A Den Of Hate Part 4

Four days later...

Kono wiped nervous sweat from his brow as he ran through the darkened caves, fleeing a pack of ravenous shyrack. Purple light from his active lightsabre lit the way for him as he tore across the tunnels, hearing the shrieks and cries of the pursuing shyrack uncomfortably close behind. The smell of the winged predators permeated the dank underground cavity in which they made their nests. Kono had walked into the middle of one of the larger ones.

The beasts by themselves posed little threat to him, but in large packs such as these he knew he would be hard pressed to hold them all off. Shyrack attacked with a vicious ferocity having regard for their own well-being, especially when protecting their nests, and in sufficient numbers could easily swamp even a skilled lightsabre-wielder. He had to find a way to thin them off, break the horde into a manageable stream that could be exterminated with comparable ease.

He consulted the mental map of the caves he had formed when he entered through the opening at the bottom of the mountains. The sight of a familiar rock formation clicked with the information in his memory and a plan sprang to life.

Ahead was a turn-off, a side-opening with a narrow entrance; it would do perfectly. Robes flying, Kono swerved to the side and leapt into the air, planting his feet at the side of the opening and catapulting himself off the rock face to sail into the side-cavern. He tumbled to the ground and scrambled to his feet, holding his sabre out in front of him as milliseconds ticked by waiting for the shyrack to catch up.

The sounds of dozens of wings flapping, fanged mouths snapping, and feral hunting cries filled the passage as the pack loomed nearer. Time slowed to a crawl. Kono listened to the sound of his own panting, felt each individual drop of sweat trickling down his face and neck, tensed every muscle of his sabre hand.

In merely a moment, the tables would turn. The attack would be his.

A screeching shyrack reached the opening. With its sensitive scent organs it located Kono standing before it in less than a second. It swooped down to attack, others of its kind following as it dove for Kono with outstretched talons.

Kono's sabre hummed, and a pair of shyrack wings fell severed to the floor of the cavern.

More of the ghastly predators lunged at him.

He was fully committed now. He had the advantage, and he was finished running. Kono gave himself over to his instincts and let them guide through the furious motions of the fight for one's life.

His violet lightsabre swung in tremendous arcs, cutting through many shyrack in single sweeps. It came down in swift, vicious chops to eliminate injured beasts that lay on the ground, attempting to gnaw at his legs. Blasts of compressed Force energy knocked the creatures against the stone walls, stunning them.

Shyrack corpses piled up at Kono's feet. Smoking, charred, and dismembered wings and pieces of the beasts were strewn everywhere as the horde came relentlessly at him, the narrow opening squeezing their numbers into ineffectual groups which he easily dispatched. The cavern began to fill with the stench of shyrack viscera as it spilled from the carcasses on the floor.

The numbers of shyrack that flew through the opening became less and less until they were little more than a trickle. Finally the last of the shyrack fell beneath Kono's lightsabre and there came no others; the pack had been exterminated. He switched off his lightsabre and the cave plunged into blackness and silence.

A few minutes passed and he began to hear faint voices; undoubtedly they were the voices of his very targets, come to investigate the screeching shyrack and pervading stench.

The raid of another Sith student's room had turned up an interesting bit of information regarding a group of cadets who had refused to execute some prisoners. Those Sith were wanted dead by the Academy Master and much prestige would be granted to the one who killed them. Apparently the student whose room Kono broke into had turned up a lead on their whereabouts. Kono subsequently killed him for this information and took up the hunt on his own.

He had tracked the rogue Sith down the mountains and found the entrance to the shyrack cave where the dead Sith suspected they were hiding out. The shyrack were their early warning system for detecting intruders, as Kono had discovered. They had nests all over the place and stumbling into one by accident was almost impossible to avoid. They didn't know that they had just been reeled in by their own trap.

Kono had them now.

He stowed his lightsabre at his belt and brought to hand two exotic blades that he clipped to his wrists. They were swivel-hinged on the wrist clasp so they could easily be used for slashing and cutting while keeping the hands free. It was his own design, and they worked into his unique fighting style perfectly. Also their traditional steel edges allowed for a more visceral feel in a fight than did the lightsabre.

Kono twirled his wrist-blades experimentally and held them to his sides, waiting for the voices to come nearer. As a light began progressing through the tunnel towards him he hugged the rock wall and cast his cloak over as much of himself as possible, to lower his visibility and preserve the key element of surprise.

The advancing glow illuminated four figures wearing dirty gray Sith uniforms. One of them held a glow panel that lit their way. Kono listened to their anxious voices as they crept closer to the scene of the carnage where he waited for them, concealed in plain sight.

"--so many of them this time. I don't think whoever it was could possibly have killed them all."

"Well, I don't think it's good to assume anything at this point, Jarn."

"Did you hear them screeching, Tyra? It must have been an entire pack!"

"Keep your voice down! Sounds travel a long way in these caves."

"Well, all I'm saying is--oh, kek."

Kono saw them arrive at the foot of the first mound of gore that was strewn over the floor of the tunnel. They could see the blood spattered walls and shyrack pieces all over. But they did not see Kono as he extended his hand towards the man carrying the glow panel. Through the Force, he tugged it from the man's grasp and in an instant smothered its light with his hand.

The cave plunged back into blackness and the four Sith raised their voices in panic. There was going to be no escape for them now.

Kono could see them through the Force as clear as if the tunnel had been lit by starship lights. They were fumbling about in the dark for the lightsabres at their belts, but their actions took precious seconds; seconds they did not have. Taking a single breath, Kono flipped his wrists, swinging the two blades so their points reached down his arms toward his elbows and jumped away from the wall, reaching his arms for the nearest two throats.

All in one instant, Kono's wrist blades sliced the necks of the closest two Sith students, spraying arterial blood all over the walls, and the other Sith grasped their lightsabres and activated twin red beams. In the sudden light, they glimpsed a flash of movement before them and saw their two comrades fall to the floor gushing blood that was bleached colorless in the red glow of the lightsabres. They whirled about looking for their assailant, but found nothing. Kono had melted back up against the wall, his blades dripping sanguine liquid onto the black robes against which they were held.

Kono exhaled silently as he watched the two remaining Sith - a dark-skinned human woman and green-hued Twi'lek man - look about fearfully, trying in vain to find the attacker who stood right before them. He let another second tick by, and they made the mistake of turning their backs on him; a mistake they were unaware of making.

He took a breath, inhaling sharply to make himself known as he lunged at them.

The dark-skinned woman whipped around to see him flying at them and gave the Twi'lek a lightning-quick shove. She tried to bring her lightsabre to bear but Kono was faster, slicing open her sabre hand and causing her to drop the weapon. She cried out in pain and screamed at the Twi'lek to escape as Kono brought his other wrist blade into play by stabbing clear through the shoulder. Obeying his friend's command, the Twi'lek took off.

Kono grunted as he drove the second blade through the woman's other shoulder and gave a mighty upward heave, the razor-sharp blades severing both shoulders from her collar-bone. She screamed again and crumpled to the floor as blood erupted from the hideous wounds.

Looking up, Kono saw the Twi'lek's red lightsabre glowing in the distance farther down the tunnel. He took off in a sprint after the fleeing Sith. If there were any others besides these, the Twi'lek was going to lead him straight to them.

<>

Kono trudged back up the mountain slope some hours later, his robes stained and carrying six red-soaked medallions by the chains; one taken from each rogue Sith he had slain. Every one of them had deserved their fate. In the end, their mercy had been the ultimate cruelty; the prisoners they had spared were instead tortured to death while the rogue students escaped.

Uthar would be pleased, and Kono was brought one step closer to his goals.

The Sith Soldiers standing guard at the entrance took one look at him, the black robes and his grisly trophies, and opened the doors hastily for him. Just inside waited another Sith student, a young man looking to be no more than nineteen years old. He had a perpetual scowl in his blue eyes and a rich carpet of dark brown hair. He glared furiously at Kono.

"You! Kono! Just who do you think you are?" He demanded.

"The last person to say that to me ended up on his ass and lost what little respect I might ever have held for him," Kono forewarned the kid.

"I don't care about your respect! What makes you think the rest of us are just going to sit back and let you steal the show?" He spat.

"You mean besides the fact that that's exactly what's been happening?" Kono's quick turnaround flustered the teenager.

"Well, no more!" The kid drew a lightsabre. "I'm sick of watching you go unchallenged, so I'm challenging you now. Come on, fight me. Or are you too full of yourself to respond to a confrontation that you didn't instigate?"

Kono's lightsabre was out in a flash. "If you wish to fight, then let us begin." He held the medallions in one clenched fist and tapped the switch on the lightsabre held in his other hand, bringing the purple blade to bear. The young Sith eagerly ignited his red sabre and sprang forward. With a single-handed block, Kono deflected the Sith's lightsabre and launched himself into a furious single-handed fight.

He could feel the Sith's uncontrollable anger boiling forth in his every move; he recklessly cast his blade about in ferocious swings and swift chops. The Sith gave no thought to strategy, only to the next swing of his sabre. Parrying his attacks was more taxing than Kono had initially expected; a rare underestimation on his part. Still, even with one hand occupied, Kono was able to hold him off without undue difficulty.

To his credit, when the Sith realized he bitten off more than he could chew, he only fought harder, straining to breach Kono's seamless defense. No matter where he struck, Kono's blade deflected his blow, and turned the attack back on him. The Sith gritted his teeth and lashed out with a blast of Force energy from his hand--which Kono anticipated perfectly and nullified with a blast from his own hand.

The Sith's eyes widened as he finally began to fathom just how powerful Kono was.

His realization cost him a split second, and Kono flowed through his guard. In his moment of hesitation, the Sith felt Kono bring a blow upon his lightsabre at an unexpected angle with far more force than he expected. The red sabre spun out of his grasp, leaving him helpless before Kono.

Kono held the Sith at sabre-point, the medallions still dangling from his free hand.

"You look just like that scum Revan," the Sith spat contemptuously. "Go ahead, kill me. I don't care."

"What's your name?" Kono asked, instead of doing as the Sith said.

"Dustil O--just Dustil," he said, faltering, wondering why he wasn't dead yet.

Dustil Onasi. That was what he had been about to say. He might have stopped his voice short, but his thoughts betrayed him as easily as would a flashing neon sign. This was unexpected, but Kono was pleased by the surprise.

"How did I beat you, Dustil?"

Dustil was fully perplexed now.

"What?"

"I asked how I beat you."

"You're stronger than me. I thought you'd made it obvious," he said with irritation.

Kono shook his head in disapproval. "No, I beat you because you because I kept my head. You, on the other hand, thought that if you drew on blind anger you would gain the strength to win."

"You're too ominous to be spouting that Jedi-speak," Dustil quipped.

"I don't think you're in a position to judge that," Kono reminded him. "You've been taught that anger gives you strength, but the truth is you have no idea how to use the strength it gives you. You are ignorant of the true power of emotion; you believe that if you let yourself be consumed by it you will be better for it. To the contrary, it has only weakened you. Instead of aiding you, your unquenchable anger born of losing your home planet of Telos has stripped away your ability to think rationally."

Dustil flinched. "How can you possibly know I'm from Telos?" He demanded.

"You haven't bothered to shield your thoughts. I saw right through your deception. You are Dustil Onasi, son of Carth Onasi. I served with your father for a time; I know all about you," Kono answered. "He's dead now, by the way. His ship got shot down over Taris before the bombardment."

"Do you want me to cry for my dad, is that it? News flash: I. Don't. Care. He abandoned us on Telos and I got captured. It's his fault mother died," Dustil ranted.

"Well now he's dead. And you have absolutely no idea what to do with your anger, that anger at him you built up all these years. And so it bleeds through in everything you do. You think it makes you stronger but it makes you weaker; feeds you with a pathetic imitation of power that you embrace anyway."

"Just kill me. Don't bore me to death with your lectures."

"No."

Dustil was indignant. "What do you mean no?"

"If not for your untrained anger, you could be more powerful than most of the students in this place. I respect such potential." Kono deactivated his lightsabre. "You are no match for me, and if you challenge me again I will kill you. But I think you know that there is much you could learn from me, much I could teach you. Not the least of which things is learning to use anger properly. After all, most Sith rise through the ranks by forming alliances with other, more powerful individuals."

Dustil's glower cooled. "I suppose I see your point. What is it you want me for?"

"I have plans, plans I suspect you would want to be included in. Kill Lashowe for me and I will be willing to discuss them with you further," Kono elaborated.

"Lashowe? The blond?"

"That's the one."

Dustil grinned. "How do you want it done?"

"However you so desire. Kill her in a fair fight, murder her in her bed; I don't really care as long as the other students can tell it was you who did it. You've been here a long time and not raised enough attention to yourself. Now it's time to start making yourself known," Kono admonished.

"Alright, Kono, I'll do things your way. But you'd better hold up your end."

Kono reached out and drew Dustil's fallen lightsabre into his hand. He handed the hilt to the young Sith.

"Lesson one: Never lose your lightsabre; this weapon is your life."

<>

Kono returned to his quarters after presenting the six bloody medallions to Uthar. Uthar had been impressed by his execution of the rogue Sith who had escaped their punishment, and Kono was in a good mood; expecting Juhani to have finished her task and be waiting for him.

She wasn't.

Canderous and HK-47 loitered around in his quarters, idly checking their armaments, but Juhani was absent.

"Where's Juhani?" Kono demanded.

Canderous scratched his head. "The Cathar? I haven't seen her since this morning. She came by to do her sleep-standing thing for an hour and then took off for that tomb you mentioned," Canderous replied.

"I've been gone for two days, Canderous. She was supposed to have done that yesterday. What was she doing that took up a whole day?"

The Mandalorian shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Kono. "Well, she specifically asked me not to tell you, but I think she found an old boyfriend."

Kono sighed in helpless frustration. He'd known there was a possibility things could go wrong while he was gone and had been wary of sending Juhani off on her own in the first place. The last thing he needed right now was for Juhani to have an epiphany and revert back to the narrow views enforced by the Jedi Council. Undue all his work with her.

There was nothing he could do about that right now. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't spare the time to set Juhani straight; there were other things he needed to take care of.

"Ok, Canderous, HK, I need you two to go help Juhani; she should have been finished with her task by now regardless, so something must have happened. I have things of my own to take care of, so I'm counting on you two," Kono told them.

HK-47 eagerly twirled his blaster pistols.

<>

They were all around her. Lethal weapons and sensor nodes glowing in the darkness of the catacombs, the ancient two-legged destroyer droids stalked her with deadly purpose. The tomb was filled with them, they lurked around every bend of the winding tunnels and behind every sealed door.

Juhani parried dozens of blaster bolts with her blue lightsabre as she fended off six of the droids at once. By themselves, even the toughest battle droid was no match for an adequately-trained Jedi like her, but these droids came in packs and attacked with cold efficiency. Merely the act of dodging and blocking their shots was tiring, for their were so many.

A crumbling stone column at one of the walls beside her attackers offered Juhani a rare advantage. Reaching out with the Force, she toppled it over. It fell heavily and crashed into three of the attacking droids, crushing them. Pressing her advantage, she leapt at the three that remained in front her, deflecting two blaster bolts directly back at them and destroying one outright. She scythed her lightsabre in an arc and cut a second droid's blaster in half. Whirling her body, Juhani brought her blade about and sliced through the third droid's head.

And then she took off running again, the sounds of maniacal laughter still ringing in her ears.

Kono had sent her into the tomb of Sith Lord Tulak Hord to find a Sith tablet that Uthar's last master, Jorak Uln, had hidden away; he had it on good authority that it was inside the tomb. Neither he nor she had counted on someone activating the tomb's old guard droids and turning the place into a death trap. All the exit shafts sealed themselves off and shut her in with the battle droids, leaving her to fight for her life. Juhani had heard a crazed laugh when the doors slammed shut; a laugh that seemed to follow her wherever she went in the dark passages of the tomb.

The tunnels were laid out like a vast maze in the mountainside, dozens of passages branched off in every direction; each with at least two of the destroyer droids and none with a way out. They brought Juhani around in circles and into dead ends in her never-ending flight.

She'd been trapped inside the tomb for close to twelve hours, and even Force-assisted adrenaline couldn't keep her body going for much longer. Her legs stung from the effort of her sprints, her reaction times were slowed considerably, presenting the very potent danger of being overpowered by the superior numbers of her attackers. Worst of all, she was beginning to trouble thinking clearly. If she couldn't find a way out of the tomb soon, she probably never would.

A door slid open to Juhani's left.

Sliding on smooth stone floor, she barreled into the new passageway without thinking. Too late, her senses alerted her to a new danger; toxic gas.

She had time to cough once at the noxious fumes before she passed out.

<>

The entrance to the tomb of Ajunta Pall loomed on the mountainside in the Valley of the Dark Lords. Not since the tomb was uncovered had a single Sith student gone in and returned; all disappeared into the dark abyss of the Sith Lord's resting place. Fifty-seven students and potentials had tried venturing into the tomb and each one of them vanished, never to be seen again.

According to Sith texts, Ajunta Pall's legendary sword was buried with him. It was a powerful artifact of the ancient Sith, and Master Uthar continually promised great rewards to the one able to retrieve it from the deadly tomb. But none ever had.

Kono had little time to reflect on the tomb's fatal reputation; if there was a good chance Ajunta Pall's sword lay within, he had to enter. It would bring him one step closer to entering the tomb of Naga Sadow and finding the Star Map, as well as further his private pact with Yuthura.

The Sith students and archaeologists who scurried about the outside of the tomb's entrance scattered when they saw him approaching with obvious intent. They did not want to be around when the tomb swallowed someone else. Kono ignored them, as they posed no threat, and instead focused his strength on repelling the seductive waves of dark-side energy that flowed from the mouth of the tomb, eager to dominate and destroy his mind.

It would be so easy for him to simply let go and allow the dark side of the Force to inundate him. Its promises were so enormously compelling and intense that he had to consciously focus on retaining his own thoughts. Tantalizing glimpses of vast powers beyond his imagining played at his mind. He furiously worked to shut them out, to keep the deceptive visions of omnipotence from eating away at his rational thoughts.

This was more than simply the call of the dark side, Kono realized, it was an invisible trap. A ward of the tomb that destroyed all who came to enter. One designed specifically to ensnare Jedi.

He resisted the almost overwhelming urge to surrender his will to the dark side, held an iron grip on his control over his power. This was that in which so many Sith failed; they turned themselves into willing slaves of the power they coveted.

With tremendous strength, Kono forced his way past the intangible barriers guarding the tomb and crossed the threshold with his power, mind, and sanity intact.

The dark yawning chasm of the tomb stretched out in front of him, beckoning. Kono proceeded cautiously, warily watching the deep shadows that lay before him as the light of Korriban's surface faded. Choosing to forgo the use of a glow-panel, Kono opened his mind to his Force perceptions, allowing them to illuminate the path ahead brighter than would a full-noon sun. The light in the tunnel around him eventually gave way to utter darkness as he continued onward into the depths of the tomb.

There were almost no side-passages off of the main hallway, the tomb consisted mainly of the single tunnel; driving ever onward into the mountain. The tunnel itself was all but bare, nothing besides the occasional fallen block from the ceiling marred the otherwise empty passage. Dust lay all about, only disturbed in the center of walkway by dozens of footprints; most settled over with their own layers.

Kono began to wonder why the ancient Sith had seen fit to build Ajunta Pall's tomb so far into the mountains. He felt as if he had been walking for over an hour, and still there was no sign of the actual burial chamber where the Dark Lord was entombed.

Suddenly, his senses pinged with alarm. Ahead lay a human corpse not two weeks old. Due to the amount of damage it looked to have sustained, it was impossible to tell whether it was a male or female body. Its arms and legs were strewn across the floor as if it had been struck down whilst running for escape. Long trails of blood stains reached farther back into the gloom.

Kono stopped and scrutinized the corpse. The typical gray jumpsuit the corpse wore was slashed and torn in dozens of places and stained with long-dried blood. What remained of its face was pressed to the floor, advanced lividity having turned the dead flesh yellow and purple as decay did its slow work.

Something about the corpse didn't feel right. Kono sensed imminent danger from an indeterminate source.

His Force perception suddenly went blind. Instinct took over.

Lightning-quick reflexes brought his lightsabre to hand in less than a second. The purple blade shot forth from the hilt only a moment later, bathing the tunnel in violet light. Kono stared in disbelief as the cadaver in front of him staggered to its feet, emitting a chilling wail.

Standing erect, shriveled entrails spilling from lacerations and deep gashes in its chest, the corpse hurled itself at Kono. He ducked under its wild leap and neatly took off its head with a swipe of his sabre. Horrifyingly, losing its head did little to discourage his undead attacker; it merely picked itself back up off the floor and came at him again. Kono kept his irrational fear firmly in check as he swiftly chopped off the corpse's arms, then sliced the remaining chunk of rotting flesh apart.

As the pieces fell to the ground, a ghostly form coalesced over the remains. The shimmering figure floated for a moment, glaring at Kono with hollow eyes, then shrieked in indignation and vanished back into the darkness ahead. Kono had little time for reflective thought as another animate corpse shambled into the ring of light cast by his lightsabre. This one carried a cortosis-strengthened sword in one hand.

Kono charged ahead at the oncoming enemy, grinning with anticipation. He was almost pleased when the shuffling corpse blocked his first strike. Its strength was surprising, considering the amount of decomposition that had taken place; the phantom muscles of its host powering the decaying limbs. Kono was disturbed by the way in which it fought. Purpose, skill, and experience was behind every stroke of the sword the corpse threw at him. Devoting his efforts to parrying his opponent's attacks, Kono could not spare the time to think on what forces could be arraying the bodies of the dead Sith against him.

The stench of rotting flesh was all around as Kono dueled with the long-dead Sith and the ghost possessing it. Sword struck lightsabre, lightsabre slashed decayed flesh, wild deflections sent sparks flying against the walls. Neither combatant could gain the upper hand; Kono was continually surprised by the corpse's unlikely skill, and it was unable to breach his defensive stance.

Angrily, Kono realized that he had been drawn into a battle playing by someone else's rules. There was no peace in his movements, they lacked the finesse of his strict discipline. He was fighting as any other Jedi or Sith might. Supernatural enemy or not, this could not be allowed to happen.

He focused his indignation, his anger, into a single lashing thought and let loose with a mighty shock wave of Force energy directed at the corpse he fought. His adversary was thrown back fifteen feet, still clutching the sword but off-balance. He let commitment to unyielding attack wash over him and charged forward with new purpose. Not to defeat but to destroy.

The maneuvers came effortlessly, striking almost of their own accord at the object of his deadly intent. Knifing swings and sudden chops paralyzed the corpse's ability to counter-attack as it became occupied fully with staving off Kono's furious assault. The possessing spirit's unnatural speed and strength wore down on the host body; stiff arms could not move with the same precision as did Kono's, its shriveled, shambling legs could not match the frantic pace the flurrying motions of the combat were enforcing.

With the advantage fully his, Kono pressed the attack even further. His swings and blows came at an even faster pace, one which the shuddering corpse could not hope to counter. Its sword slipped once and that was all Kono needed. His punishing swipe ripped through the cadaver's shrunken chest and tore apart its midsection, shoulders, and head.

Once again, as the pieces fell, Kono caught an evanescent glimpse of his ghostly adversary.

Rather than wait for the next corpse to come shuffling out of the gloom, Kono sent a compressed blast of concussive Force energy down the hall that shook the whole tunnel, dislodging the odd block and sending down showers of dust and grit. An anguished shriek sounded from up ahead.

Proceeding down the tunnel, Kono came shortly to the remains of a thick stone door lying scattered in pieces all over the floor. Beyond lay a large round chamber in the center of which stood an imposing sarcophagus. All around the chamber were bodies. Some were skeletons, others in various stages of decomposition. Kono stepped carefully over the shattered door into the gloom of the burial chamber.

In short order, a dead body rose up to oppose him. But he was no longer in a mood for a long duel with a corpse. Grimacing, he shot forth lances of blue lightning from his fingers, incinerating the rotting carcass. Another staggered to its feet right in front of him; he dismembered it with a few quick chops. A skeleton lurched at him and was disintegrated by a sudden discharge of Force energy.

The phantom was body-hopping, attempting to keep Kono fighting as long as possible. But, having only the oldest, most decomposed corpses at its disposal, it was not enough. Kono slashed through the pathetic opposition of the undead with ease. They had nothing with which to fight him, so they just launched themselves at him and were torn apart by his lightsabre.

In minutes, not one body remained intact. The floor was littered was bone fragments and chunks of decayed flesh.

For the first time, Kono saw the apparition clearly as it materialized to hover over the sarcophagus, and he finally realized who it must be. This was Ajunta Pall himself. The ghostly figure of the Dark Lord cast his head about in dismay at the ruined corpses that lay all around. He spoke in a withered voice that echoed with loneliness.

"You, how could you make it this far? How could the power of this tomb not destroy your mind? No one since my days of old has made it into my sanctum and not been consumed. And yet you stand here, facing me. How?"

The specter no longer triggered alarm from Kono's senses, there was nothing it could do to him now. Even so, he answered carefully.

"The thing about the Dark Side, and the Force in general, is you can never let it become who you are. For the moment you do, your life, your very soul is no longer yours but a pawn of the very power you seek. I am a soldier. Not Sith, not Jedi. But my mind is not blind to the teachings of either. Both have their strengths and their weaknesses, but neither can be allowed to rule the mind."

"You speak the truth. I was once Dark Lord of the Sith, Master of the Force, embodiment of the Sith spirit. It brought me nothing but what you see now; a desolate loneliness, even while I was yet alive. But there is no escape for me. My soul belongs to the Dark Side. It is, like you said, no longer my own. And so here I am, forced to haunt my grave for all eternity," the spirit uttered in a voice devoid of hope.

Kono was not moved by pity for the former Dark Lord that stood before him, instead he was disgusted at the frivolity with which the man had traded away his life.

"Your name is Ajunta Pall, millions were once inspired with respect and fear at the mere mention of that name. You rose to be Dark Lord not because of ill-conceived bargains with your soul but because you were cunning, skilled, and intelligent. I know the history of your reign, you were one of the most brilliant leaders the Sith Empire ever had.

"Look at you now; a pitiful excuse for a man without even his own identity. Stripped of everything that once made you great, you are held in thrall by the powers you so coveted." Kono spat the words, deliberately trying to provoke the spirit.

He succeeded. Rising from his stupor, the apparition's voice shook with indignation.

"You cannot judge me! You know not of what I endured, what I still endure!" The ghost shouted in fury.

"I need not know of the causes, for I can see what they have done. You were too weak to preserve that which you should have guarded at all costs. In the face of that failure, everything you thought you had accomplished is as nothing. As long as you are a slave to the Force you will never know the peace of true death and forever will you haunt this place, as you have done for thousands of years. It matters not as to the why, for the result is unchanged. Your life, or death, as it may be, is not your own; it belongs to your power," Kono reproached him.

"Then what hope is left for me?" the spirit asked.

Kono had been waiting for this very question.

"Fight. Fight for yourself, for who you used to be, for the right to die in peace, for the right to be free from the dominion of the Force. There is no other alternative; fight. Fight with everything you have, with all that is left of you. Fight to reclaim your soul from the authority of the powers to which you sold it. This is your only chance, your only hope for peace," Kono advocated.

The specter appeared convinced.

"Your words ring true, there is much wisdom in what you say," he responded. "You are not a soldier, but a Dark Lord lying in wait. I can sense much greatness within you. You may, one day lead all Sith, as I once did. To aid you on your path, I will give you my sword. It lies within my grave. To any other but you who may think to take it, it shall become as hot as flame with my fury. This is my gift to you in return for your wisdom. I am Ajunta Pall once more, and will never again submit to the domination of the Dark Side. I thank you." Ajunta's form faded as he spoke his last words, his ghostly apparition disappeared.

Kono heard the sound of sliding stone and saw the lid of the sarcophagus open, revealing the mummified remains of the Dark Lord. A long black sword was clutched in the cadaver's hands. When he reached for it, the sword flew into his hand of its own accord. He felt the power of the weapon crackling just beneath its surface, perpetually ready to be unleashed in the heat of battle. It, too, sought to enter his mind with icy tendrils of influence; as had the silent barrier at the tomb's entrance. Kono denied the creeping tentacles of perverted dark side energy access to his mind. He kept his thoughts isolated from the volatile powers of the sword, establishing dominance over it.

He swung the sword experimentally in his hand. It would be a powerful tool, just as all his powers were. But it could be nothing more.

<>

He sensed them long before they could see him. There were about eight Sith students advancing down the tunnel towards him. Kono doubted any of them had had the strength of will to enter with their minds intact that he did. Most likely all of them were well along the road toward true slavery to the Force. When they came closer, Kono intuited that the leader of the group was Shaardan, the first arrogant Sith he had encountered on Korriban.

It was time for him to learn his place.

Shaardan grinned triumphantly when he saw the purple light of Kono's lightsabre approach from the gloom of the tunnel. His eyes widened with greed when saw, too, the black sword gripped firmly in Kono's other hand. When he spoke, any minute trace of reason that might once have existed within him was gone.

"Finally! It's about time someone retrieved the sword of Ajunta Pall. Give it to me now and I just might consider letting you live," demanded the pompous Sith.

Kono laughed in his face. It was not a pleasant laugh.

"Or what? Do you honestly believe you can kill me and take the sword?" He asked, anticipating Shaardan's reply.

"I warned you before; I'm far more powerful than you could ever be! You'll pay for your impudence, I promise you!" Without further ado, Shaardan and his companions drew their lightsabres.

Kono was already a step ahead of them. As their hands moved to the hilts that hung from their belts, he was already crossing the distance between him and them. The lightsabre in his right hand hummed with the motion and the black sword in his left seemed to quiver with expectancy. As Shaardan finished the motion of bringing his lightsabre to bear in front of him, Kono swung the sword in an upward arc, ignoring the red lightsabre completely and slicing into his opponent's arm. Shaardan's wrist and hand were chopped off diagonally and the hilt of his sabre flew, destroyed, against the wall. As he began to scream in pain, Kono's right hand stabbed the violet blade of his lightsabre up into Shaardan's gut, impaling him. The point of it stuck out between the Sith's shoulders as he tried to begin his scream; breath failing from his charred lungs.

The seven Sith seemed to move in slow motion in comparison to Kono's attack. He flowed around them, ducking under their swings with ease and delivering stinging blows with sabre and sword. With every lunge he broke through a shaky defense, or tested a more stable one. He relentlessly pushed forward, tearing into the group of Sith and leaving a trail of dead behind him.

One by one they fell to his blades, none of them having landed a single blow against him. Leaving their corpses behind, Kono continued down the tunnel and emerged fifteen minutes later into the still bright afternoon sun of Korriban. The black sword in his hand seemed to defy the sunlight to brighten its dark smoky surface.

Uthar would be pleased.

To be continued...