Chapter 46 : The empty Seat

Tyrene stared up at the towering form of Gaarurra, eyes squinting against the sun shining down on us all as she did her best to look intimidating. The Wookiee looked more amused than threatened, however.

With her presence here, my plans had to change, which meant letting her know that he was around in case his presence would have an affect on her own plans. All it would take to have everything come crumbling down would be her blabbing to Scriver.

So after I left camp for my patrol, I arranged for us all to meet here and corroborate our story.

"So," She started slowly, finally turning to me after a moment, "How are you going to explain him being here?"

"Platoon mascot?" I suggested glibly. The glare I received in return was completely worth it, "He's a labor slave that we took in after finding out he's really good at tearing apart monsters?"

Gaarurra sent a sour look my way but huffed in agreement. He wasn't pleased with it but he would go along with the story.

"And his Force Presence?" Tyrene pressed, "Darth Scriver would be able to sense him. Ancestors, even Ortan would be able to."

That was the crux of the problem. Gaarurra had an enormous presence due to the raw strength of his connection, even if he didn't normally make much use of it. Even when he was on the opposite side of the academy, I had no trouble finding him because of it.

But as I opened my mouth to reply, my Wookiee companion smirked. Slowly, his presence began to shrink.

Both Tyrene and I turned to stare at him in silence.

Bit by bit, it continued to shrink until it got to the point where we would have overlooked him if we weren't staring straight at him.

When only a small spark remained, Gaarurra huffed, "What? Did you think I wasn't paying attention all these months?"

In that moment, I was reminded that Wookiees were hunters as well as warriors. They were perfectly capable of being stealthy when they wanted to. All this time, I'd fallen into the assumption that he was avoiding the more subtle Force abilities.

It was the same kind of trap that the rest of the galaxy had fallen into.

"That…is mildly unnerving," Tyrene admitted despite not understanding what he just said, a perturbed expression on her face. I had to agree with her.

Not being able to sense something that big and powerful sneaking up behind you was fucking terrifying. And exactly the reason I was out here to begin with.

My hand twitched as the urge to check my cameras flared up. I squelched it by clenching my fingers into a fist.

I hadn't told Gaarurra what had happened. He didn't know why I was now suddenly afraid. Despite that, he knew something was wrong, as his eyes darted in my direction for a moment.

Wookiees were a lot smarter than people gave them credit for.

I cleared my throat and moved things along, "Well, that solves one problem, right?"

"If you and your furry friend are careful, perhaps," Tyrene replied, "Darth Scriver might be too distracted with his research to pay much attention, but Ortan is not. He will be keeping an eye on any…oddities, shall we say. And he will not be as inclined to keep quiet."

"Anything we should know about this Ortan before we get too close?"

"He's dangerous and he is no fool," She said immediately, "Six apprentices went into the mountain that day. Only three came out again. The third was killed for her cowardice."

"Did you all have the same mission?" I asked, to which she nodded.

Six apprentices had been sent to hunt Terentateks. Three were killed, either by the Terentateks or by other dangers in the mountain, while one fled.

The trial grounds had been "small" enough that only a single pair of Terentateks would have been present. Tyrene and I had killed one of the monsters. But I'd been wondering where the other had been.

As it turned out, Ortan had killed it. Unlike Tyrene, he had probably killed it by himself.

"Right. Avoid Ortan if we can without being suspicious about it. Keep our mouths shut if we can't."

Without a better plan, it was about all we could do.

...

After we got back from a day of brutally murdering the wildlife, it seemed that Darth Scriver's patience had finally run out when it became clear that the Tu'kata were swarming to the area faster than we could kill them and that we weren't making any progress despite nearly a week of effort.

Thankfully, he wasn't stupid and waited until the next morning to give out the order to pack up camp, allowing the men to get a night's rest.

From what I was able to glean by listening in, the original plan had been to clear out the area before any arcane work was done. Whatever ritual Scriver had concocted, it was apparently very delicate and might have disastrous results if interrupted. That, or he didn't have enough material to attempt it twice.

The new plan was to go to the planned ritual site and bunker down. While he started casting, the Second Platoon and the apprentices would hold the perimeter. Because of that, Gaarurra and I couldn't use the Force overtly without giving ourselves away to the Sith that didn't know we were here, limiting us to using only guns and blades to kill the half-ton armored monstrosities.

Still, at least the soldiers could actually use the heavy guns, most of which weren't man-portable and couldn't be used on foot patrol.

That said, the trip there was kind of easy, especially for Korriban. Thanks to the rapid-fire cannons bolted to the speeders accompanying our little convoy, most of the Tu'kata we encountered were quickly blasted away in whole groups.

The survivors were picked off quickly enough that I didn't even have to draw my weapons.

I did get a bit worried about the absolutely massive Pelko Bug swarm that had started heading towards us. At least until Darth Scriver had just…batted them away. Just a wave of a hand combined with an irritated expression and they immediately reversed direction.

Yeah, I was going to avoid getting his attention for as long as possible. Scriver was no conjurer of cheap tricks.

All in all, it was only a half-hour of travel. But as we grew closer, I could feel the air growing heavier and heavier as the concentration of Dark Side power grew stronger. It pressed down on me, almost forcing me to slouch under the strain. Whatever it was, we were getting close.

When we arrived, Scriver was gracious enough to let us set up the perimeter first before he got to work.

The men of the Second Platoon unloaded everything they had brought with them, their movements a blur as they methodically set up as many defenses as they could. Earthworks were built up around the turrets and speeders, mines were laid outside the perimeter, and snipers were put into position.

They were all equipped with the heaviest weapons they could requisition.

With my own heavy blaster rifle in hand, I stood with Maklan and Gaarurra. Thankfully, neither Ortan nor Scriver had asked too many questions about the Wookiee after the initial explanation. We even strapped a deactivated shock collar to his neck to sell the image, though why Maklan had one laying around I'm not sure.

Still, we were doing our best to keep away from both of the Sith, though I kept an eye out for where they were.

Scriver had positioned himself in the center of the encampment, where he had set up an altar. As I suspected, there were two glass bowls placed on it, filled with the black blood of a Tarentatek. Positioned on either side of the altar, two braziers sat, waiting to be lit.

Ortan was pacing back and forth near the western side, opposite of me. I didn't need to reach out to sense that he was working himself up for the coming fight. Tyrene, positioned to the south, was doing something similar.

With me covering the east, the north side, the one facing the wall of the valley, would be our weak point, even if the other Sith didn't realize it. Maklan had accounted for it, placing more turrets and mines on the northern and eastern sides to compensate, both to cover for his men and to keep me hidden.

When the noise of movement finally stopped and silence descended, I could feel the moment it began.

Thu-thump.

Korriban's shriveled, blackened heart beat once as the first words left Scriver's mouth. As it had with Castor in the tomb of Marka Ragnos, the Force seemed to wretch as the Dark Lord wove his sorcery in the tongue of the Sith. Reality itself screamed as he forced it to comply to his demands.

Compared to that, the baying cries of the Tu'kata were just whispers.

When Castor had raised the dead, I had been nearly a mile away and watching through cameras. Now, I was barely thirty feet away.

My thoughts turned sluggish as I watched in slackjawed awe. It was horrifying…but awe-inspiring at the same time. To have that kind of power…to force existence to obey your will.

I wanted that. I wanted that badly.

A large hand clamped down hard on my shoulder and shook me. Only after a moment did I realize that it was Maklan and that he had been screaming at me for nearly a minute.

Shaking my head, I quickly refocused on the oncoming horde.

Whatever Scriver was doing, it was attracting all of the Tu'kata in the area. From what I could see, nearly a thousand had come, charging across the distance with their Force-bolstered muscles.

The snipers and turrets were already blasting away, dropping them by the dozens. Rockets shot out from our ranks and into theirs, throwing limbs and blood flying. Despite hundreds dying in the first minute, it barely made a dent.

There were so many that the troopers on the barricades were firing their heavy rifles on full auto, each bolt hitting a target without fail. Few took down a Tu'kata in one shot, with most requiring at least four.

The Sith…The Sith waited. Pacing back and forth, building their anger, building their power. Biding their time. Neither of them were well-suited for long-range, so there was little for them to do until the horde got closer.

And then the first ranks of the Tu'kata hit the mines. Thanks to the automatic sound dampening in my helmet, I heard the noise in all its spleandor as they detonated. The explosions only barely overshadowed the sounds coming from the Tu'kata caught up in it.

But it didn't stop them. They were just too enraged.

Nearly half were dead before they even reached our defenses. The turrets kept thundering a staccato beat that I didn't doubt would be stuck in my head for some time. Blaster cannons roared and I thought I heard Gaarurra roaring with them.

More mines detonated, scattering parts all over the field.

My rifle was firing and I soon found out for myself just how difficult it was to kill Tu'kata with a blaster.

I knew the moment they had gotten close enough. Despite the noise of battle, I could still hear the sounds of two lightsabers igniting, their owners battlecries sounding off right after.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

Scriver's chanting in that dark tongue was picking up pace. My heart was following suit.

The Tu'kata overran the first barricades. Though most were able to fall back to the second, some weren't so lucky. One trooper was caught in between two Tu'kata, unable to fall back.

I saw them grab him with their teeth, one holding his shoulder and the other his legs. They pulled and tore him in half at the waist, his innards spilling out onto the sands.

I blinked and it reset. The trooper was still trapped, but whole.

My blaster disappeared, replaced by my sword. It was a more efficient killing tool in the end. It shuddered in my grip.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

I crossed the distance quickly, though whether I used the Force or if it was just my adrenaline I didn't know. Durasteel bit into the first's neck as the sword sliced up and through, decapitating it.

I used the leftover momentum to redirect the blade to its next target, arcing it up and over the head of the other before bringing it down in another decapitation strike.

I didn't have to say a word to the trooper as he had already high-tailed it to the second barricade. I followed just as quickly as I forced the battlerage out of my system with an effort of will. After that, I kept myself out of melee as much as possible. I didn't need to expose myself because I couldn't control myself.

...

As quickly as the battle had come, it ended just as soon.

The auto-turrets and mines had chewed through their ranks before they had even reached the barricades. Berserkers made for excellent shock troops, but they did not last long. Even the supernatural rage the Tu'kata had been under could not push them through the grievous injuries they sustained. All the troopers had to do was finish them off.

Even then, we still lost six and had fourteen wounded, five of which were critical. That only left us with twenty-five troopers still capable of fighting. Thanks to Maklan's influence on the unit, almost everyone had basic medic training, meaning that nine of the wounded might be back in fighting shape soon enough.

As we were cleaning up the battlefield, I felt the moment the ritual finished.

There was a great crack as something shattered. Before my eyes, a section of the valley wall broke and fell apart in a hail of glass-like shards. In its place, there was a grand entranceway, shaped from the red stone around it.

On either side of the yawning maw, two immense statues stood guard. Each depicted the same thing, a warrior draped in a cloak with a great horned helm on his head. A massive blade was held before him, its tip planted at his sandal-clad feet. Something told me that it was familiar, but I couldn't remember why.

Thu-thump.

The oppressive feeling from before was still there. If anything, I would have said it had gotten stronger.

If I hadn't already known where Marka Ragnos' tomb was, I might have assumed it was his.

Darth Scriver sagged against the alter for a moment, catching his breath. It seemed that even he could be exhausted by a sudden explosion of power. But he rallied only a few minutes later, standing up to his full towering height.

"Ortan. Tyrene. With me," He barked, his deep voice echoing across the now silent battlefield. Red eyes swept over me before settling on Maklan, "Lieutenant, choose five men. You will be joining us inside."

"Aye milord," Maklan saluted.

I knew I was going to be one of the five. I was right. Gaarurra and three troopers whose names I didn't know were his other picks. We restocked our equipment from our stores before falling in line behind the Sith. Tyrene glanced back at me before turning her attention forward.

Glowrods were switched on as we entered what turned out to be a long lightless corridor. There were no sounds except for the ones we made, bouncing around the confined space.

Eventually, it opened up into a large chamber, in the center of which stood an opulent golden throne. There was nothing else in the room, save for that and the pillars holding up the ceiling.

The seat was empty. But when I blinked, it wasn't anymore.

The spectral figure's glowing yellow eyes stared at us from behind his horned helm. His cloak was pooled around him, revealing red skin and a powerful build. He was dressed sparsely, with only a loincloth, bracers, grieves, and sandals covering him. Despite that, he was radiating power.

When he spoke, his voice echoed around the chamber and in our minds.

"You are not welcome here, Jen'jidai."

Behind us, a door slammed down, blocking our way out.

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