Brotherhood Of The Fittest

{This is just two little Obelisks tryna make uh difference in this dark, dark bruddahood. Uh-huh}

It was a presence to be sure.

It existed, it was real, but it did not live in this dimension. It did not live at all, in fact.

He felt it roaming the halls. He felt it in his private chambers.

In the depths of the temple it moved like a wind, like a chilling breeze with no source. A haunting specter, a looming figure in the dark...

"You would be a ghost," Voden spoke to the stillness. "Or a poltergeist."

Nothingness answered him. It was here. He could feel it.

"Much has changed since you last walked these halls, since this was your home."

Voden felt Marick's gaze on him, obviously bemused by Voden's outburst which was directed to the nothingness before him. The Mandalorian didn't answer it though, for something else, something more sinister, managed to consume his attention...

In the force, a swelling void more accurately, he felt malice and death. With his eyes he saw nothing. His ears heard no sound nor did any scents touch his nose. With his mortal senses he detected nothing, less then nothing. Weak, objects of a mere three dimensional existence, his human senses left him deaf and blind to that which he knew existed.

These halls, unchanged, were just as they had been during the times of Ferran. Spared the destruction that befell the upper levels and subsequent reconstruction these warren like depths were preserved, and would continue to be preserved, as they had been since the construction of the temple some thousands of years prior. The ages were trapped in these corridors, the eons of the Obelisk and the ways of those enslaved who preceded them. That was not all, however; which lurked in the darkness.

There was a presence here and Voden aimed to know it.

The rumors...

Amongst the superstitious Antei stories, ghost stories, had always been ones to circulate among the plebes.

Menials, maids and cleaners, cooks and house servants told tales of the Temple Boyna before Voden have ever set eyes upon its enigmatic structure. They talked in the quiet hours about the things roaming the halls of the once abandoned temple, about the apparitions that seemed to appear at random menacing their every move. Of course, this was a place of great mystical energy. Strange happenings were commonplace. After all, the lords of the temple, Obelisks, were masters of the dark arts. This place was of the Obelisk, and that's how its guardians intended to keep it.

Those who dared venture in to the temple often came back changed, terrorized, if they came back at all, but this... this was different. These droids had remained here for a long period of time, seemingly untouched by the untold terrors that haunted this ancient Obelisk domain, erected by Ferran and his servants of time past.

"Voden?" the voice served to snap the wondering Obelisk back to the present.

Voden looked back at Marick, a distant look upon his face. "I'm sorry... I zoned off for a bit."

The two resumed their departure, making their way swiftly through the underground corridors. As they passed a fork in the corridor, Voden felt the presence once more. He immediately stopped, taking Marick off guard who also stopped to look down the same corridor which the Mandalorian seemed transfixed by. The Obelisk Mandalorian thought he heard his partner say something, but in his dissociated state, he ignored it. Instead, he began making his journey through the fork corridor, towards the opposite direction of the exit of the temple.

The presence once more revealed itself, this time exponentially stronger than before. Around his feet, littered along the edges of the corridor, as if pushed aside to allow room by someone -- or something -- was droid parts. That was strange, especially since the Obelisk had not been involved in any altercations with Crask's droid forces this far into the temple, and these droids were definitely not of the Krath neither.

He knew what it was. The stories, they all pointed to the fate of these invaders of years before.

This thing, this ghostly haunter, moved freely about the temple. Its dark presence touched anyone and anything, anywhere regardless of boundary or supposed safety.

It supposedly had always been like this. Stories detailed of encounters with the being more regular and more intense as time progressed, and as the Order increased in size. Obelisk apprentices of the temple were found in dark corners, dead. Their bodies withered as if sucked dry of the very essence of life.

This wraith-like apparition had been here too. Instead of absorbing the life of inorganics, it had merely crushed them. Torn limbs and unrecognizable chassis piled around Marick and Voden. The two of them analyzed the strewn remnants studiously. What had done this? Voden looked at Marick, waiting for further judgment from his wiser and more powerful friend.

By Marick Del’Abbot’s estimate, the Obelisk duo where somewhere between the Bonya Temple and Triumvirate Library. The corridors where barely lit by the ancient torches lining the walls, and offered enough room for no more than three people at a time to comfortable traverse. Voden had to subtly call on the force to aid his vision as he followed close on his former brother's heels. While the Plagueian seemed a bit spooked, Marick seemed as cool and collected as would be expected of the Captain of Arcona's Black Ops. If there was any hints of fear in the Templar's body, he did well to conceal it.

With a tap to the side of the headpiece he wore in his long raven hair, an opaque visor flickered to life, shielding his eyes from his forehead down to his nose. The HUD flicked on with a slight twinge as the gloomy corridors suddenly lit up in a ghostly green hue. A mad-engineer and tinkerer on the side, Marick was glad to take full advantage of his prototype Oblivions Specter Armor. He could clearly see the corridor now, and felt himself reel back at the amount of carnage around them. Bones and long decayed bodies littered the halls. The air was stagnant and caused the Hapan noble to wrinkle his nose.

At his side, he could sense the uneasiness of his companion, who shifted his weight from foot to foot as he whispered to himself and carefully placed one foot in front of the other, saber hilt ready to spring to life in an instant. Marick knew Voden well from his time as a member of the Shadow Clan. He was one of the few dark jedi that he could even consider a "friend." The two had even faced off in the Arcona Arena Tournament, which despite his fledgling rank of Guardian he had managed to best the powerful Knight with a bout of creativity. Voden claimed that it was just beginers luck, which drew a rare, geniune grin from the Battleteam Leader. Marick had changed a lot since then; both mentally and physically. Still, it was nice to know that the two where able to pick up right where they seemingly left off, and had made their way this far to survive the "war".

Marick still didn't quite fully understand the whole grand scheme behind this battle of orders. It didn't help, perhaps, that the Hapan had never really considered himself the holo-board poster child of the Obelisk Order. Both of the Templar's mentors had been of Krath fame, which was clearly evident in his fighting style and mannerisms. Even the manner of his interrogative and investigative work with Oblivion Brigade was more kin to that of a shifty Sith. His only true loyalty, the proud Hapan knew, was to his house and his family.

With that in mind, the perceptive Arconan noticed that the remains of the droids had been recent and fresh, the smell of singed metal very much apparent. Upon closer inspection, he could see that the droids had put up little resistance. Kneeling down and placing one hand on the floor, Marick closed his eyes and channeled the force through his body, taking in the ancient floor and cyphering it’s memories through his thoughts.

In a series of quick flashes, the battle the droids had engaged in became clear. Two dark robed figures, bearing a violet and emerald sabers moved with quick and deadly precision. Removing his hand from the ground and opening his eyes he rose to his feet and turned to his partner.

“Two came through here before us. Highly skilled, efficient. Krath, most likely.” As he said the words, a twang of recognition shot through the back of the Battleteam Leader’s mind. He could have sworn he knew those movements from somewhere...

“Let’s keep moving,” Marick added calmly, instilling a sense of calm in Voden with a little help from the Force.

As the two made their way forward, they came into an opening that gave way to three different tunnels. The room was circular and large and seemed to have a high ceiling that let in a single ray of light from the surface. Looking around, Marick knelt down once again to put his hand to the floor in an attempt to figure out which Tunnel would lead them to their course.

Just then, Marick felt an ever so slight shimmer in the Force. With a distinct hum and not so subtle vibration shift in the air, he saw Voden go flying backwards into the wall from an unseen force. Snapping quickly back to his feet, the Templar felt his body moving on instinct as he ignited his azure shoto saber and quickly isolated the origin of the attack. In the blink of an eye, the Templar stood behind the attacker and leveled his saber with his neck.

"Don't move an inch," the Hapan whispered in a cold, unforgiving tone.

“Hrm, I guess it’s a good thing I’m usually on your team, Captain.” The more than familiar voice of his usual partner, Legorri Entar, hissed through the darkness. Marick didn't loosen his stance, even with the realization.

“A shame your partner wasn’t as quick as you. Though, you did learn from the best.” A second voice chimed in, also equally as recognizable.

Marick glanced slightly over his shoulder to see a familiar violet saber humming dangerously close to the back of his neck.

“You’re right, I did, Timeros.” Marick said flatly in his typical tone.

Looking down at the Hapan’s second hand, the other Entar saw the tip of a vibroblade poking lightly against his robed ribs.

The three Oblivion Brigade members lowered their weapons and shook hands.

“Good to see you’re not a total waste of my time, sir.” Timeros said with a slight bow of his head.

The two Entar’s looked over to Voden, who had just recovered back to his feet and made his way over to the duo.

“So, this is quite the reunion,” The Plagueian pointed out, rubbing his back from where it had hit the wall.

Legorri grinned and nodded his head while Timeros, always vigilante, got right down to business.

“I know we are of different orders, but we are all brothers in this. No matter what, that runs deeper than any credit or order can give us,” The Pontifex explained. All three nodded their heads in agreement.

Traversing the dark hallowed corridors of the Obelisk was not as simple as it sounded. Poorly lit, and exceptionally difficult for its occupants to fit, it didn't help any more that there were mounds of droid remnants scattered along the floor. Every step was perilous, fraught with disaster... however, Marick's presence served to assuage the uncomfortable Knight despite his concerned demeanor.

And it... he still felt that presence, and it was growing, and slowly overwhelming him. He couldn't tell where it was, who it was, or even what it was, but he could tell it was there. The power the unknown had over him was remarkable. He feared the unknown and what it could pertain to. Things that were kept secret were generally regarded as a threat. He didn't like threats, especially when they remained an enigma for any extended duration, such as this.

While the two had once been considerably close during Voden's time in Arcona, his connections to the former clan had been severed due to his new lodgings in Plagueis. This detriment had concerned him at first, but soon his duties became clear and he all but forgot of his past. However, it seemed no love was lost between the Obelisk pair as they instinctively worked together once again. Voden did notice something different between Marick, although he could not exactly put his finger upon it.

The Mandalorian had always prided himself on his observation skills, and even had been commended for them. It disappointed him that he failed so blatantly at analyzing his own friend. Mulling over this matter, albeit saddenning to him, managed to calm him to a degree, causing his mind to be distracted from the fearful presence that now grew with every step. He glanced back once at his companion and now saw a visor adorning his face.

He somewhat marvelled at the technology, imagining it allowed him to see in the dark corridors without the aid of the force, which Voden was using religiously throughout the journey. Anyone with any marked ability at reading things through the force would perceive Voden through it easily.

Which is exactly what happened.

Voden felt a swell of the force, but his distracted mind failed to comprehend its meaning. He was thrown back by the mystical energy, caught entirely off guard and off balance. He immediately shot up, his hand reaching for his lightsaber. As he did, he caught a glance of Marick holding his blade against the neck of the aggressor. No -- one of the aggressors, who surrendered.

He recognized the voice, Legorii Kryotek. A former friend of his from Arcona, and it seemed he was accompanied by another Arconan Krath, Timeros. An upwell of excitement flooded him; he had missed his old comrades whom he had once so fervently served alongside. They were here, right with him in these dark and meaningless halls of the Obelisk.

The four of them exchanged casual chat. Two Krath and two Obelisk, united by a bond deeper than any word or words could describe. The young Dark Jedi Knight could finally feel that this fruitless war was running through to its climax. That was good -- he had not wanted to fight anyone to begin with.

The three members of Oblivion Brigade and their old friend didn't seem to miss a beat. Even despite all that happened in the past few weeks of this War, the Dark Jedi navigated their way through the halls with quick and efficient ease. Although he couldn't explain it, Voden felt eerily calm, and figured that if there where any three people he'd have picked to accompany him on a missions inside creepy, haunted temples and ancient libraries, it would be the Arconan trio.

They where met with resistance along the way, but it seemed unfair to even call it that. Between the surgical precision of the quartet's humming sabers, the assortment of battle droids fell in heaps without so much as putting a scratch on any of the Dark Jedi.

Something was wrong, though. After traversing the corridors, they finally reached a room that resembled a sacrificial chamber. A fountain of blood spewed free as a pair of robed figures stood worshiping a worn and rather vague statue.

Dropping into defensive guards, Marick and Timeros readied their sabers as Legorii and Voden leapt towards the figures and slashed out with their sabers. Their sabers cut through the robes, but no satisfying sheer of flesh was heard or felt. The robes disintegrated, and both Legorii and Voden found themselves flying backwards with deadly force.

It was a trap.

A series of hooded warriors jumped down and surrounded the standing duo, as Legorii and Voden also climbed back to their feet. Standing back to back, the four brothers (at heart) grinned with malicious glee. It didn't matter anymore how the war ended. All that mattered was that they would remind these foolish warriors who exactly they where dealing with.

The only thing heard from the chamber where the sounds of bone chilling screams. Not one belonged to Legorii, Marick, Timeros, or Voden.

-Fin-