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Shall We Play A Game, a story that is technically a Yu-Gi-Oh and Red River/Anatolia Story crossover, but is mostly as historical romance/drama set in Ancient Egypt. I'm sure duels will happen at some point... Currently on Chapter Nine. This currently may be undergoing a major shift and rewrite.
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As it turned out, getting Vette safely and -relatively- comfortably lying down in the ritual room barring the path to Khem Val was more complicated than I had expected it to be.
No, that wasn't quite accurate.
Better to say that getting her comfortably lying down without putting her at risk of an unpleasant electrical surprise or coping a couple of feels was more complicated than expected. Especially the groping part, because goddamn was she one hell of a beauty. Exotic, curves in all the right places, and not wearing very much at all. Fortunately for her, and for my own conscience, I was still a reasonably decent human being. Groping unconscious women -that weren't one of my lovers, specifically- was not a behavior I was willing to perform, even as perverted as I was.
But I digress.
I managed to arrange her on the stone floor in a position that wouldn't leave her with too many aches when she finally came to. I'd even used my outer robe as a makeshift pillow, tucking it beneath her head with as much gentleness as I could muster. The ritual room's ambient hum of power made the hairs on my arms stand up, but at least it wasn't actively trying to electrocute either of us at the moment. Hopefully it wouldn't until I put all four of the Rods in the appropriate places, and hopefully Vette would be caught in the crossfire once I had.
"There we go." I muttered to myself, standing back to assess my handiwork, finding her to be simultaneously utterly adorable and seductively tempting like this, though the temptation was once again ignored with some ease. "That'll have to do."
I glanced toward the sealed doorway beyond which Khem Val waited for me. The ancient Dashade assassin wasn't going anywhere, certainly, and I was likely to have time to recover after opening the door -unless the ritual that opened it also disabled his shackles, but the game had always made it look like he had broken free from the rage of learning Tulak Hord was dead- , but I was hesitant to spend too much time waiting around. Vette probably needed medical attention, and quite frankly I was ready to get off of this goddamned planet. I wanted to get to Dromuund Kaas and really get things started, not to mention get my own ship! I wanted to move forward and work on gathering allies in the broader galaxy, wanted to get back to my Nicky and my Kela, wanted to work on getting out from beneath Zash's thumb.
All of which meant I needed to stop waffling around and just get down to it.
One by one, the Rods were plugged into their respective altars, slotting in easily despite the fact that everything involved was thousands of years old, and I could feel the air change, as if the ritual room itself was now paying attention to my presence. Which it probably was, in all honest, either the Force or a lingering spirit, either of which was entirely possible given the circumstances and the location. Unfortunately, that change in the air also heralded that the ritual required to open the path to Khem Val was charged and ready, which meant my next few minutes were likely to be very unpleasant.
"I don't suppose you know anything about this particular ritual, grandfather? Or, for that matter, fighting a dashade?" I asked, of thin air and the presence that was ever-lingering in the back of my mind both, and there was a brief moment of silence before Kallig's presence bloom and he stepped 'out' into the world once again.
"The ritual is worth little notice. A standard test amongst the Sith of my era, subjecting them to a bombardment by Force Lightning. The worthy embrace the pain and learn how to channel the lightning out of their bodies and into the dais beneath. The unworthy die. Nothing more or less than that." he responded, pacing past me slightly to examine the room with a faint air of amusement. "Interesting that my old friend did not bury his beast in his own tomb, and more interesting still that the tomb of this 'Naga Sadow' was built around it without releasing the beast."
"Well, according to my history lessons and some vague memories I have, Tulak Hord actually built the tomb himself, some thousand years or so before Naga Sadow was even born. There are…a lot of questions attached to that particular fact." I responded, having wondered about that myself in my previous life (alongside plenty of other people on the forums, for that matter), and I shook my head and looked at him. "Now, the dashade strategy? You fought beside Khem Val, likely knew him fairly well. What should I expect?"
"This is meant to be your trial, blood of my blood. How will it challenge you if I give you all the answers you seek?" he asked mildly, though the question was more a rhetorical chiding, and I gave him a small scowl.
"I'm not asking for an instant win, I'm asking for broad advice. Dashade haven't been seen since their homeworld was destroyed by a supernova half a millennium ago. Unlike the other trials, I have nothing to fall back on, not even the slimmest of information on what this will be like. So don't give me all the answers, fair enough, but at least give me a foundation." I didn't plead, nor did I snap, but there was plenty of emotion to be had in the statement none the less. Emotion that seemed to make an impact, as he turned and regarded me for a long moment before nodding in agreement.
"A fair enough statement. Very well then, the basics and a foundation only." he said, sounding mildly pleased, and I once again found myself wondering if I had passed some sort of test. It was impossible to tell, sometimes. "First, do not attempt to match any dashade in a contest of pure strength. You will lose. Secondly, attacks through the Force itself will be severely weakened. Third, their talons and jaws are sharper than any weapon that you can imagine, and they will use them if given the opportunity. Finally, do not presume to treat them as you would a human nor any other sentient you are familiar with. Their sense of self-preservation is lacking and their willingness to commit violence is extreme. I call them beasts because they are, for all that they possess intelligence and technology and the ability to speak."
"So, I can't fight him in melee, unless I can move fast enough to avoid his hits entirely. That leaves attacking him with the Force, which he just so happens to be resistant to. Because, of course, he's evolved to eat Force Users." I sighed, kneading my forehead and resisting the urge to point out -waspishly, no doubt- that I had already known almost everything that he told me. Or at least assumed as much, from the game. Still, he had tried to help me, and that was what mattered. "Thank you, grandfather. I guess it's time for the moment of truth?"
"A moment of truth, child, not the. One of many, neither the first nor the last." he said, and I couldn't help but smile slightly at the unspoken, or at least subtly declared, support inherent in the words. He had faith that I would surpass this particular obstacle and move on to the next, and was making sure I knew it without using so many words.
Of course, I knew better than to bring that up to him directly.
"You're right. I have too much to do to fail here. Which means I ought to stop waffling around and go for it. Ready to watch me make history, grandfather?"
"I am ready for you to prove yourself worthy of leading our House." was his somewhat neutral response, and I didn't even try to restrain the bark of laughter that snapped out of my mouth.
"Alright then, we'll go with that, I guess." I chuckled with a humor that was perhaps 25% real as I stepped up onto the dais and settled in to meditate, fully aware of what would happen once I did.
I knelt down on the stone pattern, the platform, the altar in spirit, if not in shape, that dominated the middle of the dais. It was rough, uncomfortable to say the least, but then again that was probably the point. Sith were all about pain, after all, and unfortunately very few of them were about the fun kind of pain. Mutually fun, anyway, I'm sure there were plenty like Zyn that got off on genuinely torturing people.
Sighing and acknowledging silently that I was procrastinating again, I closed my eyes and began to delve into the Force, lowering the spiritual walls I used to keep myself myself, separate from the vast and treacherous waters that represented the everything of the universe. And like a sluice gate lifted on a dam, the Force poured in. Controlled, throttled, but turbulent, and I grimaced as I felt the room respond again, more strongly.
Then I screamed, as lightning arced from the four Rods to slam into my body.
Pain. Pure, unfiltered agony coursed through every nerve ending and every cell of my body. It wasn't like being electrocuted in my old life, no zap from a socket nor even the cruelty of a slave collar could possibly hope to compare. This was the Force itself, weaponized to create pure energy, bent entirely towards electrical torment. God, this wasn't even like the times I had been struck by Force Lightning previously, whether in battle or in training. My muscles seized, my vision went white, and for one terrible moment, I thought I'd made a catastrophic and fatal miscalculation. But I wasn't alone here.
"Focus, child." Kallig's voice cut through the haze of pain, neither anxious nor compassionate, but simply calm and firm. "Do not try to absorb it or endure it. Channel it. Direct it. Become a conduit, let it flow through you and then from you."
Easy for the ghost to say. He wasn't the one being turned into human bacon via Dark Side ritual. Still, his advice was sound, very sound, and spoken with the advice of deep knowledge.
I gritted my teeth, tasting blood where I'd bitten my tongue. God knew I would be feeling that sooner rather than later, if I felt anything at all, but I pushed the thoughts -the rambling- aside and focused on following Kallig's command. On not tying to absorb the bombardment that I was enduring, but instead of bending it to my will, even if only briefly enough to send it elsewhere. Anywhere else, so long as it was away from me and away from Vette.
It was easier said than done, of course. The lightning was like a wild animal, thrashing and snarling as I tried to grasp it with my will, as determined to kill me as I was to survive. Every time I thought I had a grip on it, the energy would slip away and redouble its assault on my nervous system, but I was improving in my efforts faster than it could kill me. Slowly but surely, I took control of the conduit that I had become, channeling more and more of the lightening through, rather than into, myself. At long last, the flow cut out, the presence within the room dissipating with a sense of what I could only describe as begrudging approval lingering in it's wake, and I slumped to the ground in exhaustion.
"Well done, child. You survived." Kallig praised me, and I mumbled a confirmation and a thank you for his assistance, receiving a contemplative hum in response. "You would have remembered, and managed, without me. But the damage would have been greater, your body and strength more compromised, and as reluctant as I am to interfere with your Trials, I am even less inclined to let it be easier for my traitorous former friend's pet to kill you."
Well, it was nice to know that he wasn't entirely unreasonable about these things. I mean, I wanted to succeed on my own merits, too, but I also wanted to live, so one must do what one must do. As such, I took the time and the effort to make use of the healing technique he had taught me not so long ago to try and settle my nerves. Literally, as it happened, given that they were still sparking, misfiring, and altogether unhappy with existence and making sure I knew it. Better than a bacta bath, this technique was, though it was less efficient for external injuries and was entirely dependent on the user's internal reserves, control, and understanding of their own bodies.
Alright, perhaps it wasn't better than bacta, but I had access to it whenever I wanted, like right now, and that automatically made it the very best thing in the galaxy.
A quick glance at my chronometer told me that the eternity of pain I had just experienced had lasted less than two minutes, which obviously meant the damn thing was defective and a lying liar who lies. It would have to be replaced, of course. Fried by the lightning, no doubt. It had been hours, at the very least, long enough that Vette had fallen asleep again.
Obviously.
"Stop procrastinating, child. Complete the trial, then rest." Kallig reminded me, getting a particularly growly sort of groan from me in response, but I nonetheless pushed myself to my feet and -staggering slightly at first, then steadying the more steps I took- started towards the now-revealed Khem Val, the wall that had separated us from one another gone. And…he was watching me. Fantastic. Just spectacular. Well, I might as well go and introduce myself to my new sidekick/minion/meatshield. Which I was already on my way to do.
Fuck, my brain is cooked. Literally. Fucking Force Lightning.
"Ha! All the world conspires to mock me! Ahaha!" the beast chuckled with laughter that was devoid of amusement the moment I got into earshot, looking down on me from his place suspended in the air. "Tulak Hord! My master! I have waited for you, obeyed every command and instruction, and this is what you send to me?"
"Oh, you're awake, are you? Must have been triggered by the door opening. Pity, I was hoping to have a moment to take your measure before waking you up." I snarked back at him, posting a hand on my hip as I looked him up and down. He wasn't in his canonical appearance but was instead, much like Vette, in his crimson-skinned alternate appearance. "You must be Khem Val. My ancestor told me about you. You might remember him. Aloysious Kallig?"
"Kallig! My master's favored general! Perhaps fate is not as cruel to me as I had thought, little one. Had you not been a servant of my master, I would have broken these bonds and devoured you whole." he actually sounded somewhat pleased, or as pleased as he was probably capable of sounding, before his eyes narrowed. "But you speak of your ancestor. How long has it been, little Kallig? How long has my master left me waiting for him?"
"Since you were placed here? I'm not sure, I can only speculate. Since your master was betrayed by his apprentice and devoured by your old rival Veshikk Urk? Two thousand years or so." I responded, wondering -hoping against hope- that I would be able to settle this just by talking. If I could turn Khem Val to my side by being a recognizable ally, or something close to it, and aim him towards his old rival/his master's killer, I might not have to worry about beating him into submission until I was in considerably better shape. And considerably better trained and equipped.
The howl that the dashade let loose at my words, however, had my clapping a hand to my ears.
"VESHIKK URK?!" the words thundered through the tomb like a storm, an acknowledgement and condemnation in equal measure. "My master, devoured by that mewling worm, slave to the wretched Ortan Cela? My master, Tulak Hord? The Lord of Hate, Master of the Gathering Darkness, Dark Lord of the Sith? Conqueror of Dromuund Kaas, with whom I devoured hundreds of Jedi at Yn and Chabosh, slain at their hands?!"
"I'm sorry, but yes. Ortan Cela quite literally stabbed him in the back, then had his dashade finish him off while he was injured. Though as I recall, Ortan Cela didn't last long afterwards, either." I confirmed, feeling some genuinely empathy for the man-alien that had just found out someone that he valued highly was dead and gone and had been for two thousand years. A hard enough thing, but when you considered that it had likely only been possible because Khem had been locked in here…
"Master! My master, why? Had you kept me at your side, I would have slain Death Herself when she came for you! I would have struck them down, devoured them whole, wretch and worm both!" he lamented to the heavens, before turning his attention to me. "Why then have you come, little Kallig, before me? To bring me word of my master's death, two thousand years since?"
"No. My own master seeks to collect artifacts of yours, and commanded me to free you in pursuit of that goal. She believes that Tulak Hord buried a map here with you, one that you were meant to protect. Is that true?" I 'asked', already fully aware of the fact that the map was, in fact, here, and he gave another bark of laughter.
"Your master seeks power beyond her reach, little Kallig, to believe she can claim the knowledge of Tulak Hord!" he sneered, verbally if not visually -he didn't exactly have the facial structure for that, after all- before flexing and shattering his bonds with the same ease he had displayed in the game, dropping to the ground with a heavy, bone-rattling thud. "I will lead you to the map, little one, and meet this master of yours. But know this: I hunger, and if your master should prove unworthy of Tulak Hord's legacy, I will devour you both and join him in death."
That was…not at all what I was expecting. Not that I was complaining about avoiding a fight to the death -for me, if I lost- with Khem Val after almost getting fried right into the afterlife. Hell, this was turning out to be an amazing day, because I'd been able to kill the Warrior relatively easily. Everything was looking up!
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Khem Val, Sworn Shadow of Tulak Hord, watched as the little Kallig gave him a respectful -but not meek nor frightened, else he would have devoured her already- nod and gesture for him to walk beside her. Interesting. Neither ahead nor behind, neither her superior nor her subordinate, neither trusted nor feared. Very interesting. He had expected her to make a fool of herself, prove herself weak or unworthy within moments as so many often did in the face of his kind, but she hadn't. Then again, neither had her progenitor, so it seemed that two-thousand years had not been enough to water down their blood.
Of course, the fact that she wasn't worthy of killing yet didn't mean she wouldn't earn it later, and frankly he didn't usually care about how 'worthy' someone was or wasn't of life. But his master was dead, and as willing as he was to die and join his master in the Force, he was not a coward. He would neither take his own life nor allow another to take it easily, would not shame himself with such a surrender. Death would take him only once it had earned him, and that meant he needed a new master to serve. With no heir of Tulak Hord's body to take that position, the descendant of Kallig could make a tolerable replacement.
That would be entirely dependent on her, of course. He could devour her and find another, should it prove necessary. He had nothing but time, after all, and there were many Sith to choose from. Though he would not do so before he could gather what ever other information that she might hold about the centuries that he missed, locked away here as he was. A proper Shadow Assassin decried and avoided ignorance. Properly serving one's master required possessing all the requisite knowledge, after all.
Ah, she had asked him something. He thought back over the last few seconds of her words, instinctively catalogued by his memory even as he focused on his own thoughts, before responding.
"The tomb was not built for the one you call Naga Sadow. He must have laid claim to it in the time after it was built. Tulak Hord built it for his greatest enemy, a Jedi Lord named Belisarius, who was given command of the Jedi after my master destroyed their armies at Yn and Chabosh. It was he who organized the retreat, and in doing so grievously wounded my master, blinding him in one eye." he explained, getting a wide-eyed look of interest from the girl, who mumbled that she had never heard anything of the sort from the histories that she had been taught and studied. Grunting in amusement, he continued. "For many years, they battled, with their armies and directly alike, neither able to kill the other. My master wished to bury him on Korriban, forcing his spirit to watch as Sith after Sith fought through his tomb in their trials. A torture and humiliation unending."
"But Belisarius died before Tulak Hord could capture him?" the child assumed, understandably so he supposed.
"No, little Kallig. My master killed him in single combat on the plains of Kesh, ran him through with his blade after seventeen hours of battle. But the victory was... hollow, for it left him lacking his equal and opposite. The Jedi had fought with such strength, led his armies with cunning and valor, that even my master came to respect him despite their animosity and despite his nature as The Lord of Hate. So he decreed that this tomb would not be a prison and torture for a soul, but as a monument to a worthy enemy." Khem Val denied, shaking his head in amusement at the idea that anyone but his master could have defeated the powerful and skilled Jedi. Wretched slave to the Light and the Republic he might have been, but his skill as a general and a warrior could not be denied without deliberate falsehood. And a true warrior did not lie about the skills of his enemies. "It was only later that my master placed me here to defend the star map that leads to the caches of knowledge and treasures that he hid about the galaxy during his wars."
"Fascinating," she murmured in reply, visibly and genuinely intrigued by this revelation. He had to wonder what else about his master was unknown in this era, how much of his legacy had been lost or erased. By worms like Ortan Cela, no doubt, who could only make themselves great by weakening those that came before them with lies and erased history. "So Tulak Hord actually respected this Jedi enough to build him a tomb on Korriban? That's... unprecedented."
"My master was many things. Cruel, merciless, and terrible in his wrath. But he was no fool, and he understood the value of acknowledging, and respecting, worthy opposition." Khem Val would, perhaps, have sounded proud were he a member of another species. As it was, his tone probably sounded closer to matter-of-fact than anything else. "It was a lesson many Sith failed to learn, to their detriment. Only by acknowledging the threat posed by one's enemies can one defeat them."
"You know, I was expecting a different attitude from you. More slavering madness, constant threats, small words. Not philosophy." she remarked after absorbing that for a moment, sounding pleased and confused in equal measure, and he snorted.
"Were you some no-name child-sith that had stumbled across me in slavish devotion to their master's will, I would have been. And, shortly thereafter, you would have been dead and your bones my feast." he responded bluntly, seeing no purpose whatsoever in dressing up the statement of fact, tilting his head slightly to regard the crimson-skinned twi'lek slave waiting for them on the far side of the room. The twi'lek that was staring at him with wide eyes and a shuddering body. "But you are the heir to my master's general, capable and powerful. You are worthy of words, at least, for the time being. Perhaps you will still become my feast, and your master with you, but I have yet to decide."
"…well, if you're going to be that reasonable, I don't suppose you'd…oh!" the girl started, before cutting herself off as she spotted the twi'lek, her face breaking out into a bright smile, moving towards her quickly. "Vette, you're awake! That's wonderful! How do you feel?"
The new girl, 'Vette', scrambled backwards against the wall, her eyes darting between slender human woman and massive dashade warrior, looming and foreboding as he was, his arms crossed over his chest. Such reactions never ceased to amuse him. "I feel like I'm about to be eaten by a monster! Force, look at his teeth!" she squeaked, pressing herself as flat as possible against the stone. "What is that thing? And why is it following you around like a pet?"
"That 'thing' is Khem Val, ancient Sith assassin and surprisingly philosophical conversationalist, especially given he's been in stasis for the better part of two and a half thousand years." the Kallig replied dryly, offering her a hand up, before Khem Val could say or do anything in response to the affront against his dignity. "And he's not following me around like a pet. More like he's deciding whether or not to kill and messily devour me for waking him up and giving him some bad news. Better hope I live up to the hype, huh?"
"How wonderfully reassuring, thank you." Vette muttered, but she took the Kallig's hand and allowed the little Sith to help her to her feet. A strange display towards a slave, and an alien at that, but then the General Kallig had been much the same in his own time. "So we went from one life-threatening situation to another. Perfect, fantastic. Why not. I don't suppose we get to go back to the Academy now? I would love to be back at the Academy now."
"Oh, I didn't realize you liked being naked and locked in a cage so much. I'll keep that in mind once I make you mine, shall I?" Kallig remarked, grinning as Vette's cheeked darkened several shades, towards purple, and gave what could only be described as a pout in response. A pout that did nothing to dissuade the human half of the pair from continuing. "Mind you, I have to get you away from Baras first, but it's a process. Are you fit to stand?"
"I'm fit to fight if I need to. Just, uh, don't expect me to be much of a markswoman, alright stud? Spray and pray is the best you're going to get, and I'm not going to be running any marathons either. Even with stims." was the response, the last with a grimace and a gentle prodding of the ribs to illustrate what she was talking about.
"Fair enough, don't worry about it." Kallig said soothingly, gently patting one bare and tattooed shoulder. "Just leave the terentatek to Khem Val and I, alright?"
"Thanks, stud…wait, the fucking what?"