Chương 14: Chap 14. Dromund Kaas arc: What is dead may never die

"Please, for the love of everything you hold dear, tell me we're getting a break?" Vette pleaded.

"Everything that I hold dear is in this room, Vette." Morgan answered distractedly, looking down at the puzzle in his hands. She spluttered silently, thanking the goddess that he was preoccupied with the holocron.

'An offhanded, heartfelt compliment.' She thought, ignoring the warm glow in her chest.

'My one weakness.'

"Besides, we still need to return the mask to Ladra." Vette made a face.

"Back to the jungle? Again?" An audible click reverberated through the empty restaurant, the two droids that had served them nowhere to be seen. Morgan grinned, setting the holocron on the table.

"Got it. Thinks he can fool me with triple false pathways." He looked back to Vette, who by now had gotten herself under control again. He didn't seem to register what he had said.

"I don't make the rules. But I do have a present." She perked up, looking at his empty hands. Vette scowled.

"I don't think you know how presents work."

"You and your material greed." Morgan scolded.

"No, this is something more of a biological gift." Vette raised her eyebrow, enjoying the way his face had gone blank.

"That was really creepy."

"Yeah." Morgan forged on.

"Anyway. Teacher said I'm more or less good enough to do to others what I did to myself."

"Increased strength." He clarified.

"And speed, I suppose. But that's the same muscle, just applied differently." She straightened, looking at him with wide eyes.

"You can make me as strong as you are?"

"No, no. Sorry. That's a combination of enforcement and increased natural strength. But you should be around four times as strong as you are now."

"That's." Vette said gleefully.

"That's fucking amazing. Let's do it, right now!"

"A word of caution, Vette." Teacher interrupted, the holocron floating off the table.

"Not that I really care, but it seems proper. An increase in strength means changing many natural biological processes. Now, my apprentice has progressed adequately since his own forging, but that is not to say it is without drawbacks or risks. An increase in daily calories is required, and I cannot understate how fast you will starve without food." Vette visibly hesitated. Teacher sighed impatiently.

"Let me finish before cowardice claims you. Since you are not a fleshcrafter, or even able to manipulate the Force at all, the changes will revert naturally. I should think it needs refreshing about once every twenty four hours or so, after which you will lose your modifications over a week's period. Your daily intake of food should triple, and you will most likely be joining my apprentice in eating the calorie dense ration bars reserved for only the largest of species."

"That's not so bad." Vette rebounded.

"You made it sound like I would starve in hours."

"About a week and a half, from the normal three weeks." Teacher confirmed. She nodded her head, her lekku bouncing against the bench.

"No price too high to join Morgan in slapping around half ton battle-droids."

"That's not how that works." Morgan muttered.

"Anyway. Beside that, there are other risks. The greatest of which will be me changing your body's natural biology." Vette tilted her head.

"So?"

"So I could change literally anything. Have access to everything."

"Oh, like that." She waved her hand dismissively.

"I trust you. Not like you can't do pretty much whatever you want anyway." Morgan smiled, one of those rare moments where it reached his eyes. Vette grinned, ignoring the way her stomach did a slight flip.

"I'll endeavour to live up to it." He promised.

"Now, this shouldn't take long. Kindly keep an eye out so I don't get shanked." Vette kept still as he reached over the table, putting a hand on her shoulder. Teacher muttered something inaudible, but she ignored him. Tingling started soon after, with cramps joining them after some ten minutes. Nothing too bad, and they usually stopped mid spasm. It didn't hurt as such, just felt strange. After about half an hour Morgan opened his eyes, smirking.

"All done." Vette frowned.

"I don't feel any different?" She grabbed the edge of the table, bolted to the floor. She didn't see Morgan's eyes widen, or the way Teacher floated over the hide behind his shoulder. Instead she was focussed on her arms, and how her hands felt gripping the table. It didn't feel like super strength. She shifted her grip, pulling upwards like she wanted the table on the ceiling. Metal groaned as the table bent, snapping soon after. She held the piece in hand, confusion on her face.

"That's. You said four times, right? Not forty?" Morgan gently took the piece of table from her hands, setting it aside.

"Yes, about four times. But people underestimate how much strength that is."

"Still, I shouldn't be able to snap steel like that." She protested.

"Also I'm really, really hungry." Morgan handed her a ration bar, having one ready.

"I doubt this shitty cantina bought the highest grade durasteel available, or has been maintaining the stuff." Vette bit a piece off, looking down at it questioningly. Morgan answered her unspoken question before she could ask it.

"It's not just arms and legs. Jaw, fingers and all other small muscles have increased in strength too. Be careful not to shatter your teeth, and yes, that is something you can do now."

"What the fuck." She said, feeling her teeth break the dry, hard ration bar with little issue.

"How?"

"Part of it is to remove, or, more accurately, suppress the body's own limitations. Normally this would do nothing but make you snap every little tendon and bone you have, but I've strengthened those too."

"This is so cool." She tried to stand, slamming her knees into what remained of the table.

"Fuck. Ow, less cool."

"You'll need time to adjust." Morgan assured her.

"The fetch quest for Ladra will do fine, since you're not a close combat fighter. Took me three months to get used to it, but that was also my first time doing the procedure. Slow and steady seemed wise." She finally got out of the booth, clenching her fists experimentally. She smirked.

"Any other game changing presents you have for me?" Vette saw Morgan's face scrunch thoughtfully, waving her hands.

"Just joking."

"I know. But there might be." He spat out a string of technobabble she couldn't understand, Teacher answering in the same. She rolled her eyes, falling to the ground. She'd always been in good shape, and after the scouts she thought she'd been in the best shape of her life. She finished her two-hundredth pushup before her boss and Teacher stopped gossiping, her muscles barely feeling the strain.

Vette pushed herself up as hard as she could, flailing her arms as she went soaring in the air much higher than she had predicted. She waved her hands as she landed on her feet, skillfully pretending that was her plan all along. Morgan didn't seem to buy it.

"So, there is something we can do." She hopped onto the counter, kicking her feet.

"The greatest danger to those not attuned to the Force is Force users, be they sith or jedi. Since you can't shield yourself, or protect yourself in other ways from being ragdolled, it's really easy to kill or incapacitate you." Morgan cleared his throat.

"We can, after more research and testing, harden the Force around you. Or in you, kind of. Everyone is connected to it, and according to Teacher it's possible to make it very hard to influence your body. Your mind will shrug off all but the most skillful attacks, and even those will be muted."

"And the downsides?" She asked idly. That already sounded pretty damn good. Sure would make killing sith easier too. Teacher answered, somehow rolling his eyes.

"There are none. Unless you count needing a skilled fleshcrafter to refresh it daily, and of course becoming a much larger threat to that fleshcrafter in the process. They're usually lining up to perform the operation, just down aisle three. Next to the dish soap."

"Yes yes." Vette stuck out her tongue.

"Special bonecrafters or whatever. Less talky talk, more hardy hardening."

"I'll need time to properly instruct my apprentice in its application, and beware that sufficiently powerful Force users can still tear you limb from limb." Teacher huffed.

"The more skilled Morgan becomes, the more power it will take to break."

"We'll do it before the next operation that Baras has no doubt lined up for us." Morgan assured her.

"Now let me see who I need to pay for that table, then we can get out of here." He walked off, far enough away Vette was sure he couldn't hear. She leaned down, keeping her voice soft.

"I don't take this stuff lightly."

"You don't need to be so close. I can hear you just as well from here as from the other side of the room. It's not like I have ears." Teacher snapped. Then he sighed.

"I know you don't. Just, maybe tell him that once in a while, hmm?" Morgan returned, stopping her from replying. She beamed at him, poking the cube. Teacher hissed, making her cackle in delight. He watched, amazement clear on her face, as Vette scampered up another tree. She'd really been taking his suggestion of practising with her new strength to heart, even if she still loathed having to finish the fetch quest. The camp of the Revanites was, as with everything else they did on this planet, deep in the jungle.

It would have been a dangerous trip, if it hadn't been both of them that made it. Last time he had to kill, or scare away, numerous predators before they were left alone. Vette was more than capable of killing them, as her graduation exam from the scouts had shown, but it slowed them to a crawl. Now she made near suicidal jumps from tree to tree, using her strength to leap perilous distances. What predators they came across were swiftly put down, her sniper held loosely in one hand as she ran.

It was, all told, a rather relaxing trip. Also a tad boring, which gave him plenty of time to come up with ways to needle her.

"I'm glad you're finally taking your responsibility seriously." He told her imperiously as she jumped down next to him.

"A sith's blade should not have to touch such lowly lifeforms." Vette rolled her eyes, turning away from him.

"That's my job now, is it?"

"I'm pretty sure your job is whatever I want it to be." Morgan considered, putting a hand to his chin.

"Yes, I'm sure I've read something like that back on Korriban." He grunted.

"Then again, most of what I've read on Korriban was senseless propaganda, so maybe not." She didn't even bother to reply, which was rather rude, in his opinion, and walked ahead of him. He smiled, jogging after her. He felt the people some minutes later, coming to a clearing. The camp itself contained maybe three hundred souls, and was rather boring to look at. The warriors and guards said nothing as they approached, letting them inside without trouble. They were odd.

They looked odd, sure, robes and symbols clearly marking them as a cult. But it was more than that. Not many were Force sensitive, yet more than he expected. Maybe some twenty in total, two of them at the entrance. The two, twins by the look of them, felt focused. Not terribly powerful, maybe as strong as the average graduating acolyte from Korriban, but strangely sharp. The pair said nothing as his perception washed over them, and he realised they didn't even feel it.

That spoke of inexperience that clashed with the ease of their enforcement, even if it wasn't quite up to his level. The encampment wasn't terribly large, and he was still puzzling over the twins as Ladra approached them.

"The conquering hero returns." She smirked.

"And with gifts, I hope?" Morgan pulled the mask from his pack, handing it over silently. Ladra smiled down at it.

"Very good. The Master wishes to speak with you. Come." She walked away, leaving him to exchange a look with Vette. She shrugged, so they followed. Vette's voice crackled over their comms, hidden from prying ears.

"Look there. Mandalorians sparring with troopers. There's even a major here, and he feels safe enough to leave his uniform on. What even is this place?"

"Revanites. A cult born from Revan's shadow." She snorted, the sound distorted over the comms.

"Don't mistake this for a group of mad cultists." He warned.

"Revan brought this galaxy to its knees at his height, and he cared nothing for the prejudice that plagues the Empire today. Worse, he inspired loyalty like few before or since. When he defeated Mandalore, who was at the time threatening galaxy wide domination, he earned their respect like few have before. Wherever he went, loyalty followed. In the jedi before his fall, and in the Republic military after. In the mandalorians when he bested them. Then in the jedi once again, after they wiped his mind."

Vette was silent for a few seconds, even as they followed Ladra out of the camp. It seemed the Master didn't live with his followers.

"Unity and purpose. I'll admit that's a scary thing. What makes a jedi like that fall?" Morgan said nothing for a few seconds, looking at the sky.

"I don't know." He lied. Her voice was soft.

"Yes you do. But it's not something I want to know, is it?"

"If you do, I will tell you." Morgan promised.

"But not now, and certainly not here." The trio entered the cave they came to in silence, Ladra apparently comfortable to let them talk in private. It was well furnished, a woman reading a book in the corner. A fire crackled at its centre, burning so clean no smoke could be seen. The book was bound with the skin of beasts, letters from a language he didn't know on the cover. The paper looked rough, as if handmade. She stood as they walked inside.

"Welcome, Morgan of Nowhere." She turned to Vette, nodding her head.

"Welcome, Ce'na of Ryloth. I am the Master." He returned the gesture as Ladra handed her the mask.

"Follower of Revan." She looked down at the mask, running it over in her hands.

"A fake. What a shame." The Master threw the mask in the fire, turning back to them.

"At least it brought you to me. Tell me, sith, what do you know of Revan?" Morgan looked at her, casting his perception out into the Force. Since coming to Dromund Kaas he had focussed almost exclusively at sharpening his martial skills, but he had not forgotten what he had seen on Korriban. Shadows beyond shape. Old things that refused to die, holding more knowledge than any library could contain. He had seen what stalked this galaxy, and he sure hadn't forgotten. Nothing whispered to him.

No old ghost came to tell him secrets. In fact, the woman felt as normal as could be. That alone set off alarm bells like little else.

"What exactly are you?" The Master laughed, a surprisingly warm sound.

"That's a bit rude." Vette had warily backed up by now, eyeing Ladra. Morgan ignored them both.

"I am what is called a seedling. Revan knew his time was limited, his shackles coming to strangle him sooner or later. So in a work fueled by dying dreams, he made us. Little seeds in the Force, to bind to embryos at conception." She smiled, her eyes looking into the past.

"It was all very confusing when I was a girl. It wasn't until I found the mysteries he had left behind on Korriban that it all made sense. That I became who I was always meant to be." The Master looked back at him, answering his question before he could ask it.

"It does not matter that I am here. It does not matter if the Dark Council finds us. I would rather they not, but in the end my purpose here has been fulfilled for years now." Morgan looked at her, motioning to the fire where the mask was still burning.

"So why am I here? What do you want with me?" She looked surprised.

"I was curious about a man with no past, that is all. You have bargained with loyal Ladra here, and have both upheld your word and enjoyed its spoils. I want nothing from you."

"Then we will be leaving." Morgan said firmly. The Master waved indifferently, sitting back down.

"Of course. Walk the path with true purpose, Morgan of Nowhere." Morgan half stepped in front of Vette as they entered Baras's chamber, the scream that emanated washing over his mental shield. It held, but hadn't been directed at him in the first place. Vette had her hands over her ears, looking around wildly. He ruthlessly pressed down his instinct to help her, instead turning to Baras. Soft footsteps echoed as Vette abandoned him in favour of the hallway, smart girl that she was.

"I cannot break him." Darth Baras intoned quietly. Waves of rage washed over the room, Morgan hastily reinforcing his shields. It ebbed after some seconds, the droid keeping the SIS agent alive beeping in distress.

"This is impossible." The Lord told him with certainty.

"An unknown power must be shielding this man, which only confirms my suspicions." Morgan bowed his head in agreement. It was quite possible, but it was just as likely that the spy simply didn't care about pain. Then again, he had some idea how the Force could augment torture.

"This Republic agent is the key to unlocking the threat we face. I must harness my rage and frustration. They will lead me to an answer." Darth Baras flicked his hand, and the agent was injected with a serum. His eyes drooped, and soon enough it was just the two of them.

"The word has spread that Lord Grathan is incensed at the slaying of his secret son. I take it that was your handiwork." Morgan nodded.

"Indeed. Not without problems, unfortunately. Ba'al tried to have me killed before the task could even begin, and he took his own life before I was able to extract the needed information from him."

"Eh, no matter." Baras dismissed.

"He fulfilled his primary purpose. Every sith must attempt to orchestrate his own promotion." He stayed silent, suppressing an eye roll.

'If that was meant to be reassuring, you failed.'

"Now, back to my prisoner. There's one last possibility to break him. I thought it impossible, but perhaps there's a small chance you could pull it off."

"I live to serve." Morgan told him sincerely. It was, after all, very true. The Lord looked at him, but couldn't quite find anything wrong with that statement.

"Over a millennium past, the Emperor claimed Dromund Kaas and made the Dark Temple the epicentre of Dark Force energy. In the bowels of the temple, he conducted experiments that drained the knowledge and life essence from all the greatest sith Lords of the time." Morgan resisted a sigh. It was, as he remembered, back to the jungle.

"The Emperor created a device called the Ravager. It ate his victim's mind and delivered to him their greatest secrets."

'And what makes you think the Dark Council won't splat you like a bug the seconds you get your hands on it?' Morgan thought dryly. He decided that was actually a very good question.

"Pardon, Master, but won't the Dark Council object to you possessing such an artefact?" He asked, much more politely. Baras actually laughed.

"I do not plan on telling them, apprentice. Your worry warms my heart, but you are several decades too young to have any say in the matter." Morgan half bowed, dropping the matter.

'Here's hoping they'll decide I was just following orders.' He grimaced behind his helmet.

'That's an uncomfortable parallel to draw.'

"The Emperor keeps the Ravager hidden in the Dark Temple, which has, in his absence, become a death trap. There's a good chance the horrors that await you will be too severe. But it's worth your life to me. Go there, and retrieve it." Baras ordered plainly.

"Be swift, apprentice, and try not to die."

"As you command, Master." Morgan bowed. He was halfway out the door when Baras spoke up again, Morgan finding that to be a favourite tactic of his.

"Before I forget, I commend you. Experimenting on your slave shows ruthlessness I heartily approve of. Twist her until she breaks, and become all the stronger for it."

"It has proven most helpful, Master." Morgan couldn't help but agree. It wasn't his fault the man assumed incorrectly. Vette was waiting outside the Citadel proper, holding a taxi as she argued with some attendant. It was quite the sight, so he decided to indulge. Morgan watched, neither party seeming to notice him. He finally stepped in when a well dressed older man joined them, speaking calmly to the attendant.

"-and she is the head of his retinue to boot. Ah, here he is in the flesh. Go on, don't lose your nerve now." The attendant very much seemed to have lost his nerve, but to Morgan's surprise rallied after taking a breath.

"As I was saying to your slave, holding transportation is against protocol. Taxi's can be reserved, of course, but the system relies on the constant availability of transportation." That actually sounded rather reasonable to him. Fortunately, he was sith, and thus did not need to be reasonable if he didn't want to be. He also didn't like the man, but that was beside the point. The old man spoke, snorting as he pushed the attendant away.

"I've met blind, deaf comatose patients with more self preservation than you. Let's go, before the sith decides a spot of mayhem sounds like fun." Morgan raised an eyebrow as the protesting attendant was ushered away, looking at Vette. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. She shrugged.

"No clue. Was about five seconds away from punching him, though, so he probably saved the man's life." Morgan climbed in the vehicle, punching in the coordinates to some out of the way cantina.

"Considering your strength, that's very likely true." The ride was silent, Morgan busy thinking about the best way to approach the Dark Temple. A frontal assault seemed foolish, but he honestly wasn't seeing any other way. From what he remembered there was at least one Lord in the encampment containing the Temple, so taking command wasn't possible even if he could get away with it. His mind was just coming up with something when Vette spoke.

"Sorry about abandoning you back there." She blurted.

"Not that I could have really done anything, but Baras gives me the creeps. So, sorry." Morgan looked at her sideways.

"Don't apologise. It must have hurt, without shields as you are. The less contact you have with sith like Baras the better, and like you said it's not like you could have done anything."

"Oh." Vette looked at him.

"Then why have you been so silent?"

"What? I was thinking. Assaulting the Temple will be hard, so maybe we could corral some beasts to help us or something." Vette looked at him questionably.

"I mean the plan needs work, but that's the best I've got." Morgan defended.

"Unless you've got something better?" She sighed.

"What temple, Morgan? I wasn't in the room, remember?"

"Ah, right. Sorry. The next, and hopefully last, task Baras has for us. Getting a mind break device from the Dark Temple. It is, naturally, deep in the jungle." Vette blushed, looking away.

"We're getting what for Baras now?"

"The Ravager." He clarified.

"It's a device meant to read the minds of prisoners, extracting information and the like." Morgan's mind caught up with itself, grinning at her.

"Why, what did you think I meant?"

"Nothing!" She protested.

"So what we having for lunch?" It was the least subtle redirect he'd ever heard, but he took mercy on her anyway.

"We're not going for the food so much as the privacy. Teacher thinks I'm more or less ready to, as he put it, harden the Force around you."

"Oh, cool." Vette smiled, previous mortification forgotten.

"Best if we go somewhere semi-public then. Too private and it's ten to one the place is bugged to hell." Morgan nodded, changing their destination with a few taps. It still took him by surprise how vast the city was, even if it wasn't an ecumenopolis like Nar Shaddaa or Coruscant. The cantina was busy, but securing a private booth wasn't too hard. His lightsaber, while drawing some attention, wasn't too uncommon either. His perception told him there were four more sith on this street alone.

It appeared even sith needed to relax. Teacher hovered in the middle of the table, turning around inquisitively.

"I haven't been to a cantina in centuries. It's been one library after another, really."

"Looking for the dancers?" Vette teased.

"I don't think it's that kind of establishment."

"I seem to lack the hormones that would make that an enjoyable experience." Teacher admitted dryly.

"Now, since my subtle attempt at ascertaining our purpose here went so far over your heads it achieved stable orbit, what are we doing in a cantina?" Vette pouted as Morgan answered.

"We're being sent to the Dark Temple, so it seems this is the best time to make Vette Force resistant."

"Yup." She agreed.

"Ready to be turned into beskar." Teacher sighed audibly.

"The Dark Temple. If I didn't know better I'd think your master wants you dead." The cube pivoted to look at him.

"Actually, I don't know better. Does Baras want you dead?"

"Not quite yet." Morgan said.

"It seems I have yet to outlive my usefulness. Shall we start?"

"Very well." The cube agreed.

"Hardening the Force, or the more technical 'the application of fortifying Force around an individual, in order to impart protective qualities and enhance resilience' because scientists can't be concise even if it kills them, can only be applied to those not able to sense it. This was, in fact, the main area of research. The Lord in question wanted a way to protect himself absolute, without needing to waste attention and power on shields."

Teacher shook his head, the cube doing a surprisingly good job of conveying the gesture.

"They didn't quite fail, but it was not the breakthrough the Lord hoped for. Hardening the Force around someone made them resistant, that much they accomplished. It also cut off the subject's ability to interact with the Force in any way, making it rather useless for the Lord's intended purpose." Vette piped up.

"But it'll work for me, right? No more sending little old Vette flying around the room. Or off a building."

"Yes." Teacher agreed.

"It will work for you."

"So why not enhance some soldiers, mandalorians, for example, and send them to kill jedi or other sith? Seems obvious." She questioned.

"We've already been over this. Pay more attention." The cube scolded.

"Fleshcrafters were rare to begin with, and even less wanted to create beings capable of killing them. The Force is an enormous advantage against any opponent, and they were not eager to remove it."

"Right, right." Vette waved.

"We've already been over this. No need to repeat yourself." Morgan interrupted before he could find out if Teacher could still strangle people.

"So how does it actually work, then?" Teacher flew over to him, clipping Vette in the shoulder. She yelped.

"I should by all rights refuse to make that creature any more unkillable than she is now. But if you insist. Feel her, all of her, as you did when you strengthened her body. This time, feel her soul." Morgan did, not seeing how Vette's cheeks flushed.

"Now gather the Force around her, like you would build a shield. Applying a shield was actually the first thing they tried, but shields require constant upkeep. Instead of doing that, freeze the Force around her soul. Begin slow, and do not mind when it starts to move again. Like I said, this will need to be done once every day or so." Teacher muttered instructions as he worked, the practice he had done to the beasts in the jungle paying off. It still took him close to an hour, but soon enough he was finished.

He saw Vette breathing a little hard as he opened his eyes, frowning in concern.

"Everything alright? That took longer than I thought it would."

"Just fine boss." She said faintly.

"Not quite used to people messing with my soul is all." Teacher huffed.

"You can't feel your soul. The creature must be messing with us again."

"Oi, I've a name." Vette protested.

"And I will use it when you prove to be less annoying than a mosquito." Vette leaned back, horror written over her face.

"Take that back!"

"No." She mumbled an old child's tune as she dropped from the tree, landing easily. Her new strength still brought glee to her like little else ever had, and she would take any opportunity to flex it. Vette shook her head as they came to the camp, walking forward to speak with the troopers on guard. Her boss was busy broodily staring at the Temple, even if she had to admit it was quite the sight.

"Lord Morgan to see whomever is in charge." She said formally. The trooper snapped a salute, scurrying into the base.

'That's also pretty cool.' Vette admitted to herself. Effectively holding the rank of captain really did wonders for the cooperation of the rank and file. She looked back, seeing Morgan just stand there. He, she was forced to admit, did help. She skipped over.

"Whatya doing?" Her boss shook his head, his eyes focusing on her. It was unnerving how piercing his stare could be, even through his helmet. Or maybe she was imagining things. She did that sometimes.

"Feeling for beasts. There appears to be a large concentration somewhere east of here, likely near a water source." She hummed in agreement, filed away his absent mindedness and wondered if some arcane piece of knowledge was about to be revealed. It had happened before, and she wasn't stupid. Liked to pretend to, sometimes. And she wasn't winning any academic awards, to be sure. But she was observant, and very good at judging character.

So a man, ignorant of the most basic things, yet knowing the most arcane lore, was either lying or suffering from memory loss. And her boss's memory was fine. He knew more than he was telling, that much was clear. Still, he was entitled to his secrets, just as she was to hers. A sith came walking up, interrupting her daydreaming. Simple robes hung off his frame, with no armour to be seen underneath.

"At last, the Dark Council has answered my petitions and sent a powerful fighting sith to help secure the temple!" She raised an eyebrow, hidden behind her helmet. That was a rather warm welcome, especially from a Lord.

'He's either desperate or nice, and I'm betting on desperate.'

"I'm afraid not, my Lord." Her boss answered. She hated hearing the plain, polite voice he used when talking to other sith. Devoid of all personality or emotion. It reminded her of what little he had told her about his life before they met. It matched her darkest days blow for blow and then some.

"Of course. I've been ignored again. How stupid of me." The Lord muttered.

"Do they have any idea the work we're doing here? Those pretend sith in the temple wake up another sleeping Ancient and the whole of Dromund Kaas is dead."

"Seems like maybe we have a shuttle to catch." She muttered. The Lord's head snapped to her, glaring. Her boss half stepped in front of her, grabbing his attention. She smiled behind her helmet, touched.

"I may not have been sent by the Dark Council, but I have been given the authority to enter the temple." The Lord sighed, glaring at Morgan instead.

"That's something. You could still save this planet, if you act fast. The Temple is old, much more so than many know. The Emperor built it on already ancient ruins, constructed by unknown hands. His slain enemies still hold power, and He filled the Temple to the brim."

"It was sealed, yes?" Morgan asked. He continued without waiting for an answer.

"And let me guess, someone went looking for new toys. Ironic, I suppose." The Lord nodded, clearly unhappy himself.

"With His attention elsewhere the ambitious and foolish have become bold. Truly, the most dangerous combination in any sith. They awoke an Ancient, Lord Kallig. Their expedition was plunged into madness, as were the four others before I assumed command."

"Estimated sith?" Morgan inquired politely.

"Over twenty in the first expedition alone." The Lord said grimly.

"And that's not counting the pretend sith, who wield very real power. What scant report we recovered did suggest an internal struggle, so I cannot speak to the current number of souls in the temple."

"How can I assist?" Vette rolled her eyes. Offering to help looked better than being ordered to, but still. Offering just rubbed her wrong.

"Fuse the half ton hinges on the tomb doors, and even a violent assault should not awaken them. A copy of the latest map and the locations of the doors will be sent." The Lord waved to a soldier close by, who saluted and ran off.

"The team before me had the right idea, if the wrong execution. They hauled a metal torch inside, industrial, strong enough to warp the hinges. Recover it, seal the tombs." A strangled wailing noise reached them, emanating from the temple. Soldiers shook in fear, with some even dropping their weapons all together. Only the three of them remained unaffected, and Vette realised her mistake when the Lord looked at her curiously.

'Force stuff. Great. Now he knows something is special about me.' Vette mentally complained. The Lord turned back to Morgan.

"Best hurry. Those have been growing in power for days." They walked off after her boss bowed, a gesture just as devoid of personality as his speech. It was only when they were alone, somewhat closer to the beasts he had felt before, that some semblance of life returned to him. In the form of annoyance, something she was quite proud of.

"Let go of the swamp thing, Vette."

"This is a real snake." She said proudly.

"I think so anyway. Look, it has legs. That means it's a snake."

"It most certainly does not." Morgan sighed.

"Now throw it away before we find out if it's poisonous."

"Venomous." She corrected, throwing the probably not a snake away.

"It's poisonous if you eat it and get sick. Venomous means you get sick when it bites you." Morgan turned his back to her.

"For all I know you were about to take a bite out of it." She let that one pass, smirking. Operation break the robot completed, flawless victory. She bounced after him.

"So what's the plan? We gonna do the thing we did on Korriban? You know, where we made the beasties eat each other? How would that help?"" I." He corrected pointedly.

"Am not. Cooperation should be just as possible. Let's hope my ability to mess with the minds of lesser sentients has improved, because I don't see another way of breaking past two hundred madness induced soldiers."

"We did it with the rebellion." She shot back.

"That was way more than a few hundred, and you walked in like you owned the place." Morgan motioned her to stop, jumping up a tree. His voice cracked over the comms as she followed.

"These aren't barely armed slaves. And I somewhat doubt my ability to intimidate the mad, nor am I all that eager to find out if my lightsaber can reflect hundreds of blasters." That was fair, she privately admitted. Vette looked down, only one drinking Sleen to be seen.

"One does not an army make." She quoted glibly. Morgan stayed silent, to her disappointment. Several minutes of boredom passed, until the Sleen stopped drinking and ambled over. Morgan's voice finally came over the comms.

"I've suppressed its competitive nature, and convinced it this is a good place for a nap. Some few dozens will do. Let's go." She followed, and several boring hours passed. First they had to find them, something made rather easy by Morgan's ability to hone in on them. Then it was several minutes of hiding in trees, trying not to spook the things. Then they usually walked away from the water, settling down for their naps.

When they finally gathered enough, Morgan insisting four dozen was better than three, they had to gather them all up again. To make it worse, Morgan went silent when they had collected about a dozen together. Apparently it 'takes concentration to stop them from killing each other' and 'this is way more difficult than it looks'. Her boredom was replaced by nerves as they finished collecting their horde. She had killed all of the beasts they had gathered here before, true.

But hearing them hiss and roar as they bumped into each other made her question the soundness of this plan.

'Theory is all well and good, but if you lose control of this many they'll break down the damn trees to get to us.' She grumbled. She had been able to get him to not add any climbers to their ranks, so that was a small consolation. Should give her about a five second head start before the trees came falling down. Finally, after both a boring and nerve racking afternoon, they reached the edge of the Temple. It loomed above them, easily clearing the tallest trees. Morgan stilled, the horde roaring as they charged.

They went unnoticed amidst the charging tide, hiding high up into the treeline. She had to admit it was quite the sight. Almost enough to make up for the sheer boredom. Almost. Mad soldiers and sith noticed quickly, but it did them little good. The fight moved further ahead, so she grabbed her sniper. Its scope allowed her to see the sith had almost immediately withdrawn to the entrance, where they stood their ground. Behind them were scores of troopers and armed slaves.

It was disconcerting to see not a single one waver as the beasts closed the distance, finally done snacking on the few too slow to run. She estimated at least thirty dead already, the rest either guarding the entrance or inside the building.

"So what you do to make them charge like that?" She asked idly. The sith had shot forward, cutting down near a fourth of the horde in one swoop. She saw several jump out of the melee, but most didn't. Stupid. Not like the Force makes you immune to claws and teeth.

"Breeding frenzy." Morgan answered, having produced a set of binoculars from his pouch. She smirked, knowing the phrase 'special sight for special boys' could be found on them. Vette couldn't wait until he found it.

"It was one of the few things most of them have in common, and I even convinced them the little hairless apes were 'taking their mates away'."

"That's sexist." She half mindedly argued. With the sith having so selflessly sacrificed themselves the soldiers were having a shit time of it. The beasties were in a proper mood, and the low power of most blasters did little more than annoy them.

"I said mates, not women." Morgan argued back, just as distracted as she was.

"Some of those brave volunteers were female, I'll have you know." The last of the troops retreated back into the temple, followed closely by half the remaining horde, and she was about to sarcastically congratulate him when they came storming back out. She was about to ask Morgan what had happened when she saw herself. The beasts were taking the place of the dead soldiers, splitting in groups and actually patrolling. She looked to the entrance to see an old man walk back inside, slave collar still on his neck.

"Fuck." Morgan cursed.

"I've lost my connection to the beasts."

"This was a great plan." Vette mocked.

"Really, we've replaced mad soldiers with mad apex predators. Great strides have been made."

"Shut up." He snarked back.

"The sith are dead, that's something. Let's see if we can sneak around to the entrance." The first part of the new plan, Vette thought, was going rather well. The wind was on their side, blowing their trail back into the jungle. While the beasts were patrolling, they weren't doing a particularly good job of it. Bad part was that they were significantly faster than normal guards, and also had excellent hearing. Still, she guided them without issue to as close to the entrance as the trees allowed.

From there it was a matter of removing the four Yozuks adamantly sticking to the gaping dark hole that served as the entrance to the temple.

"Wait, aren't those nocturnal?" Morgan suddenly asked.

"I mean, not to complain, but why were they just ambling around the jungle at midday?" Vette looked through her scope, checking for any signs of an ambush.

"I assumed it was Force fuckery."

"Eloquently put, as always." Morgan sniped.

"Planning something?"

"Look." She said, motoning to the rest of the patrols.

"They're straying rather far. Further than they should, anyway. I think I can lure the lot guarding the entrance over here, but from there you'll need to be quick."

"Don't particularly feel like fighting all of them." Morgan agreed easily.

"Four I can manage, however." His agreement caught her off guard slightly.

'Still not quite used to being treated seriously, eh?' Vette slowed her breathing, aiming carefully. Killing one would likely draw the whole lot, so wounding would have to do. The shot rang true, completely silent if not for the grunting of the wounded beast. Her plan worked, but she had somewhat underestimated the speed of the things. They moved faster than they should, her hope of wounding them all vanishing as quickly as the beasts ran.

Morgan dropped heavily to the ground, his landing swallowed by charging beasts. Muted red shone from below as Vette repositioned, using a vine to swing to another tree. Even with her own enhancements her boss's speed still amazed her. One moment a Yozuk was swinging a meaty fist, the next it was falling, Morgan riding the body to the ground. She managed one more shot before the melee grew too thick, but it didn't look like he needed it.

Looking at him now, jumping and dismembering as he went, she wondered if he couldn't take the whole lot anyway. Vette voiced that question when the last beastie fell, her voice crackling over the comms.

"Not to question your Lordness, but didn't look like you had too much trouble there." Morgan motioned to the entrance, and she followed high in the trees.

"Even if I could, and that's a maybe at best, it would take too much out of me. Not to mention doing so without sustaining injury is laughable. I heal fast, but not that fast. Yet." She didn't like how picturing a hurt Morgan made her feel. She had seen him with wounds, sure. But it was always the rugged, non-critical wounds. The kind that made people hotter, not sickly. Her mind flashed back to Korriban, to the first time she had met Teacher. Not that she knew his name back then.

Morgan had been doing something to his hand, something reconnecting.

'Reconnecting nerves.' Her mind supplied.

'What the fuck, he lost a hand?'

"You lost a hand?" She asked as they neared the door. More of an entrance, really, seeing as no actual door was to be found. Just a yawning chasm into darkness. Morgan flexed his right fist, making Vette frown.

"I reattached it." He assured her, unconcerned.

"Besides, that was months ago." She didn't reply, not liking the way her gut twisted. They entered as she stewed on her very much non-existing feelings. No one stopped them as they walked deeper inside, the map helping them avoid most of the traps. The sheer darkness, traps and creep factor did make for an excellent distraction. They made good time, seeing no sign of the pretend armies marked on the map.

It wasn't until they came to the torch that something happened, several shadowy figures blocking both sides of the hallway. Her helmet let no sound escape as she hissed.

"Don't suppose you neglected to tell me these guys were sneaking up on us because they were so weak it didn't merit the wasted oxygen?" Morgan didn't reply, turning to their ambushers. His voice came out amplified tenfold.

"By the order of Lord Kallig, you are to leave this Temple and report on the outside world." Vette wondered briefly if he had been an actor in whatever life he had led before Korriban. She had seen two sides of him now, and only one she liked. His cold, detached persona creeped her the fuck out. She understood it, but she didn't like it. The second was as he was around her, sarcastic and easy going. Now he sounded more like the Lords she had heard on Korriban. His voice thundering not with anger, but impatience.

As if it was never in question that they would obey. A tone that spoke of bored command, the natural order of things. It did funny things to her stomach, but now was not even remotely the time for that. The figures stilled, hesitating. Vette didn't blame them.

"You speak for the Ancient?" One of the figures walked forward, his black robes dusty and tattered. It was so old Vette wondered how it was still in one piece.

"I speak with the authority of sith." Morgan stated.

"You and yours are to leave, right now." Some of their ambushers flinched, taking a step back. Their spokesperson didn't. He took a step forward instead. Her boss barked a laugh.

"One more word, welp, and your head will be on the floor." The stranger took another step forward.

"You do not smell of the Ancient. You smell of woo-" Morgan stepped, seeming to blur forward to her eyes. The man backtracked too slowly, and a dull thud resounded as his head smacked against stone.

"Get the fuck out." Morgan ordered to the shadows. Vette lowered her blasters as the figures melted away, leaving their comrades' corpse behind.

"Shit boss, didn't know you had it in you."

"I did once command sith." He answered calmly, sheathing his lightsaber.

"They tend to need a firm hand, even if they are not as volatile as most. Glad that worked though. I'd rather save my strength." He picked up the torch, an unwieldy thing at the best of times. Vette made grabbing motions.

"Gimme. I like big fire stick." Morgan handed it over, Vette grunting at the weight. She grinned as she managed to balance it.

"Never gets old." The doors were marked clearly enough, and they didn't encounter any more surprises along the way. Welding the hinges was harder than actually getting to the doors. In the end, and after some arguing, Vette balanced on Morgan's shoulders as she welded. It was just high enough to reach, and the torch was easy to use. The second vault went as smoothly as the first, but it was at the third that they encountered trouble.

Not in the form of actual people, those had been suspiciously absent, but in the form of a hologram.

'A half person.' She decided.

"Hello, stranger. My internal chronometer tells me it has been exactly 963 years since this hologram was made. Have the sith truly lived in fear of me for so long?"

"Yes." Morgan answered. The hologram flickered in surprise.

"But you knew that. Just as you know that I can see you, Ancient." It looked like a normal hologram to her, but she wasn't the expert here.

"Ahh, a fleshcrafter. Your kind always did have better sight than most." The hologram flickered more, half melting to reveal something not quite a person. Limbs were replaced with holographic representations, and its head was crowned with large horns. Vette resisted the urge to palm her blaster.

'Half person indeed.' Vette thought as it spoke.

"I am, or was, Kel'eth Ur, a born sith and follower of the Force. Like so many before me, I challenged the Emperor and was buried in this temple." Kel'eth stepped forward, slowly drifting to the floor.

"It didn't quite take. I had just enough time to make this, a vessel for my consciousness." Morgan bowed politely, Vette taking a cautious step back.

"Transferring my mind was more difficult than I imagined. This is what is left. Not a hologram, but not Kel'eth either. Something less than whole, but more than nothing." The Lord was silent for a few seconds, flickering as if distracted. It spoke up again, changing the subject abruptly.

"The way of the sith lies in channelling the Force through the use of powerful emotions. Fear is the chief of these. The sith feed on palpable dread." The Ancient looked at Morgan, who had taken off his helmet. Vette took another step back.

"It's a lie. Fear is a lie. Passion, a lie. Fear gives temporary power, and passion is easily manipulated. Real strength in the Force comes when one is no longer afraid." The Lord smiled broadly.

"But I don't have to tell you that, do I? To think you have managed to live this long, not even a Lord yourself."

"There is only the Force." Her boss said quietly. The Ancient laughed.

"Exactly. It seems I was not as forgotten as I had feared. Come, come. Sit." Ghostly chairs appeared from nowhere, and Vette had the distinct feeling she was out of her depth. Morgan sat without hesitation, but she had to resist poking the things. She didn't take a seat.

"Everything there is, life and death alike, is wrapped up in the Force. With it, the lines become blurred. What is dead will not die, and what is alive can feel far beyond what I ever thought possible." The chairs disappeared without warning, her boss somehow managing to stand instead of fall.

"Apologies. It seems I overtaxed myself. I would ask you to deliver my findings, but you are so much more than that." The Ancient looked behind himself, flickering again.

"It seems I must go. The device you seek is in the lower vaults, past strong defences. Beware the Puppets." Kel'eth faded, his horned helmet the last to go. He bowed his head.

"Blessed peace be upon you, Je'daii." Vette sighed. Guess it was back to walking. Who knew that tomb raiding could be this boring? They journeyed to the vaults, their map showing its location. She could have sworn that section wasn't filled out before, but Morgan didn't seem to question it. It was when they passed the defences, old and most in dire need of repair, that she spoke up.

"What's a Je'daii? Sounds like jedi." Morgan stepped over a pressure plate, his knives cutting through the starved beasts with ease. Poor things must have been here for generations.

"The precursors to both the jedi and sith. That order was founded on Tython, and disbanded some, what, twenty thousand years ago?"

"But why did he call you a Je'daii?" He sighed.

"Because unlike the jedi and sith, the Je'daii embraced the Force whole. I do the same." His tone was quiet, so Vette looked around. No one was to be seen, of course. They hadn't seen anyone since the Ancient. She shrugged.

"So?"

"So, if the sith find out they'll kill me. The jedi will lock me up, and I'll spend the rest of my life in a small cell, prodded by every scientist and loremaster they can find."

"Why?"

"Because both orders fear what they don't understand. The jedi will condemn me for using the Dark, the sith for the Light. Either way, I'm a threat."

"That's stupid." Vette complained.

"That's religion." Morgan said dryly. She scowled at him playfully.

"I happen to be part of a religion myself." He ignited his lightsaber, cutting through the thick door that barred access to their price.

"That's your choice. I'm not saying faith is bad, just like I'm not saying it's good. I don't pray, but personal faith can give someone strength. A reason to move on, when everything tells you to give up." The door fell off its hinges, Morgan clipping his lightsaber to his belt again.

"It's organised religion that tends to do silly things like crusades, mass indoctrination and suppressing information." She didn't argue the point. It had been a token protest at best, and it's not like she was all that religious in the first place. She prayed to the goddess, of course, but it was informal. Personal. Her boss moved to the centre of the room, a pedestal holding nothing but dust. An outline of missing dust showed the shape of a device twice the size of her hand. Morgan sighed.

"Well, mission failure. Let's get back to camp and see if the Lord there has any more information. Stumbling blindly around this place is likely to get us killed." Vette hummed in agreement. The track back to the entrance was tedious more than dangerous, but the closer they came to the way out the more tense she became. It wasn't until they were four hallways from fresh air that Morgan stopped her. Shadows melted from the walls, hidden passages opening to spit out many more.

Half a hundred souls barred their way before long. At their head was the old man she had seen walk back into the temple, when the beasts had been turned against them. Dangling from his fingers was a device twice the size of her hand.

"Looking for this, little intruders?"