps you have appeared as you were during your 'difficult time' in your youth because you are meant to. Perhaps it is a symbolic motion from the Force, one to help us better understand what you are meant to see... or perhaps... you simply do not know your own heart as well as you think ⁝⁝

Suddenly then, the ground shook, vibrating like a quake of the plates. Strained breathing, gasping and coughing, followed immediately by an image that had appeared before Osiris and Tâshurhak. A pillar of shadows, casting a shadow that loomed from high above and unleashing a screech that pierced the mind.

⁝⁝ That was him, wasn't it? He was there when this happened... did you know his name? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ There were many that claimed the mantle then, and so too many claimed the victory that came. Who he is, I do not know. But you are correct. This was one of the contenders as Dark Lord and Emperor, his presence in the Force as it was back then ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ But his presence... perhaps it simply represents his influence. His hand in the matter, as opposed to his actions? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ And perhaps... ⁝⁝, the ghost stated, waving his hand to gesture to the image of a figure in the distance, fleeing in supernatural haste from a dark corner of the jungle lands. ⁝⁝ ...we need only wait, and see with our own eyes ⁝⁝

It was there again. The fear... the dread. It was almost palatable, like tangible hooks cleaving to his flesh. He was a young man, but wise beyond his years. His face was bearded, but it did not take away from the inexperience that could be seen from his eyes. He ran, and he ran. He ran so fast, using the Force to drive him to speeds that would be as a blur to the eyes of those not tempered by the Force.

"Isrean!!", he yelled, pressing his hand to the comlink in his ear. "Isrean! This is Naelos—if you can read me, respond now! Please!"

A snapt-hiss!! cracked from behind as the Jedi turned around, seeing several crimson blades ignite from a distance behind him.

"ISREAN?! ISREAN!!"

A sharp throb seized Naelos from the back as he turned about. Using his momentum in the rotating motion, the Jedi scholar tightened the grasp of his own hilt in a two-handed grip, igniting and sideslashing the downward attack from a Sith pursuer. The force of the blow pushed him back several feet, but it had become tantamount to nothing as the Sith rapidly closed the distance, ferociously swinging blow after blow in a sequence of relentless strikes. As second Sith attacked from behind, Naelos used the Force to make a quick flip behind his additional attacker.

As several more Sith arrived, the Jedi eyed his surroundings like a man possessed by instinct, as he indeed was. Tightening his eyes shut before quickly opening them again, the Jedi scarcely had enough time to draw up his blade to protect himself from a torrent of Force Lightning that was hurled in his direction. As he deflected one blade from his side, two other Sith unleashed torrents of their own, blasting Naelos clear off the side of the nearby cliff.

Screaming in pain as he fell into the deep mire below, the team of Sith slowly approached the cliffside, with one in particular taking the lead as she glanced down.

"Find him."

The crashing of the waterfalls quickly woke the Jedi by the side of a boglike shore. Coughing violently, Naelos limped to a stand, glancing to the distance where he could just barely make out the image of the area his Antarian aide had landed him. But he could feel it, sense it... he wasn't going to survive. Not if he wanted the Jedi to be spared atrocities of an unrivaled scale. Looking back to the skies, to see the large distance where he'd fallen, Naelos crawled out from the swamp. The Sith were gone, either assuming he was dead, or would be looking for him. Either way, his time was short. And at that, the Jedi pulled his own personal holocron, and opened it to receive his own recorded message.

"Master Yeven, if you receive this message, then it means things are as I'd feared, and more than likely, I am... dead. I know the warning you gave me, about the vergence I'd sensed in the Force. I disobeyed you. I'm here, on the dark world we both saw. Isrean shuttled me here. This sacrifice was mine to make, he simply followed my orders. The truth of it all is, this is more important than my life, than any one life.

What we saw... It was real, master. Very real... and far worse than we'd imagined. I ask you, I... beg you, bring this message to the council. What I've discovered, may not only mean the death of the Jedi, or the Republic, but of a thousand worlds more. A great shadow has risen in the Force. Through their perversion, the Sith have conjured weapons, some of great Sith rituals, others as arcane hybrids of the twisted Force and technology. Masters, both we and the galaxy face an unprecedented danger. As of now, I can confirm that I've seen the Sith possess weapons powerful enough to consume entire worlds, to end civilizations. The power to end the Jedi.

And they will be coming. Their weapons, their designs, they're completed, but they cannot yet be used to their potential. The Sith have need our most sacred treasures; the Great Kyber Crystals. Whether through brute force, trickery or thievery, they will target our holy worlds. Jedah, Ilum, Ruusan, even Tython, no world will be safe from them if vigilance is cast to idleness. And should they attain them, I believe the Sith will have all that they need to begin their rampage on the galactic scale. If they can be stopped then... only the Force knows. But I do know, they can be stopped now.

Their machines can be destroyed as any others, and the key to their unnatural Force rituals is their unnatural twisting of the Force, their Sith Sorcery. Such powers are often contained within their holocrons, they hold their most ancient knowledge and secrets. These sources must be completely destroyed, and the Sith who have mastered them severed from the Force or called home to it. Dangerous as they are, not just any Sith can wield use these powers. It takes the greatest among even their masters, and therein lies the key to downfall. Their sorcerers will not be on the battlefront, but they must be stopped above all others. Without them, the holocrons of their knowledge and their machines, everything I fear can be brought to naught.

Therefore Masters, I beg you to action. This is the eleventh hour and there can be no more waiting. You must protect the crystals on the sacred worlds and destroy the Sith holocrons. Within this holocron are the coordinates and information of worlds I'd seized from the Sith's archives here. These are worlds far in the Outer Rim, worlds the Jedi had never seen before. Worlds like Athiss, Kesh, and Malachor. Most dangerous of all, the Sith have discovered the wa—"

The scene that Osiris was witnessing had suddenly flashed away, replaced by a series of sights. The corpse of a loyal man, the torture of an innocent Jedi, and the ritual that branded his spirit from oneness with the Force. Like a hurricane wind rushing past his face, a great howling force spun around him as everything appeared to shrink around him, and in an instant, he was back... in the dark room. In the catacombs. In Kheled-Zâram.

Breathing heavily, but quietly, Osiris stayed his place, blinking almost in disbelief. Never had he experienced such an intense Force-induced vision from a psychometric event. It was surreal, almost... frightening.

⁝⁝ Tâshurhak? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ We are not alone. Not anymore. Another approaches ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ I thought you said this area was abandoned ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Most of Korriban's temples are abandoned; it does not mean untread. The experience has unbalanced you, give me control ⁝⁝

Closing his eyes, Osiris' eyes opened behind his mask, but his eyes were something different. A ghostly white, but not as one would expect of a normal Sith. But what was clear was the Dark Side that burst from it, as a presence that completely snuffed out whatever essence of Light that had remained. With a single motion, torrential crackles of azure energies spiraled around his hands as Force Lightning erupted from his right hand and into the damaged holocron, destroying it completely.

⁝⁝ Was that really necessary? We didn't hear the entire story, we don't know other power Naelos discovered the Sith had attained ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It is of no consequence. We have learned what he needed to have learned. All else merely exists as a distraction. Without clarity of purpose, an ideal can be skewered. Do no let what does not matter cloud your objective ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Speaking of objectives, I wonder... what is yours in this situation? ⁝⁝

Turning his head in the direction he last felt the additional presence in the Force, 'Osiris' turned back to glance at the ground, the shards of the already broken holocron.

"It is a rare thing, for one to come to Kheled-Zâram", he said, keeping his eyes on the broken shards. "I wonder what draws a trespasser? Treasures? Or perhaps knowledge?"

 

[Shalken]

Despite his desire to keep himself hidden from the strange being before him, Shiro's curiosity got the best of him, and he reached out once more with his mind right as the temple was engulfed with Force energy. His eyes darted about the room, searching for a sign of what was happening, but not even a stone trembled. And yet, despite the eerie silence, the Reclusiarch could feel the metaphysical upheaval of raw emotions: fear, regret, pain, but the thickest of them all was the dread, the despair. He could not see or hear what was causing the disturbance, but all of the energy seemed to converge on the mysterious figure before him and the holocron he held. Eyeing the device more closely this time, Shiro realized with surprise that it was Jedi in design. His head buzzed with numerous questions. What could possibly have caused a Lightsider to feel these emotions that strongly, and what could have driven them to store them in a holocron? What was a Jedi doing in a temple on Korriban in the first place? Why did the holocron get left behind? He waited with suspense, eager to find the meaning - no, to know the meaning of it all. Above all, he needed to know.

Shiro almost couldn't bear the tension as the minutes slowly crawled by. Several times he debated the idea of trying to pry into the individual's mind and see for himself the events contained within the device, only to restrain himself as he remembered the nature of this man's existence. Who knew what kind of havoc a mere glimpse into such a person's head would wreak upon his own psyche. Much to his relief, he did not have much longer to wait, as the swirling emotional disruption ebbed away. Moments afterward, the figure raised his hand, instantaneously smashing the Duke's spirits as he unleashed a torrent of withering Force Lightning into the device, completely destroying it and whatever knowledge it contained. "Curses!" Shiro mourned, his chances of discovering exactly what the holocron held lost forever.

But then, the man spoke. The Duke noted with intrigue that where there was once two distinct presences in the Force, there was now only one, the Lightsider seeming to have disappeared. "No, not vanished...diminished?" he pondered before responding. Standing from the crouched position he had taken, the Reclusiarch offered his reply. "Indeed...though perhaps I could wonder the same thing, considering neither of us reside here."

Beginning to pace in a slow circle around the man, Shiro made a note of the available exits and also kept himself prepared to defend against an attack. While he himself had no hostile intentions whatsoever, he could not presume that this person held the same mindset. "I suppose I owe you the first answer, considering you asked initially. There are innumerable better places to look for hidden treasure, though perhaps the average tomb raider is too dim to understand that. Yes, too dim to realize that information, when properly applied, is of vastly higher worth than a few shiny trinkets. Though, I'm sure you know that quite well already, considering you've just destroyed the source a potentially very valuable piece of information."

Although Shiro was trying to keep the conversation as lighthearted as possible, he couldn't help saying his last comment with a tinge of annoyance. He did not like people that destroyed information for the sake of destroying it, which meant this person was one of two things: either he was trying to hide whatever he had just learned, or he was just plain stupid. While Shiro didn't want to make assumptions, he guessed the former option was the more likely scenario; or maybe he just liked to live his life believing people were at least somewhat intelligent.

"It's a real shame you had to shatter that holocron. If it was really that important, then I could have easily kept it safe for you; my organization has a long and proud history in the safekeeping of...sensitive materials from the rest of the galaxy."

@Korvo​

 

[Korvo]

⁝⁝ He's wary. It's slight, but it's there. Do you sense it? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ There is nothing to sense. Only the dead surrender their guard on Korriban ⁝⁝

"Could you? Does a Sith trespass on their own world? Or for that matter, hide upon it?"

Although turning his head to face the man who had entered, Osiris' body did not move from where his feet were planted.

⁝⁝ I sense the Dark Side in him, but... no aggression, no hostility. It could mean we've nothing to fear from him ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It means nothing ⁝⁝, the wraith relayed, unconvinced and conscientious to the end.

"You hunt for treasure, then. Misguided to have voyaged here, a dead place with secrets valued as the dust", he said, glancing down at the ashes that began to settle from the vaporized husk of a holocron. "What I destroyed was a trophy, void of what once claimed value. Power depleted, structure fractured; time had begun in silence what I simply finished in a moment."

As the man continued the conversation, the image of Osiris had appeared, unmasked and separate from his physical body, as Tâshurhak ordinarily did. It was their unique connection, how their conscious minds communed on the metaphysical level.

⁝⁝ Wraith, he's not a Sith ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Not anymore, perhaps ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Is that not enough for you? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ There is more to being a Sith than belonging to the order of its namesake. It is a philosophy, a state of being. Whether or not he is, or is not, what he appears to be remains to be seen ⁝⁝

"Organization, is it?", he asked, continuing to keep his eyes trained on the pacing individual. "Your claim is the Dark Side, you search Korriban's wastes, answer the call of the dead... but you are no Sith. Who are you?"

 

[Shalken]

"A fair point, but I sense that you - like myself - are not entirely Sith, though perhaps in a different manner altogether."

The mysterious figure's judgment of the holocron further solidified in the Duke's mind that this man was definitely trying to hide what he had just uncovered. Despite his loss, the artifact was quickly forgotten when a second figure akin to a Force ghost split away from the first. While the masked, robed man was dark and intimidating, this other was much different. Rugged, well-traveled, and rough, yet he exuded an indescribable gentleness and kindness. "A Jedi?" Shiro surmised.

Having walked around to the man's opposite side, he halted his cautious pacing. "My claim is neither to the Dark Side nor the Light. I am the Reclusiarch of the Shadow Conclave. A name likely meaningless to your ears, perhaps."

Shiro did not honestly expect this man to know what the Shadow Conclave even was. While rumours of the emergent organization's renewed presence were beginning to spread, they were far from rebuilding their former reputation. Unbeknownst to the Duke, however, Tâshurhak was an ancient being, certainly old enough to remember the Conclave's vast influence centuries ago before it fell into disrepair.

Shiro chuckled lightly. "Now you, however, are much more interesting than I ever could hope to be. The question is, then, who are you?"

@Korvo​

 

[Korvo]

Names. Important things; this much Tâshurhak knew better than most. But titles? They were nebulous, either full of meaning or lacking any at all. And they were only more difficult to interpret when such a title belonged to an unknown.

⁝⁝ Reclusiarch. There had been no such thing in my period, nor this conclave that he speaks of. Is this something born of your era? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It could have. They Jedi Archives may have held such information, but there are a great many cults that have arisen in the millennia since the fall of the original Sith Empire. Most of them follow the Dark Side, seek out Sith artifacts. But if this one's to be believed— ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ He's not ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ I'm not saying to take him at his word, wraith. He gave us a title instead of a name, that alone is enough to raise suspicion. But if there is any one thing that both the Jedi and the Sith had always agreed on, it was that a side must always be taken... I suppose in my case, even if it was the wrong side. The Light Side or the Dark. He's claimed neither, but he wields the Force ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ All the more reason to assume deception. A man's claim means nothing when the man himself has been claimed. There is no other way to perceive it. A soul divided will only tear itself asunder ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ A curious stance to take given our... unique circumstance, is it not? ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Do not miss the meaning of words in petulant banter. If he is shuns both sides, then he is weaker for it. If he attempts to control the Dark Side together with the Light, then he will destroy himself, if not drive himself mad in a vain pursuit. Either way, we know not yet if he is a danger ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ You're right... perhaps it's time we find out ⁝⁝

The Force swirled in the most subtle of friction within Osiris' body, which itself occurred in the faintest length of a moment.

⁝⁝ You would weigh our purpose against an exchange through which we would gain nothing? This is meaningless. A fool's risk ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ Not a risk. A first step. Knowledge is a warrior's greatest weapon—you've said so yourself. So now? We listen ⁝⁝

A fraction of a second had passed in the entire exchange, following the tail-end of the Reclusiarch's question.

"Not unlike you, I suspect. And at the same time, perhaps very different", Osiris said, looking at the Reclusiarch.

⁝⁝ Keep the Dark Side strong around us, weave it together with our presence ⁝⁝

⁝⁝ It is a strength to be unknowable. Do not undermine us needlessly ⁝⁝

Osiris smiled behind the mask. For all his words of wisdom and assertive nature, he occasionally came off as a grumpy old man. Given his age, perhaps such an analogy was more accurate than he initially thought. But whether he approved or not, Osiris could feel the Dark Side's energy coursing through him, like electricity burning through his veins. It used to be so painful for him, impossible to adapt to... except now, while not entirely pleasant, felt more like a minor nuisance than a true hindrance. And that was what disturbed the former Jedi most; for better or worse, he was becoming used to the Dark Side again, and it would only be a matter of time before he'd feel nothing adverse at all.

A slight ping of fear surged through Osiris, which only lent itself to the Dark Side coursing through him. In that moment, he steeled himself, both mentally and spiritually. He chose this path for a reason. He couldn't go back now. He would not.

"I've been called many things, and I've been many things. I am many things. But as it stands, you may call me Osiris", he said, glancing down at the ashes of the destroyed holocron. Ironically enough, its destruction irked Osiris himself; the old ghost was far too impulsive in his actions. "Seems that you are more than a plunderer that steals from the grave. You believed I'd not know of you. You were right. Reclusiarch and Shadow Conclave? They're both meaningless to me."

At that, Osiris rose his hand inquisitively, as if inviting the Reclusiarch to continue. "By all means then, give them meaning"

 

[Shalken]

Shiro was unsure of this man's intentions. Though this 'Osiris' seemed inquisitive, like himself, the Duke couldn't shake the feeling that the man was challenging him to prove himself. Nevertheless, the Reclusiarch noticed a slight change of tone in Osiris' voice, almost as though the other of the two presences had now assumed control. "The Shadow Conclave is, at its core, a secret society dedicated to maintaining the balance of power in the Galaxy, and keeping from it information too dangerous for it to know. As Reclusiarch, I am its leader and keeper."

Withdrawing a black flower from the folds of his Mantle, Shiro peered at its delicate petals while turning it gently in his hand. "I, too, am called many things and have been many things, though perhaps not in the same sense as you. Suffice to say, you may call me Huginn."

With a sudden snap of his fingers, the Force manifested in fire, igniting the flower's petals. And yet, something mysterious happened: the flower did not disintegrate into ashes. The flames licked about the petals for but a moment, before shrinking into the center of the rose and leaving glowing embers in its place. Thus was the calling-card of the Shadow Conclave.

"Eons ago, even the mention of the Conclave was enough to strike fear and respect in the hearts of those who heard it. Though we have diminished since such times, I have rekindled the old flame. Such is my duty as Reclusiarch." Shiro was unsure of this man's allegiance. Perhaps he could discover Osiris' intentions by uncovering his own. He continued, "We in the Conclave do not join in the great conflict that has existed since the dawn of the Force's discovery. We believe that the Force, at its core, is a tool — one that must be respected, but still a tool. I personally have no qualms about utilizing the Dark Side to achieve my goals, though there are many of us that follow the path of the Light."

Taking the rose, the Duke cast it gently to the ground between him and Osiris — more of a ceremonial gesture than a challenge. Still unsure of this mysterious man's intentions, he decided to do some questioning of his own, though remained as cautious as before. "You have told me your name, Osiris, but that has as much meaning to me as Huginn and the Shadow Conclave had to you. What, exactly, are you? You are unlike any being I have ever encountered in my lifetime, and in the lives of countless historians."

@Korvo​