Within minutes of a brisk pace, the world around me shifted. Now, no matter which direction I took, the path led upward. I wouldn't be surprised if this island was of volcanic origin; it would certainly explain what lay beneath my feet.
The reddish sand had given way to a gray substance that most closely resembled ash, though it likely wasn't. A palpable aura of the Dark Side emanated from the thick layer of the stuff.
That in itself was hardly surprising—darkness permeated everything here. But this particular substance felt even more... concentrated, as if the very ground were saturated with it. I wondered what kind of rituals had been performed here to achieve such an effect.
My feet sank into the deep soot, which kicked up and clogged my eyes, mouth, and ears. Having covered only about three kilometers from the coast, I was forced to slow down.
The half-meter-deep layer of ash made normal progress impossible. I imagine this is how travelers feel trekking through a desert. The ash constantly shifted underfoot, and several times I nearly went sliding down the slope. I had to stomp my foot down with every step just to gain some semblance of a foothold. One sharp or hasty movement, and I'd find myself dropping to my knees to keep from plummeting.
The taste of burnt metal and a sharp, woody bitterness settled in my mouth.
Had it not been for the rain, which was beginning to pour harder, packing the ash down and making it slightly more solid, I don't know how I would have made it. I likely would have spent every second step stopping to spit the grit out. Now, the thin streams of water at least kept the filth from kicking up into a gray cloud with every motion.
As I pressed deeper into the island's interior, the twisted, gnarled silhouettes of trees began to crowd in more tightly.
In the reddish gloom, dark shadows flickered here and there, gliding with absolute silence. They appeared only for a fleeting second before vanishing back into the timber. There was no doubt in my mind: they were sizing up their prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Faintly, I could sense a couple of dozen living creatures circling me. Through the Force, I felt their predatory anticipation. They were waiting for me to exhaust myself. Then, they would fall upon me to sate their boundless hunger.
The ash muffled all sound. It felt as though ghosts were manifesting at the edge of my vision, their presence not even stirring the air. It felt as if I were treading water, walking in place. If not for the chain of footprints trailing behind me, I might have believed it.
Over the next hour, another twenty or so joined those circling me. They kept a respectful distance, simply tailing me. A few times I tried to move toward them, but they merely retreated, keeping me at arm's length. Attempts to shroud myself in the Force proved fruitless; my mastery of the technique was far too rudimentary.
Still, a few beasts wandered off, but the majority never lost my trail. Well, now I knew the situation was even worse: among these creatures were those sensitive to the Force, meaning escaping them was unlikely.
It was starting to grate on my nerves. The number of enemies was slowly but surely growing, and all I could do was keep moving. I could likely defeat them all, but I didn't want to expend my strength prematurely. They radiated a threat, but nothing beyond my capabilities. However, if someone were to discover me during the heat of a struggle, I might not react in time to a sudden ambush.
I had to maintain constant concentration, scanning the surroundings for other adversaries. It was very possible that some acolytes had already set traps, hiding in the trees or beneath the layer of ash. I had to remain hyper-vigilant.
Eventually, the incline leveled out into a vast plateau.
Black trees had been cleared away in a perfect circle. In the center of the clearing stood... well, it had probably been a large building once. Now, its original shape was impossible to discern. Most of the walls had collapsed or were leaning precariously. The ruins were in such poor condition they posed more of a threat to anyone entering them due to the risk of a cave-in.
On the other hand, it offered some shelter from the elements. And it's easier to hold a defense with your back against a wall than spinning like a top in the open.
Crouching behind a large boulder, I observed the clearing. Something didn't sit right with me, though I couldn't pin down what it was.
Tracks!
Around one of the walls, partially obscured but still visible, were dark marks. I couldn't see clearly from this distance, but there had definitely been more than one pair of feet there.
My eyes began to pick out more details. Over there, a wall was being braced by stones scavenged from another section. In the surrounding silence, I could hear a faint, barely audible whisper drifting from the structure. It might have been the wind, but who could say?
But most importantly: I saw tracks around the house, but none leading away from the house into the forest. What did that mean? Either they had intentionally swept their trail, or those inside had been there from the very beginning.
What to do?
If someone really was inside, the smart move was to pull back and find another route. Conversely, more and more beasts were circling me, and facing them in the woods was a death trap. There were already too many for me to handle alone.
Maybe I was just imagining things? And even if someone was there, who? If it were an acolyte, they would likely have moved on; this place was too exposed for a permanent camp.
If not a student, then who? Could they have sent someone else here without telling us? Easily. The question was who, and what were they capable of? Better to find out sooner rather than later. Or was I just losing my damn mind?
Still, in this business, it's better to double-check. Hutt knows what else our beloved examiners have cooked up; better to be safe than sorry.
The Force surged, answering my will. The Dark Side of this place aided me.
One of the trees on the edge of the clearing shuddered and snapped at the base with an ear-splitting crack. Notably, the sound of the impact was almost non-existent; only a massive cloud of ash billowed into the air.
The distant shadows of the beasts grew frantic, clearly confused. Before, they had been pacing rhythmically; now they scurried back and forth like a pack of terrified rats.
But my attention was fixed on the ruin.
I had been right. Above one of the walls, a large head with blue skin and glowing red eyes appeared for a second. A wide-brimmed hat obscured the face, and I only caught a glimpse. But someone was inside, and they likely weren't alone.
Excellent. Now I knew we weren't the only ones here. But the question remained: what now?
The crack of a shot made me reflexively duck, though a moment later I realized I wasn't the target.
Fixated on the building, I hadn't noticed a small figure in the same clothes as mine creeping through the trees. Apparently, my sudden move had spooked him, and he'd decided to bolt.
A crimson flash flickered and vanished in that direction. From my vantage point, I couldn't tell if the acolyte had been hit. But given the lack of any further movement, it seemed the shot had found its mark, though I felt no ripple of death in the Force.
"You actually hit him, Bane. Seems the rumors of you getting rusty were exaggerated. Though how else could they have caught you? You used to be the best bounty hunter around." A gravelly, smoke-strained voice rang out over the clearing. "In any case, things are looking up. Now we take his gear, and we've only got three more to catch."
"Stop flapping your gums," a low, half-mechanical voice cut him off. "Time is credits. They promised us a million Imperial credits for every one over the quota. And I don't plan on leaving here with empty pockets. Go check him."
"Maybe we skip it? Just put a few more rounds in from here."
"I'll put them between your eyes if you interfere with my work. We need to conserve ammo. Who knows how many of these Jedi larvae are hiding on the island."
"They aren't Jed—"
"I don't give a damn. As long as they pay, I don't care about the details. Now, move."
"Whatever you say, boss."
In the silence, their voices carried clearly even from several dozen meters away, despite them speaking quietly.
Since I was lying behind the rock, I could only see a small portion of the clearing. But then, a burly Zabrak appeared in my line of sight, vibro-sword at the ready. An open holster hung at his hip, strangely empty.
He moved with absolute silence, gliding from side to side. But all his precautions proved useless.
When only a couple of meters remained between the body and the fighter, the acolyte, who had shown no signs of life until then, suddenly pushed off with his hands and feet, launching into the air. The movement kicked up a massive cloud of ash, obscuring the view of what happened next.
A few shots rang out from the ruins, as if only one person were firing.
"You two! Flank him! It's just one half-baked Jedi!"
"I'll kill you!" The soot settled, revealing one of the acolyte's arms hanging limp at his side. Nevertheless, a bisected corpse lay before him. "Come on then, if you're tired of living!"
Two more figures emerged from the ruins: a human and a Quarren, an anthropomorphic creature with a head resembling a squid. They slowly circled the boy with the sword in a wide arc.
For a moment, the skirmish hit a stalemate. The acolyte didn't dare attack and leave his back open to any of the three; no one was firing from the ruins, and the pair flanking the teenager didn't know what to do.
The fragile balance broke with another shot from cover. A swing of the sword, and the blaster bolt deflected into the human, punching right through him. In the same heartbeat, the Quarren threw a small metallic sphere.
A deafening explosion hammered my eardrums. My ears, accustomed to the silence, went deaf for several seconds.
As if in a silent film, I saw the acolyte's scorched body fly backward, while the alien raised his hands in a victory cheer, only to clutch at a smoking hole in his chest.
The last survivor of the struggle stepped slowly and deliberately from the ruins.
The edges of his wide-brimmed hat fluttered slightly in the breeze. A lip-less mouth idly shifted a small toothpick from one side to the other. One hand reached up to tip the hat, revealing a glimpse of a metal plate beneath. The other rested on his holster. I had no doubt that the Duros could draw his blaster and put a fresh hole in any sentient being within a second.
I thought it was over, but no. Half-charred, with a mangled arm, the acolyte stood up once again. Deep shadows sunken around his eyes, his irises glowing like molten gold, the whites of his eyes turned almost entirely red from burst vessels. Even from here, I could see the veins bulging in his forehead and neck, his body racked by tremors.
"Kill... kill... kill!"
"You're too weak for that," the red eyes watched every move of the opponent. "You aren't the first Force-user I've finished off."
The Dark Side swirled around the student, pooling and saturating his body. A long leap, and his foot nearly crushed the alien's skull. The hat, caught by a gust of wind, flew off his head and drifted onto the ash.
In a one-on-one fight against an adept, an ordinary sentient stands no chance...
What?!
Instead of backing away to evade the strike, the Duros stepped forward, closing the distance. Blue fingers clamped onto the acolyte's face. Without breaking stride, Bane slammed his enemy into the dirt.
His free hand drew his pistol in a blur.
Two muffled shots, and now I felt the unmistakable ripple of death. Straightening up, he fired two more rounds into the chest and head.
"Tenacious vermin. Jedi were almost easier to kill. And the Separatists paid better. Still, as long as I'm hunting small fry like this, there won't be problems."
Picking up the fallen sword and checking his associates' pockets, the Duros vanished silently into the trees.
Waiting a few more minutes, I finally stepped out from cover. There seemed to be no immediate danger. The beasts, spooked by the sounds of battle, had retreated to a distance and hadn't yet dared to approach. No other life forms were sensed nearby.
Well, this was worse than I thought.
We really weren't alone on this island. It was pointless to guess how many of these soldiers of fortune had been dropped here. From now on, I had to expect a trap everywhere. Given they had explosives, it would be easy to trip a wire or a mine. There was likely sniper fire to worry about too...
This was a mess. And it wasn't clear what to do. Heading into the island's interior was risky. Staying on the coast was equally so. Wandering the forest made me easy prey for an ambush. Plus, the beasts and other acolytes...
Sith spit.
If there were many more like this Bane, it was lights out, get the coffin ready.
It seemed I had only two options. First, set up a lair somewhere and hunt anyone who came near. Or, stick to the original plan and move toward the center. In any case, I needed to leave this spot. Surely others would come to investigate the noise. While the beasts were away, it made sense to put as much distance behind me as possible.
Listening to the Force and ensuring all was quiet, I set off.
Beyond the clearing, the climb began anew. Now I occasionally encountered low stone obelisks or the ruins of small structures.
Trees gave way to jagged rocks. I had to move in bursts, taking cover behind ridges to avoid the gaze of any potential observer. The feeling of someone watching me through a scope hadn't left me for several minutes. It was that unpleasant sensation of someone staring at the back of your neck, yet you can't tell from where, or if it's just your imagination playing tricks.
Continuing the ascent, I found a reasonably well-preserved structure where I decided to make camp.
My legs were throbbing, and my stomach was demanding food. Several hours of nearly continuous climbing were taking their toll.
Settling with as much comfort as possible on the cold, filthy floor, I decided to take stock of my supplies again. It would be a damn shame if the containers had cracked and leaked into my pack.
Kriff, not much. With strict rationing, I had enough for three days, maybe four. After that, I'd have to scrounge for provisions. It was unlikely this would end in less than two weeks. Those who survived the first few days wouldn't die easily; they'd adapt to local life. Then again, they probably didn't send us here for a month, though only the Emperor knows. Maybe they'll wait until exactly half of us are left before pulling us out.
Even if I took food from the dead, it wouldn't be enough. Was the meat of the local beasts edible? Not a guarantee. Everything here was so saturated with the Dark Side that it could easily have toxic properties. Maybe our friends with the blasters had some supplies? I didn't know; guessing was useless, and to find out, I'd have to kill a few.
And so, lost in thoughts of where to find food, I worked through my meager rations. I wasn't full, but I couldn't afford more. It would be incredibly stupid to die of starvation given my skills.
If I couldn't recover my strength physically, I'd try another way.
There were enough debris around to block the entrance and the only window. Now no one could sneak up on me or toss a detonator at my feet. Placing my sword beside me, I sank into meditation.
Faint echoes of distant battles rippled through the Force. A couple of times, the death-pulses of Force-users flared and vanished. The Dark Side swirled like a vortex at the very center of the island, and in its middle was a bright point, the epicenter of all the darkness on the island.
Something unknown attacked my consciousness again, but was forced to retreat after striking my mental defenses. I didn't know whether to be glad that my Force-sensitivity was low enough that it couldn't fully influence me, or disappointed that opportunities were slipping right past my nose simply because I couldn't see them.
The Force flowed around me, coiling like a serpent, then straightening and continuing its path. For a while, I simply watched this bizarre dance until I noticed an anomaly.
Near my shelter, the Force was behaving strangely. It's hard to put into words, but I can feel how the Force passes through different objects. Some objects gather it, others repel it slightly, and some don't seem to exist for it at all.
But this spot, practically right next to me... It wasn't just attracting the Force; it was creating a small whirlpool, so actively was it absorbing it.
Rising to my feet, I grabbed the hilt of my sword and ignited it. The crimson blade, with a faint hum, cast a red glow over the walls of the house.
The spot I was looking for was directly beneath the wall. A few quick slashes with the blade and the unsupported stone slabs fell away. In the light of the saber, I saw dark stairs descending into the earth.
Either descend into the unknown or stay on the surface and try to pick off some loner to complete the mission. Something told me the tunnel led to the center of the island, or at least in that general direction. And it was very unlikely anyone else had found similar passages. Even if they had, there weren't many who could stand against me in a duel. Better to head down and try my luck there.
Quickly packing my gear, I hurried down the steps.
It didn't take long. Within a couple of minutes, I was standing there, head turning from side to side in fascination.
A long, square tunnel stretched into the darkness. Mysterious script was visible on the walls, barely discernible behind thick, hanging vines of dark green mottled with red spots. The vegetation was heavily thorned and so overgrown that I occasionally had to hack my way through.
A sickeningly sweet smell hung in the air, likely the result of a near-constant cycle of rot and new growth. In the flickering light of the blade, small flowers were visible growing on some of the vines. It seemed as though some of them were moving slightly, constricting and relaxing their coils, but it was likely just a trick of the shadows.
The endless corridor showed no signs of stopping. The smell was becoming intolerable. My head began to swim from the cloying, nauseating aroma. The plants, seemingly alive, sought to entwine my legs, hindering my progress. I stumbled repeatedly and nearly impaled myself on a thorn once or twice, pulling my hand away just in time.
Even through a fogged consciousness, I realized it was better not to be pricked. From the thorns of some particularly swollen plants, a black ooze was seeping. The Force warned me to stay far away from it.
Maybe I had walked for hours, maybe for minutes. The world shrank to a single point in the here and now. My body acted on autopilot rather than intent. A swing of the blade, a Force push to move the debris, a step forward. Swing, push, step, on into infinity.
Had it not been for a fresh draft of air drifting through the tunnel, I would have soon given up and remained there. My thoughts felt like massive banthas crammed into a small shop.
As if anticipating a swift victory, the plants entangled my legs more frequently. I fancied I heard an annoyed, multi-voiced hissing, as irritating as the whine of a mosquito. It was everywhere; I wanted to cover my ears and detach from it all. But still, I walked. I had no strength left, no thoughts, only a dull refusal to surrender, to not lose to this unknown enemy.
And then, there it was: the scent of victory. A faint, barely perceptible breath of fresh air.
With a hollow rasp, I tumbled into a spacious chamber, using the last of my strength to hack away the plants binding my legs. Through the Force, I heard something like a faint sigh of disappointment, and the severed vines slowly retracted back into the corridor.
I lay there, trying to recover some strength. I don't know how many times delirium faded into sleep, followed by brief moments of lucidity. Visions bled into one another—disjointed events, places, and phrases. Like a mad kaleidoscope, everything spun and shifted. Absolute void was replaced by various images, and then one agonizingly long moment lasted an eternity.
I don't know how long it continued; eventually, I realized I had been lying on my back for half an hour, staring blankly at the high ceiling of the cavern while a cool, fresh breeze blew over my face.
Trying to push myself up on my elbows, I realized my entire body had stiffened and barely moved. Overcoming the pain, I managed a few movements, and the Force helped me recover more quickly.
Sitting up, I was finally able to examine where I had landed. The massive cavern consisted of a bridge upon which I sat, flanked by two seemingly bottomless chasms.
On the bridge, like silent sentinels, stood stone statues, practically untouched by time. They were very similar to one another, with only the patterns on their masks differing. The closer they were to the end of the bridge, the more majestic and larger they became, as if the sculptor's skill had grown as he worked, or perhaps the reverse.
The final two statues were true masterpieces. It felt as if, were I to turn away, they would step off their pedestals to defend their temple from an uninvited guest. The poses they struck also differed from the others: they held no weapons. Instead, their empty palms were raised toward the ceiling, as if reaching for something.
Yes, a temple. Now I was certain that a Sith temple had once stood here, likely abandoned by its founders long ago. But in its depths, something of immense power still remained.
The bridge ended at a massive stone slab, which was also unusual. Its sections seemed to interlock, one inside the other. The smallest was the height of a normal man, but it was part of another, much larger one. This pattern repeated seven times.
Well, it seems the adventure is only beginning. Even the smallest slab looks to weigh several hundred kilograms; I wonder if I can lift them. I could try to cut a path through, but I doubt I'm the first to have that idea, and I see no saber marks here. I'll save that option for later.
For now, all that remains is to try and lift at least one of them with the Force.
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