Ancient Artifice/Chapter 2

Black. Black, as far as the eye could see, or rather, could not see.

The mystery of the cavern engulfed Delof as he slowly clambered past the rocks jutting out across the floor, accompanied by Sergeant Ryen, the Twi’lek Dija and the faithful R5-C3. The inkling the Imperial lieutenant had gained upon approaching the unknown location was increased tenfold, and the latent energy of the area sang to him like nothing else. Ryen’s hideously unfunny japes, Dija’s quiet resistance and the confused whoops of the astromech were all drowned out by the very heart of the cave, beckoning him further.

It was a heart of darkness, no doubt about it.

Terallo had known of Yavin 4’s history as a base of operations for the Sith prior to accepting the mission but had absolutely no idea as to what atrocities had been committed on the jungle moon; after all, he was far too invested in his own career to have free time to spend in the Imperial Archives, yet it seemed to all be for nought.

If Imperial High Command favoured men like Zekk Ryen, Delof thought, then the Empire would be gone within the year.

Finally, after much complaining on the sergeant’s part, the lieutenant instructed R5 to turn on his flashlight appendage. He had been trying to conserve the droid’s power in case of an emergency, but he would rather be berated for going over the mission budget than have Zekk chirping in his ear every five seconds. The bright light flooded the cavern with illustrious life and being that was clearly not present before.

It was only then that they realised their mistake.

Adorning the walls of the rocky cove were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of red-skinned monstrosities of a kind Delof had never seen or studied in the Imperial Academy. Their intimidating, muscular builds accentuated the blood-red skin found in different shades on every single one of them. Long gangly tendrils fell from their cheeks and chins, which were matched by almost identical, yet horizontal, stalks above the eyes. All of them were in the exact same threatening pose, in demonic rows along the entirety of both outer walls; it was as if some outside force was holding them up, for there were no visible hooks, ropes or any other means of suspension.

None of the unknown warriors made a sound, and the group instinctively chose to echo them in that regard. All except Dija.

The groping hand that had wrongfully claimed her and led her into the cave was now tense and by the side of its foul owner. This was her chance. So she ran.

As quickly and quietly as a mouse, she raced to exit the cavern, what little she was wearing hardly hindering her descent down the steps leading out into the machinery graveyard of the planet’s surface. The Twi’lek remained silent all throughout her escape, something that Terallo would come to appreciate; in fact, her silence was so profound that her captor only noticed her absence once she was well away from the Imperials, fiercely making way back to the ancient Sith temple where her pirate group once dwelled. Terallo knew the name of the band to be the Eellayin Wanderers – this seemed fitting, Ryen had snarled, considering they were now, like the species they were named after, extinct.

Like the blithering idiot he was, Zekk gave chase. His ardent lack of muscle mass and heavy armouring, which he wore whenever outside of his chambers for fear of being beset upon by attackers, did him no favours in his pursuit of the slave girl. Both the lieutenant and his droid stood back and did nothing, emphatically enjoying watching the sick young man lose his unlawful prize.

Then he had to ruin it.

Helpless in his race to recapture the young woman, Sergeant Ryen chose to instead hurl a barrage of insults and curses her way, which she could surely not interpret from the safety of the former rebel base. Howling and bellowing like an engorged Rancor, he swiped a small pebble from his surroundings and threw with all his might.

As if that would get her back. As if that would help them at all.

Terallo had not ever believed in destiny – he was a firm and strong believer that hard work and discipline would be rewarded at some point down the line, but the following moment almost sent him to the Church of the Force.

In a stroke of luck and fate mixed together into a cacophony of destined dread, the rock hit the edge of the cave entrance, bounced back and made direct contact with the scarlet chest of one of the dormant warriors. Because of course it had to.

With a profound and rambunctious roar that echoed throughout the rocky chamber, whatever bond kept the demonic creature shackled to the edges of the cavern withered away as it leapt into action, brandishing its three lengthened claws at the absentminded sergeant. Within mere moments, the entire area began to shake and convulse with the sheer force of the entire monstrous clan’s leashes being broken. Delof’s ears rang with the sound of harsh echoed screams.

Instinctively and idiotically, Ryen’s blaster pistol flew from its holster into his fumbling hand, pointing it directly at the closest warrior. He was trembling, and for good reason.

It took nanoseconds for the weapon to be brushed aside and Zekk to be seized by his skinny frame, one of the monsters drawing its sharp claws closer and closer towards the Imperial’s thick neck. Terallo didn’t stay around for what happened next, and neither did R5 as they retreated further into the cavern. Undoubtedly, however, there was no rescuing him judging from the atrocious screams that filled his ears as the two ran into the depths of the area, the sense of dread in his stomach growing ever more prominent and palpable.

It was only when both were approximately half a mile away from the entrance that Delof chose to turn around. He saw nothing but a sea of red – made up by both the large gathering of warriors and the streaks of blood now swept across the floor and on the walls; Sergeant Ryen’s remains were nowhere to be found.

They turned, and they ran.

With a kind of velocity that the lieutenant had never witnessed before in his thirty-six standard years of life, the feral red-skinned soldiers began their predatorial advance towards them. They slid along the walls, gnashed their teeth, even forced each other aside to be the first to feast on the flesh. Terallo duly noted the trickles of red sliding from the mouths of some of the beasts. Now he knew where Sergeant Ryen’s remains were.

Awash in panic and desperation, his eyes raced across his surroundings to find something, anything to use to halt their hungered race.

Once he did find an answer, strangely, he seemed to sense it more than see it – a massive loose boulder jutting out of the rock face above him, crudely disrupting the perfect harmony of its brothers; it hung low, loosely attached to the cave wall by a thick length of rope.

Praying to whatever gods would hear him, Delof aimed his sleek silver blaster pistol directly at the material suspending the rock in the air and pulled the trigger. The directed bolt of energy ricocheted harmlessly off an adjacent boulder before dissipating into nothingness; as he heard the aggressive drumming of dozens of predators quickly approaching, in a panic he unleashed numerous blasts in quick succession. Finally, one caught the rope and pierced a gaping hole from one side to the other, releasing the charge of the rope to the power of gravity. The lieutenant and his dutiful astromech leapt aside as the boulder cascaded to the ground, almost completely covering the only form of entrance to the chamber for the vicious aggressors now stalking them save for a few minor gaps at the edges.

It was then, and only then, that Terallo allowed himself a much-needed sigh of relief.

“Well done.”

He turned. There was no obvious visible evidence of a source for the voice, yet the vibrations of the sound reverberated for a few moments. Something was here.

Cautiously, the lieutenant rose from the small rock he had propped himself onto and began scouring the place with a watchful eye. The continued howls of anger and impatience from the warriors trapped outside the section of the cave did not help him in his analysis.

With no options left, Delof hoped to coax the voice back.

“Hello?”

For around half a minute, silence echoed throughout the chamber. It was as if the predatory monsters outside had also read the situation and chosen that very moment to quieten down.

“For a smart man, you’re not very wise, Delof Terallo.”

The very epicentre of the room began to flash and pulsate with grandiose levels of energy, flurries of rich red permeating every orifice. R5-C3 wailed in alarm and protest as the warriors again began their almost ritualistic chants of anger beyond the boulder separating the two groups; only this time, the magnitude of their unintelligible barking seemed to have increased tenfold.

Delof’s mind became infiltrated with horrific shrieking sounds and terror-inducing visions, enough to bring him to the ground in anguish, as if he was being tortured by an invisible enemy; his thinning brown hair became slick with sweat.

It was only when he somehow barricaded his brain and pushed the thoughts away that he could focus on what was before him – a large black pyramid, with stunning columns of energy visible through the triangular panels of glass. Delof could feel the power flooding from the object; it had almost a seductive quality to it, beckoning him over for reasons unknown.

R5 seemed to be more curious than he, however, and carefully approached the prismatic item, withdrawing several appendages in an attempt to access it. After several seconds of unsuccessful tampering, a bright spark of energy knocked the droid across the chamber, landing directly on its front section and breaking the arms it had been using. Though apparently rendered immobile, the astromech emitted a grunting whistle which reassured the lieutenant. At least R5 was safe.

“For now.”

That voice again, and this time coming from a discernible source. Mentally preparing himself for the quadrillions of possibilities of the sounds’ origin, he turned to see a woman shrouded in a black cloak, both there and not there at the same time. She seemed to be coming directly from the pyramid itself. With a coy smile, she addressed the Imperial.

“My name is Darth Syrinn, Dark Lord of the Sith, and you have just intruded upon my resting place.”