From space, Malachor seems no more than a lifeless ball of ash. In the center of an open crater, however, lies the ancient Sith Temple. This colossal pyramid of black stone is the relic of a disastrous battle between the forces of darkness and light thousands of years ago.

Though the surface of Malachor has a breathable atmosphere, the air is dead still, and there is no sign of life. The caldera housing the Temple is a tableau of the terrible struggle that took place here so many millennia ago. Scattered through the causeways and crumbling boulders are the petrified figures of the foregone combatants, their hands raised eternally against whatever cataclysm took the life from their bodies. Some still grasp their Jedi weapons, though most likely the life is gone from them too. The pallid white light of the sun spreads unhindered through the crater, but it does little to illumine the intrinsic darkness of the stones.

The Sith Temple is not a place of the light side. It is said the very stones react to the touch of the dark side. The pyramid itself is seemingly inaccessible, though its blocked entrance is associated with an old saying: “Two must lift these stones, no more, no less.” Despite its undeniable age, the crater is littered with signs of a more recent calamity; ash and debris, columns toppled outwards from the Temple, broken arches. It is as though the millennial dust stirred, briefly, then returned to its repose under the sun.

The space around Malachor was as desolate as the planet itself. Devoid of any debris or vessels, aside from the lone G-1A Starfighter sitting in the atmosphere. The ship was visible due to the crimson sigil of Naga Sadow painted upon its hull. Within the Uriel sat 2 individuals, one garbed in the pilot uniform worn by the Iron Legion, the other clad in a set of custom black Praetorian guard armor. The pilots slowly guided the vessel through the atmosphere, landing in front of a large black structure shaped like a pyramid.

The armored figure stood up from his chair. He squeezed past a pile of boxes and the large bacta tank dominating the interior of the ship. He glanced at the deactivated Medical Droid before looking over his shoulder and addressing the copilot. “I shouldn’t be long, this is merely a cursory inspection of the temple. The real work will begin with the arrival of DarkHawk and the other Force Sensitives. Keep Uriel running and expect me back within the hour. If I fail to return within 2 hours assume that I have fallen to something within the temple.” The copilot acknowledged the words with a nod. “But what about communication sir?” The armored figure paused. “There is all sorts of mumbo jumbo that always occurs whenever the Force gets involved. Do not trust any transmissions I make, especially from inside the temple.” The copilot frowned but replied “Understood sir. I will remain inside and await your return.”

The armored figure exited the ship and began walking towards the temple. Everything about this planet felt wrong, an alien sensation that sent a shiver up his spine. The throbbing pain from his armor’s magnetic field seemed amplified here. The figure removed his helmet revealing a bald head and hairless face. The colorless eyes, which identified the figure as a member of the Umbaran race, scrunched in irritation. The Umbaran reached towards the back of his head and made adjustments to his Technocratic Implant, vainly hoping that the pain would fade away. With a growl of irritation, the figure donned helmet, twisting it to secure the airtight seal.

The Umbaran walked closer to the pyramid shaped temple. A speeder painted a respectable imperial grey with garish accents of cyan and gold was parked to the side of the temple. The Umbaran recognized the model, the BARC speeder was employed by the Clone troopers of the Galactic Army of the Republic. It was a model the figure had seen many times, from before he was known as Calenhad Mobok’tel. Things were simpler back then, the Force Users were the enemy and anyone could be brought down with enough firepower. Anyone except that elusive Cerean Ki-adi Mundi who evaded them time after, Enough! Calenhad thought to himself. This is no time to be lost in memory.

Calenhad resumed his journey climbing the many stairs that lined the temple’s front. The Temple’s entranceway was marked with a phrase “Two must lift these stones, no more, no less.” The entrance was open and the ground was covered in dust that was recently disturbed. Kneeling down, the Umbaran could see a set of two tracks. One appeared to be footsteps while the other was a continuous line, as if something had been dragged across the floor. Calenhad activated the riot shield on his left arm, the grey energy offering a small amount of illumination in the dark temple. He advanced into the darkness, wary of what may come.

Calenhad glanced toward the Temple walls as he walked. The ancient Sith characters spoke of an event which had transformed Malachor. During one of the many conflicts between the Jedi and Sith a figure emerged to change the tide. This Hero/Conqueror/Savior wielded an immense Power/Weapon/Miracle to win the battle for the Sith forces. The translations were made in haste but it was evident that many accounts of the battle existed upon these walls.

As he walked Calenhad heard a sound beside his armored boots echoing through the halls. “...see that BB? This writing has to be thousands of years old! Wait ‘till I tell the clan about what we found!” Calenhad followed the sound to an open chamber. A blue skinned figure wearing dark red and black armor flitted between the chamber’s walls, recording images with a holocam. A BB unit rolled alongside him, beeping affirmatively at his master’s statements.

Calenhad stepped into the chamber. “What manner of business brings you to Malachor stranger?” The blue skinned alien turned to respond. Calenhad noted the lightsaber clipped to the utility belt wrapped around waist. ‘A Force User then’ Calenhad thought. ‘Right handed due to the positioning of the Saber. The utility belt is particularly worrisome. No other visible weapons but the belt changes that. Prioritize removing the belt before neutralization.’ Lost in his observations Calenhad missed most of the strangers introduction. “...and my name is Kadrol Hauen.”

“I’m afraid that I am going to have to ask you to leave Kadrol. The Temple is not open to visitors and has priceless artifacts that can easily be damaged.” Calenhad told the Pantoran. “On whose authority? This planet is abandoned. You can’t force me to leave!” Kadrol replied incensed. Calenhad pried the riot shield off his arm letting it hit the ground with a loud Clang! He withdrew his Vibro-abir blades and began walking towards Kadrol. “You misunderstand. I am not asking.” Calenhad ignited the electroplasma filaments, causing two small green blades to emit from the Vibro-abir. Kadrol grasped his saber in his right hand, igniting the purple blade.

Calenhad stepped forward, pivoting on his right foot and swinging his left blade in an upward diagonal. Kadrol reacted quickly bringing his saber downward to intercept the blow. Calenhad swung his right blade horizontally, forcing Kadrol to step backward in order to pull his saber to meet the blade. Calenhad continued to test Kadrol’s defenses, paying close attention to any possible weakness to take advantage of.

Kadrol’s defense relied upon mobility in order to compensate for his weaker physical strength. He was willing to give ground to avoid being bogged down and overpowered. Calenhad would have to wear him down and wait for the right moment as his armored form is far slower than the agile Force Sensitive. Taking advanage of the pause in combat Calenhad reached into his stimulant pack and withdrew a syringe. Sliding his left gauntlet down, Calenhad injected the stimulant into a vein in his arm. Replacing his gauntlet, Calenhad’s heart began to beat faster as the stimulant coursed through his veins. A smirk spread across his face, it had been a while since he had faced such a challenge.