Adascopolis

Abomination. How quaint. His guest had not even been here for long, and yet the insults were already flying. Had this man been someone else, someone weaker in both legacy and stature, Belial would’ve pulped his flesh and tore out his very soul. Instead, the Dark Lord had simply chosen not to follow through with the burning desire surging through his veins. Though, as the fleeting moment of irritation had passed, the warrior scholar began to weigh his options ever so carefully. Why ruin a good discussion and an excellency of a freshly brewed pot of tea, over the sour notions of a rude visitor? It would fare well for the both of them, he wagered, should this slight be overlooked for the sake of courtesy.

Pushing the thought from his mind, and tilting his head to acknowledge the shade lingering behind him, Belial let the visage of a playful grin slip through the shadows of his cowl.

“Sophistication comes in many forms, Elder One. I, though twisted in your aged eyes, wanted this to be cordial despite our more… darker natures.” Turning his gaze back towards the spread before him, Belial gestured for his guest to take his place across from the Juggernaut.

“Please, take a seat.”

Without waiting for the man behind him to shift, the ‘Abomination’ lifted the boiled pot of water from the table and poured the blended emerald solution into an ornate ceramic bowl. As the billowing contrails of steam rose into the surroundings of this frozen wasteland, the Dark Lord thought he had heard something echoing into the distance. A sound so minute that had he not been focusing upon pouring his guest’s portion of tea, he would’ve missed it. It sounded hauntingly similar to the whimpers of a mewling wretch meeting his end with enforced silence.

His grin widened at that notion, as it meant everything had so far gone exactly to plan.

After he had filled the ceramic bowl with the contents from the blackened metal pot, Belial’s hands deftly moved towards his own cup and greedily bathed it’s surface in boiling water. Once it had been filled to the brim, he placed the kettle down betwixt the two, ensuring that his polar opposite would not have to extend his reach should he desire more. However, as he had taken his own dish to his lips, he noted that his guest had yet to taste his newest creation. A shame on all accounts, he thought to himself as he was sure that a man as venerable as him would appreciate a brew such as this. Like the barbed insult that had come and gone, Belial simply chalked this up to uncertainty. Were their roles reversed, he would have been hesitant in imbibing a freshly brewed pot of liquid - atleast until the host himself had taken a mouthful. One could never be too cautious these days, as Sith fought amongst Sith, the aura of betrayal hung heavy upon any whom bore that dark and insidious mantle.

Letting his lips peel back into a satisfied smirk, the dark titan downed the contents of the cup in a single motion. It was better than he expected, considering the ingredients that he had chosen. The peated flavour garnered from the ashes of a now dying world, resonated throughout his entire body - giving life to the suffering his father had inflicted to these people and their technological avarice. Personified irony had become the next thing his mind had deconstructed from this blend, as a technological advance of another sort sought to enhance the flavour assault his tastebuds. He knew it’s alchemical formulae off by heart, thanks to that wretch of a sire screaming it to him in the depths of his own twisted soul, yet had not the pleasure of tasting it for himself. It wasn’t poison, no, it was something entirely different all together. Drear and Scarbrous were fools not to see what was before them in their pursuits for immortality. Vitiate had been oh so close to unlocking the secret for himself, but his own pride and ignorance had denied him what he truly craved.

Lowering his bowl to rest upon the plating he had set out some time before, Belial stared into the depths of his Guests eyes. While he had already decided not to waste his energy fighting this man, the Dark Lord assured himself that commenting on his choice not to partake in his beverage would’ve followed the same route. No use wasting time on trivial matters. The Force, and the galaxy thereafter spare little for those that carelessly spend it’s gifts. Instead, he let his satisfied smirk slowly curl into a confident, face warping smile.

“Like the many Sith before me, I seek a great many things. Power; Wealth; Knowledge; A Cabal of equals; or perhaps an Empire of my own. It comes with the territory of life, to crave our dreams. Unlike the Jedi, those that don our mantle have the power to pursue them.” He paused for a moment to cast his gaze out into the distance, and listened to the echos of the destruction his father had wrought - before looking to the wounds caused by his birth. “Long have I dwelled upon the tides of the empyrean, living in a world much like the one we now reside. It’s empty and devoid of colour - save the emotive forces given form by those that live upon this side of the veil.” Turning his eyes back to the Lord Jud’dayus, Belial carried on with the point of all this. “Thus spearing to the heart of the matter, I have asked you here in search of a confirmation of sorts. When my birth had sundered this world, my memory of the events that had transpired before are hazy. Tell me of the Empires that had come before, and of the man named Ahriman.”

“There have,” The Dark Lord Began, “Without a doubt, been many Empires whose lifetime spanned my period of laborious birth. Some, newly risen from the ashes of tragedy, whilst others were formed to chase after the petulant dream of Order and Peace. We both know there can be no such thing, as the tides of the realm beyond are always in flux - ever changing within this web of lies we call reality.” He paused for a moment to cast his gaze out into the wastelands beyond his newly claimed ruin of a manse and let his mind reflect upon the primordial truth that broiled unseen before their very eyes. “That being said, such an impossible Utopia sounds exquisite in comparison to what we bare witness to now. The Ruination of a legacy is never easy, and everyone dies badly.” He scoffed then, “One who seeks to die a Heroic death, will find himself wanting once his spirit ‘becomes one with the Force.’ He will find himself at the mercy of beings such as us, who’ve mastered the darkest mysterious of this arcanum that bonds us all together. It makes me wonder why they even try to build civilizations, when more often than not, more powerful beings such as we will come along and stamp out their insignificant lives like the Ants they are.”

Returning his eyes to match those of his Guest, Belial offered a curt smile - despite the melancholic tone hinting his every word. “Never the less, that brings me back to why I asked of these Empires. From what remained of the one known as Arcanus Sunstrider, I was able to divine the existence of an Empire of our Kind. One ruled by someone I believe you know almost too well. Men with power are often attracted to one another, and it’s unlikely that you sat back and watched him from a distance.” His shrouded smile faded, so too did his morose tongue, overtaken by the seriousness of an inquisitive mind. “Tell me of this man, and how he managed to sway so many to his banner on that blighted world of Korriban, before vanishing into the nether without a trace.”

When the time had come to speak of the man that labelled himself his father, Belial felt a sour sensation coat his tongue. If it were his choice, he would’ve scattered the ashes of his supposed father figure, and pissed on whatever remained. The man was weak to be caught off guard when the Queen of this world had come for him, dragging that whelp of a boy behind her. He deserved whatever his brothers and sisters were doing to him in the void between realities, and more if such a thing were possible. “As for that bloated fool Ahriman, I desire to know more of him. He died horribly upon this very world, his soul stripped from his very being and devoured by my Kin and I. Much of his memories clash with the ones within this body, however as you’ve met this man in person, I would appreciate anything you had on him.”

Belial lifted his cup from the table, downing the now unpleasant flavoured liquid in a swift and smooth manner. In the future, should he ever steep another pot of ash tea, he would remember to drink it while both the roiling storm of emotions within were fresh, and the vitality of the water was still apparent with billowing steam. The remaining tea had no doubt spoiled, much to the disappointment of the Dark Lord, so when his thirst returned he avoided the brew like the Rakghoul plague. Instead, he let the concerns of his physical being transcend into the depths of his conscious mind, letting his thirst evolve into a craving for knowledge. Though, he knew that in the presence of one who haunted the shadows of this side of the planar shifts for longer than many men had ever dreamed off, revealing his desires to garner the answers he sought could be a dangerous ordeal. It would’ve been used against him, and this minuscule conclave would’ve been ruined - despite all the efforts Belial had put forth into creating this opportunity.

“He was a sniveling bastard that kept to himself, I’m sure, but we all know that when the Apocolypse comes for us, who we really are - shines through the structured lies.” The warrior scholar chuckled then. Not because he had used a word spoken ever so softly by the man sitting opposite him, but because he was certain it pertained a semblance of meaning to the Lord Jud’dayus. Could it be that he was not referring to the End Times, as foretold by his true father the Primordial Annihilator? And that this word had been the moniker of one who wronged the being sitting before him? He wasn’t sure, and in truth it didn’t matter. For there were bigger things that required his attention.

“There’s no use in my attempts to dance around the subject. It ruined my cup of tea. Ahriman may have been a pathetic whelp unfit to lick the ground upon which we Gods tread, but he had his uses. Like you, he was a collector of sorts. Like you, he found himself a world upon which to haunt, and build his vast collection of trinkets. I’ve asked you here today, not only to talk about this so called Sith’ari Emperor but to see if you knew - Or came across - that worthless Scavengers lair. He has something I want and did very well in hiding it from my ethereal gaze.”

Kel’Al knew every inch of the Guardian Temple by heart. Or at least, he thought that he did. What he saw before him today made him question how this could be the same place he had once known so well. It took him a good twenty minutes to find anything recognizable enough to orient himself among the ruins, and even then, the ruined tile floor of a side hallway was several feet from where it should have been. But now he had a landmark, and from there, he picked carefully over the rubble, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling, as he made his way toward where the subterranean starfighter hangars had been.

The primary hangar had been directly where the rift valley was now, but there had once been a secondary hangar, located deeper into the ground and to one side of the Temple, used for long term storage of spacecraft, and the Jedi now stood directly over where that hangar should have been. The entrance was nowhere to be seen, buried under the ruins of the upper levels of the temple, with great slabs of stone lying all scattered about like a forgotten deck of sabaac cards, liberally salted with smaller pieces of debris, but Kel knew it had to be there. The only question was whether it was still usable. Even if the roof were intact, the chances were that it had been completely filled in with debris.

“Over there.” Kel said to R2-D7, directing the droid’s scanners. “About ten or twelve feet to my left, and straight down. There should be a large subterranean void.”

The droid tootled and hooted skeptically, but he ran his scanners back and forth across the indicated area. The Corellian caught his breath while he waited, hands falling to his side as he breathed heavily, and began to notice for the first time just how bad the crisp, cold air here smelled. It reeked of rotting organic material, and stone dust, and smoke, and death.

After a moment, Sev gave an excited whoop, and began rocking back and forth, chattering loudly in binary. I found it, I found it. It’s still there.

Kel grinned. Finally some good news on this awful day. “Is it stable?” He queried.

Sev hooted the affirmative, and illuminated an outline on the (bumpy) ground, about two hundred feet wide and a thousand feet long. The far end was cut off short, close to where the rift in the planet had been torn. Projecting a second image over the first, the R2 unit outlined a smaller box at one end: the entrance from the sublevel up to the Temple.

“Ok, good job. Now stand back.” As soon as the droid was clear, the young Jedi Master sat down on an overturned pillar and closed his eyes, focusing on the stone slabs within the outlined entrance box, and identifying the topmost one in his mind’s eye. Drawing on the Force, he lifted the half-ton piece of ruin and slid it away from the entrance, then began on the next stone. It helped to have something to do, especially something physically demanding and mentally taxing, to take his mind off of everything that he had lost.

It was hot, dusty work, and the added pain of the dead planet made the extended use of the Force ten times as stressful as it might have otherwise been, but after a long two hours, Kel was rewarded with a dark, rectangular shaft leading into the depths of the rock. There was nothing left of the lift except the tracks on the outer walls.

Taking a glowrod from his pocket, Kel tossed it into the hole, and it landed about 30 feet beneath, on a solid, almost clean section of duracrete tarmac. Sev moaned, even before his master could make a silent gesture of “you first,” but the droid knew what was expected, and dropped into the hole, using the rocket boosters on his stubby legs to break his fall. Reaching the bottom, he scanned the roof and the walls thoroughly, testing their integrity, then gave a reassuring whoop to the Corellian waiting above ground.

Taking a deep breath, Kel lowered himself into the hole until he was dangling by his fingertips from the rim of the ruined lift shaft, then let go, dropping to the tarmac below, and rolling into his fall as he used a mixture of the Force force and his agility training to land (relatively) safely. The only casualty was a skinned elbow, which the Jedi couldn't even feel at this point.

And so there they were. It was basically little more than a large, rectangular, man-made cave within the ruins, but it would protect them from the weather for the night. There was no power, and thus no lighting. The fuel supplies looked as if they had all caught fire and burned, which had also melted a fair piece of the equipment on hand, and the remains were just some minor tools scattered about on the floor as if the mechanics had abandoned their posts in great haste.

Having located temporary shelter for himself and his droid, and hidden his starfighter from all but the most direct observations, Kel’Al began to unpack the gear he had brought. First was the communications equipment. He needed to know if there was any news from home, such as updates on the numerous reports he had recently requested from various military sources, or the search for the missing Adi Matango.

Sure enough, there was a report waiting for him from an old mercenary contact in the Unknown Regions. He had given the man the coordinates that Master Tuhlute had provided, and asked that they be investigated. However, true to his word to his fellow Jedi, he had also included the explicit warning that the missing starship was very dangerous and volatile, and not to approach it under any circumstances, but rather to call Kel’Al and wait for the Jedi to come and assist with its safe recovery. The Jedi had insinuated that he did not want his mercenary friend to lose any men on his behalf. The errand was not worth the loss of life. It was true, from a certain point of view, although the danger was not at all what the mercenary might have imagined. The true danger would have been from the technology falling into the wrong hands.

Master Raganella, I regret to inform you that one of our patrol boats visited the coordinates you provided, and could find no sign of your missing starship. We could not even find any vapor or radiation trails that might indicate a path of travel, and none of the logs from our sentries in the area recorded a craft that could match your missing vessel, either. I would be happy to send you visible confirmation of our failures if you wish, but otherwise, we will deduct the agreed fee from your account and consider this job completed.

So that was that, then. The coordinates were a bust. Equally disappointing, there was no word from Coruscant on any of the ongoing Jedi and Senate investigations at the Republic capital. There was not even anything from his own Senator, Koronov, or from his contacts at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Kel let out a long sigh, and tossed his datapad aside. Sitting down against a ruined wall, he stared into the darkness, his own soul feeling just as lost and empty as the desolate hangar.

Kel'Al may have been all alone in a dark hole in the ground, on a depopulated planet, lying against a wall, asleep in the cold depths of what had once been the Guardian Temple, but even here, there was no peace to be found for long. He slept soundly, exhausted from the trauma of the day, but after only 4 or 5 hours, he was awakened from a deep sleep by his communications datapad. This time, the message arrived on conventional Jedi channels, and not via the prototype Starnet, but it turned out to be of equal importance. Roused from his sleep, Kel'Al scrolled through the detention order in surprise and consternation.


The Corellian hoped that Monte had received the same message, because this could compromise everything his fellow Jedi was planning in order to bring in Adi Matango quietly and peacefully, without endangering the Jedi or Adi's companions. As he read, he worried what, if anything, he should do in response. He could not ask Master Rawkill to rescind the order without revealing what was really going on and breaking Tuhlute's trust. Worst case, he could blow Monte's cover, and get him killed. And there was also a question of tactics. Rawkill's reaction seemed impatient. Rogue Force users needed a delicate hand if they were to be brought into the Light. It seemed heavy-handed, unless the Master knew more than he had said. "Rawkill knows something." Kel murmurred to himself. "But what?" There really wasn't an obvious answer. And the Corellian didn't know where Adi was, so there was little he could do except wait ... and maybe warn Tuhlute that he was running out of time.

Kel switched his datapad over to Starnet, but before he could begin a message, Monte beat him to it.


Well, then. That gave Kel something actionable. Monte had said he was travelling with Adi, and now he had asked Kel to meet him on Carida. That could only mean that Adi either already was, or soon would be, on Carida. With such a clear invitation, the Corellian realized what he had to do. He had to get to Adi before anyone else did, and talk reason to him. If Adi remembered anything of his past, he would not attack Kel on sight, and if he did, then he wasn't Adi anymore, and Kel would destroy him.

"Sev." He said, surprising himself at how loud his own voice sounded. "Go prep my starfighter. We're leaving." The droid hooted something unprintable and derisive, but when his Master did not respond, the droid creaked to life, and disappeared from sight into the darkness. 

The only problem was what to do about Arkania, and how to keep his other project moving forward. Exiting Starnet, Kel'Al opened a direct line to the Jedi Academy on Corellia, and sent a brief message to Theomiir Starstrider, his sister's former student and one of the Knights Kel'Al trusted to keep secrets, no matter who asked. Knight Starstrider, I need you to join me on Arkania right away. I am attaching initial data on my recon of the Guardian Temple. I must warn you, this is a place of pain, and death. But I need your help.