Hidden in Felucia’s jungle lies a two hundred meter expanse marking the ancient burial site of this world’s deadliest creatures and the location of innumerable remnants of hundreds, if not thousands of rancors. A circular enclosure of sun-bleached bones are arranged in the center of the cemetery—no doubt the former dwelling of a powerful practitioner of the Force. Cobwebs cling to the fallen beasts, a testament to the primordial age of some of the creatures.

Somewhat obscured by surrounding cliffs and the luminescent jungle, the dusted bones and carcasses are cast in a faint shadow, leaving just enough light to see by. The atmosphere is thick and stifling, with a strong overtone of dust and bone suspended in the still air. The taint of the Dark Side's influence has polluted the landmark over time, giving form to a dreadful aura that has scared off scavengers hoping to sell off a rancor tusk or two. Unlike most of Felucia, the area is nearly devoid of life aside from ravenous predators dwelling within the hollowed-out husks of dead rancors.

Ellac drew a thoughtful breath as he looked up to the sickly-colored sky above him. The air was as stale and old as the bones that lay at his feet, the taste of dust and decay creating a film in his mouth as he tried not to think about what exactly it was he was breathing in. Ellac let his eye fall back down to the horizon of distant mountains, studying the lifeless wasteland that contrasted starkly against the lush vegetated jungles that cover the rest of Felucia’s surface. His gaze slowly tracked along the edge of the crater that he stood in, scanning across the open ribcages and fractured jawbones for any sign of life before stopping on an object that the Knight had become all too familiar with: A hollow rancor skull, half-buried in the arid soil. Ellac stared into it’s vacant eye sockets, seething as he noticed another one sitting a ways off behind it, and another of to the side from that one. The closer he looked, the more he saw; Dozens of rancor skulls were scattered across the crater, a few of them even home to intricate weaves of cobwebs hanging from the nostrils of the fallen beast’s remains.

“This place…” Ellac slowly drew another breath, closing his eye as he reached out with the Force. “I thought it would be cold, and empty. But I was wrong.” He could feel the weight of the Dark Side flowing around him like a heavy mist. Crouching down, Ellac laid an open hand on one of the bones at his feet. “These bones tell stories. A history…” Flashes of blaster fire and faint screams streaked through the Sith’s mind. “This must be what Sykes and Kam feel. This raw power…” Ellac spoke to himself, opening his eye again.

“Playing in the dirt again, I see.” A familiar voice called from beside the Knight.

Ellac’s hand instinctively moved to reach for his saber, but he stopped himself as he looked over to see where the words had come from.

“Seriously, I thought Kam ruined you on close-up investigations with that little nose dive you took into the Rancor excrement.”

Ellac looked up at the source of the voice, his gaze met with a smug smirk belonging to Kah’ri, who seemed to be comfortably perched on a nearby section of some unknown creature’s old spine. “Oh, it’s you.” Ellac said as he rose from his crouch. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to watch you basking in this musty place,” Kah’ri said, waving his hand in front of his face as if to clear the dust suspended in the air. “Just think about all the dead cells in the air…” He said, his smirk growing slightly as he looked back to see Ellac’s reaction to his words.

“I’ve inhaled worse. Much worse.” Ellac said, looking back down at the bones at his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” Kah’ri jabbed back with a gleeful tone. “I’ve been following you since you left Arx. What does a Knight like you want from a wasteland like this?” The Mystic sharpened his tone as he used that title to refer to Ellac.

“I’m searching for something. But I think a better question is why is a Mystic like you following me all the way out here? What do you want?” Ellac reflected Kah’ri’s tone using his title.

Kah’ri stood up from his perch, sliding on his feet down the slope of the spine to the ground. “Searching for something? Like what, I wonder?”

Ellac’s eye locked onto one of the Rancor skulls again. “A personal effect, and a personal matter. And you didn’t answer my question: What do you want?”

“Nothing gets past you, Ellac!” Kah’ri jeered as he made his way over to the skull Ellac’s gaze was fixed on. “In truth, I’m here for you. Or more to the point, I’m here to see what Kamjin sees in you.”

“So you are as judgmental as you look,” Ellac said, looking up from the skull at Kah’ri. “Okay then. So you’re here to test me. Why?”

Kah’ri stepped past the skull, moving into a circular path around Ellac as he stared off into the distance. “You seem to get a lot of attention for such a fresh face to the Clan. I want to know why it is that everyone seems to take such an interest in you.”

Ellac sensed a dark shift in the Force flowing around Kah’ri as he noticed an infinitesimal adjustment in the Mystic’s posture, like a hunter closing in on his prey. Ellac ignored the instinct within him to adjust his stance, demanding himself to stay relaxed as Kah’ri continued to slowly circle around him. “I’d like to believe I’m a pretty likable guy.”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s your winning personality.” Kah’ri rolled his eyes, his gaze still set out at their surroundings. He was nearly past Ellac’s shoulder at this point. “And so the Womp Rat has found himself in a trap,” He thought to himself, with a discrete flick of his hand. “Why don’t we see what the rat will do once the trap is sprung.”

Ellac didn’t turn to follow Kah’ri’s movements, staring back at the Rancor skull instead as he reached out through the Force to track his opponent. A puzzled look flashed across Ellac’s face as he whipped around to uncover what he sensed. Kah’ri stood directly behind him, shoulder-to-shoulder with two identical copies of Kah’ri that stood right next to him. Two more Kah’ri’s split out of the copies, who split into another duplicate pair, repeating this cycle until Ellac was completely surrounded. Ellac summoned his lightsaber to his hand with the Force, scanning the wall of men around him as a grin spread on his face. His red blade sprung to life as he lowered his stance. “You’re gonna need more men, Kah’ri. These odds don’t look good for you.”

Kah’ri and his clones continued to encircle the Knight, grinning with that disgusting smile he thinks is charming. Together they stopped, their smirks subsiding, and took a deep breath as if to scream, but Ellac heard… nothing. The environment faded into black and everything had become completely silent. The present heaviness had not disappeared, though. He was clearly in the same location. With no hearing, Ellac was forced to rely on his other senses.

“That pompous piece of bantha crap wants me to use my eye,” Ellac thought to himself.

Scanning over his shoulder, Ellac caught a pair of Marru’s projections crouched to charge the sith in an image resembling starships right before jumping into hyperspace. Ellac spun around, flipping into the air as he drew his hidden blade. As they lunged above and beneath him, Conrat sliced his crimson blade through the air toward one and stabbed at the other with his wrist blade. The falsified figures fell to the ground, dissolving into a heavy red mist that settled onto the black floor.

“COWARD!” Ellac belted into the auditory emptiness, his teeth bared like the rancor skulls he could no longer see.

“You would play games with me for an answer to some trivial question? Why don’t you come and ask me - with your blade?”

“Because toying with you…” a dozen voices shifted through the silence, “…is twice as fun.”

The voices collided, as if half were talking in a different language.

Four more apparitions appeared. These ones seemed almost dead in appearance. They wandered aimlessly, jaws unhinged and hanging from one side. Their mouths moved as if to be speaking, given that something like what he saw could even perform such a menial task anymore. Their mouths stopped moving and their faces locked onto the sith. Ellac raised his lightsaber, ready to cut down these creatures.

As they stepped toward him, the figures fell to the ground, melting into a puddle of blood. He watched as the blood began to move toward him, flowing faster than any natural liquid would. Conrat centered his focus and shot his hands out in a pushing motion. The puddle splashed against an unseen wall and restarted its movement toward him.

Ellac lashed out at it with a lightning bolt. This seemed to slow the stream, but not completely halt it. He continued the high-voltage assault until the dark fluids came to stop at a certain distance.

“Kintik hadzuska sutta chwituskak…” the voices echoed through the dark.

The blood moved to encompass the Knight as crashes of atmospheric lightning began to strike throughout the black, as if charged by the sith’s own electricity. Slowly, the blood began to rise into the air, attracting more and more lightning with it.

“This moof-milker really doesn’t understand, does he?” Kah’ri remarked to one of his copies. “I don’t think he does,” it replied. The ground underneath Ellac opened, pouring him into an large room. It was the ruins of some complex with vegetation growing through cracks and nearly a meter of standing marshy water. This felt familiar.

“Should we tell him?” the Mystic rhetorically asked.

“No. Let’s have her tell him.” Kah’ri’s voice oozed with sinister intent.

Still unable to hear anything beyond Marru’s voice, Ellac noticed growing vibrations in the water coming from down a hallway. A rush of clarity came to the Knight as he remembered bitterly: the Corrino Research Laboratory.