The Valley of the Jedi. The legendary location of the final battle under the surface of Ruusan, between the Army of Light and the Brotherhood of Darkness. The battle ended in an instant when Lord Kaan’s followers detonated the thought bomb in a reckless move to with the campaign, proving the catalyst for the Ruusan Reformation. Joining within the cavern that would be the site of a dangerous ritual, the Dark Lords were vanquished along with Hoth’s followers; the resulting vacuum consuming the souls of Sith and Jedi alike to be tormented for an eternity.

Standing near the edge of that cave, the tiered stone steps that circle the valley greet intruders with an otherwise unremarkable passage into its depths. The ground is rocky and uneven, sloping downwards towards the center. Stalagmites litter the floor, small outcroppings of rock thrust out from the ground like huge stone blades. However, those formations pale in size compared to the chiselled stone statues encircling the Valley in perfectly concentric circles. The sculptures seem almost alive, as if the faces of the dead had been perfectly captured in the carvings, still holding traces of the doomed souls they represented.

Inside the cavern lies the echoes of those who perished in the thought bomb’s detonation. Within its deepest recesses rests an oblong orb that floats just above the ground. Encased within the dreadful relict are the souls of those who were consumed at the ritual’s epicenter. Uneasiness radiates from the artifact as the helpless cries and echoes enter the minds of all those who enter the cave, driving most to madness before meeting death on the surface of Ruusan.

Stone faces, frozen in horror, seemed to judge Turel as he descended the winding path down into the cave. The Jedi took a deep breath behind his “liberated” Sith mask to center himself and dismiss nagging thoughts that the eyes of the wall carvings were following him as he walked. The Valley of the Jedi was a sacred place, but it also gave him the creeps. A quiet desperation emanated from every rock and crevice, a feeling that only grew stronger as one descended to the center.

The entire Brotherhood had descended into chaos with reports of Pravus’ abrupt disappearance and the disengagement of Inquisition forces from battlefields across Brotherhood space. Suddenly, designations like friend and foe became a lot more complicated. As SenNet scrambled to make sense of it all, whispers came across Inquisition channels of a retrieval mission to Ruusan. With resources spread thin it was given a low priority, but something in the back of his mind nagged at Turel to investigate, and here he was. This was a Jedi matter.

As the Sentinel approached the base of the cave, he noticed a small gathering near an oblong floating orb in the center. The orb had a reflective surface like polished chrome and made the Jedi extremely uncomfortable to look at it. Two helmeted soldiers were setting up what appeared to be scientific equipment aimed at the mysterious orb while a third, white-haired male in Mandalorian armor stood with his arms folded. The mando’s long hair, thick beard, and fur cloak reminded Turel of the barbaric looking Okami Mandalorians he had met in the Kiast system, only this one’s armor was painted black and purple. The soldiers' outfits bore the same color scheme.

Only one faction has a compelling enough purple fetish to so brazenly decorate everything, including their minions, in that particular color after the purge of the Krath: the Keibatsu, Turel deduced as he watched the scene unfold before him.

“Everything will soon be prepared for Darth Ashen’s ritual, my lord,” one of the soldiers remarked to the older looking man with a bow. Curiously, the mando did not seem to utter anything aloud in reply. Instead, the armored servant nodded as if receiving instructions and departed with an “at once, my lord.”

The Keibatsu underling began to walk toward the creeping Jedi, and Turel knew he didn’t have time to hide. It was time to make his play.

Turel’s mind raced to formulate a quick plan. What would a dark sider say right now? He continued to focus on subduing his Force signature but dipped just enough into the currents of the Force to touch the minds of three men below to alter their perception of his voice, so it sounded deeper with an almost supernatural reverberation.

“Death walks among you,” the Sentinel stated with all the theatrical flair he could muster.

The approaching soldier jumped and instinctively drew his rifle only to lower it as Turel stepped into the light. “My apologies, uh, Lord Inquisitor.”

The Mandalorian glared at the newcomer with crimson and sapphire from his natural and artificial eyes. Who are you and what are you doing here? The words drilled directly into the Jedi’s mind, but there was a weight behind them. A weight that caused Turel’s confidence to falter. A crushing fear that perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew with this haggard-looking Keibatsu warrior.

After a few tense moments of silence, the Jedi mustered the will to reply, “My identity is no concern of yours. This artifact is claimed by the Iron Throne. In the name of the Grand Master, I order you to cease this ‘ritual’ and leave this place.” A bold bluff, but sometimes those worked.

Silence filled the chamber as the two soldiers simultaneously bowed and left as if compelled by some silent instruction.

The foreign voice returned to the Jedi's mind, there is only one Grand Master I serve.

Turel only had a split second to brace himself before the man raised his hand and sent a invisible blast of Force energy his way, knocking him off his feet and into a statue of Lord Hoth behind him. The disguised High Councilor bounced off the stone Jedi Lord’s chest and fell to the floor below.

I kind of walked right into that one. Don’t any of these dark siders believe in talking through their conflicts?

Turel pushed himself to his knees and looked up in time to observe the armoured man advance towards him. Once more, the supposed Mandalorian raised his hand towards the fallen Sentinel but rather than being blasted into the statue again, he felt a tightness begin to wrap around his throat and he was roughly dragged into the air and held in place.

Kojiro peered at the Inquisitor he held before him and sighed in annoyance. He had little time to deal with such nuisances, especially with a power vacuum that was sure to follow with the disappearance of the Grand Master. The ritual had to be completed and nothing could stand before him and the others of his ilk from doing what needed to be done to secure and protect themselves. The clone began to squeeze the other beings; throat with the Force and he watched the Inquisitor’s legs kick him as he struggled for air.

You worms sneak into every crevice. Destroying, breaking, ripping apart everything we stand for. The Obelisk.The Krath. All those who are your betters. His thoughts punctured the mind of the flailing Inquisitor. I expected more.

He watched his foe go limp and with an air of confidence dropped the figure to the ground. Kojiro approached and placed his boot upon the figure’s armour and began to lean down to pry the mask from the man when the figure moved. The hand lashed out, but rather than throw a punch, it opened and released a cloud of dust that drove itself into the Nihilgenia’s eyes. A yelp of pain echoed out into the night as Kojiro’s sight left him. The clone began to stumble around as he attempted to remove the foreign particles from his eyes. Something struck the Nihilgenia and he felt his entire body leave the ground and sail through the air before colliding with something hard. Kojiro’s body struck the ground and the air left his lungs leaving him both winded and blind.

Pushing himself to his feet, the Juggernaut shook his head several times and drew in vast quantities of air to replace that which had left him. The vision in his eyes began to return and he could just make out the hazy shape of something moving on the edge of his vision. That something moved and a blaster shot echoed around the valley. Though partially blinded, the clone managed to avoid the first shot as the influence of the Force took over. Kojiro moved towards the shape and as he did, his eyesight began to clear and the image of the Inquisitor became clearer to him.

“I’d prefer you to fall now, big guy. I have a job to do and I’d rather you just lay down and let me do it,” the Inquisitor called over to the Keibatsu. “Or how about you just surrender now and save me the hassle of having to do this?” A second series of shots erupted from the Inquisitor’s blaster, but this time the Krath was ready. His white bladed lightsaber sprung into life and blocked the deadly shots before they struck home. “I’m honestly surprised that thing is white, I half expected purple!” Turel half joked as he moved as far as he could away from the Juggernaut

Enough games, worm. The voice drifted into Turel’s mind and then something hit him as he stared at the approaching juggernaut. A momentary sense of fear that stopped him in his tracks and as he raised his blaster he found his hand faltering. Turel shook his head and gritted his teeth through the moment of unease. That moment was all Kojiro needed to gain on the man. His lightsaber swept down in a large arc that would have decapitated the Inquisitor had the man's red lightsaber not activated and risen on defiance of the blow. The Nihilgenia’s strength, however, drove the Inquisitor’s arm backwards with sheer force and the enemy’s red blade was driven into his own armour.

The Inquisitor winced at the pain and turning his head away from Kojiro, raised his hand and called on the Force unleashing a salvo of blinding light that once more took the vision from the Juggernaut, short-circuited his artificial eye dropping him to his knees in pain. Anger boiled beneath the surface and though blind he rose to his feet and gave everything to the rage.

Now you die.

It was in this moment that Turel realized entering this cave without backup had been a grave mistake. His Inquisitor bluff had failed spectacularly and now he found himself face to face with a raging cyborg hulk with roughly forty kilos over him.

What are they feeding these guys? Turel pondered as he scrambled to put some distance between himself and his Keibatsu opponent. Knifing pain shot through the seared flesh in his upper torso with each movement. The throbbing wound served as a grim reminder that engaging the stronger man head to head in saber combat would be hazardous to the Jedi’s health.

The Sentinel’s eyes darted back and forth across the ancient hallway as he made his way away from the central chamber. A rapid thud thud thud from behind signaled his furious opponent closing in. Turel had mere seconds before the Nihilgenia would overtake him. He was not going to let his foolhardy mistake leave his daughter fatherless. The old gangster had to find a way to cheat death one more time.

Inspiration came in the form of a statue alcove carved into a sharp corner of the passageway. The alcove was positioned such that it was visible from both directions of the intersection. The sandstone sculpture contained the form of some long forgotten Jedi master holding her saber directly in front of her pointed skyward.

“I need your help, sista,” Turel whispered to the silent stone Jedi as he took up position in the opposite hallway, just inside the blind spot of the corner. The High Councilor tried to quiet the dull roar of his injured body and focus on the flowing currents of the Force. He could feel his adversary’s approach rippling through Force like a white-hot wave of fire. Turel reached out to touch the Keibatsu’s mind. The rage was almost palpable, nearly painful to touch, but the Jedi was determined and poured every ounce of his will into altering his opponent’s perception. Now he just needed a pithy taunt.

What would a dark sider say to me in this situation?

“Marick sent me to kill you!” Turel wasn’t sure if that’s something the Voice would actually command, but in the heat of the moment, it was the best he could come up with. If he failed it would at least sow dissent among his enemies.

The Nihilgenia found his Inquisitor prey standing at junction of two passageways, saber blazing, seemingly waiting for him. In the throes of his bloodlust, Kojiro simply assumed his opponent had tired of running and was now ready to face him like a warrior. He closed the distance at superhuman speed and struck at the stranger with a broad horizontal sweep designed to cut the vexing interloper in two.

His ivory blade found only stone. The illusion faded and Kojiro found himself standing in the rubble of one of the ancient statues. He felt a warning through the Force and before he could react the Inquisitor jumped on his back, and he felt cold metal pressed into his exposed neck.

“Nap time, sweetums.”

The Keibatsu felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck where the cold metal object had been. He threw himself back into the adjacent wall in an attempt to smash his attacker. It worked. He felt the Inquisitor’s grip loosen with an “ompf” as the air exploded out of his lungs.

The Nihilgenia stepped forward and quickly spun around to see the Inquisitor crumpled on the floor face up.

The thwarted assailant coughed through his helmet as he tried to sit up. “I didn’t think that cunning plan all the way through.”

Kojiro raised his saber to strike the killing blow only to find the Inquisitor raise his hand in response. The Keibatsu received a forceful shove of invisible energy. Not enough to knock him over, but enough to arrest his momentum. He tried to will his muscles to move for a follow-up strike only to find that they were sluggish to respond to his command. His saber grew heavier, as did his eyelids. He dropped to his knees as his weapon slipped out of hand and rolled to the side.

“It’s taking effect, isn’t it? Don’t worry, it’s just a sedative. You'll be fine, except for that nasty welt the dart left on your neck. You’ll need to get that looked at.”

Everything faded to black.

Kojiro launched himself in the direction he thought his opponent was. His feet scuffed the broken ground and a soft rustling told him he was at least somewhat in the right area. His vision began to clear in his working eye but the stars that punctured his vision refused to budge resulting in nothing but blurry landscapes.

Stand still he shot aggressively towards his target.

“I am standing still, it’s not my fault you’re as a blind as a mynock,” the man shot back. His voice laced with sarcasm. “Oh, I suppose it is.”

An explosion of shots filled the air as an energy barrage made their way towards the hurting Keibatsu. Either via the Force or by pure luck only one of the incoming bolts found their mark. Striking Kojiro’s shoulder and sending the man almost spinning on the spot. An almost guttural cry finally escaped the large man's lips.

“So you can make noise? Here I was thinking you were some kind of mute,” a further jibe left Turel’s lips but it was drowned out by crashing masonry. With one hate filled tug through the Force Kojiro reached out and dragged down one of the surrounding smaller statues and sent it crashing into the ground near the Consul. Shards of rock showered them both and as the disguised man made his attempt to dodge the wreckage he suddenly found a very real fist clenching around his already bruised throat.

A soft choke slipped its way out from the Odanite and only through force of will did he avoid making any other sound. The enraged juggernauts second hand grabbed the mask Turel wore and with minimal effort dragged it from the Consul’s face. Fake light bathed the exposed flesh and the councillor held his breath expecting the worst. A fist collided heavily with his nose and the crunching sound of crushgaunt on cartilage filled their immediate proximity. Blood gushed and painted the gloves of the Keibatsu red. A second punch struck his cheek and when the third blow came in the Juggernaut loosened his grip and allowed the Force to flow through his blow.

The enraged haymaker strike struck Turel like a wild reek and had him momentarily free fall until he struck the ground with force. He lay there dazed and confused, blood running and pooling gently beside his head. A heavy thump had him painfully turn his attention to the side and he noted the large man had teetered and collapsed, his rage clearly spent and the pain in the clones body catching up with him.

They both stayed where they were, Kojiro slumped over in a near sitting position and Turel flat on his back. Neither moved for some moments and it was the Odanite that made the first move. Turning onto his front with a painful grunt he managed, just, to push himself up to his knees. As he did Turel let out a hacking cough of blood and what appeared to be a broken tooth. A thin dripping line of bloody spittle led its way from his mouth to the floor and the more he tried to spit it away from him the more it stuck to his beard. The clone behind him let out a groan and he hastened himself to his feet, gingerly picked his way through the debris-strewn battlefield and grabbed the mask that had fallen during the conflict.

Kojiro looked up and eyed the barely standing Inquisitor. He moved to push himself up but what strength he had left in his body failed to respond and so he simply stayed put.

Bloody...Inquisitors. Destroying everything. The effort was heard even in Turels head and he eyed the big man suspiciously.

“You have no clue who I am?” the Odanite queried.

A lapdog, a dead one once I rise.

The reply wasn’t what Turel had expected. Perhaps this man had no idea who he was. He could use this.”Inform the Keibatsu the Inquisition comes for them. Show them what we will do to you and all those that stand against us.” Then with as much effort as he could muster, and with a slightly over overenthusiastic swish he turned on his heel and left. Not before throwing one last glance at the Keibatsu berserker, hoping his words had the desired effect and that those who wore purple and black would do the Lotus more good than harm in days to come.