- Joined
- Sep 22, 2015
THE MASTER CALLS - Continued -
It is a place of shimmering snow, biting winds and lightning abound. Each of the different winds' chill cuts deep into our forms, and we find ourselves gritting our teeth against the tempestuous weather after we disembark on the storm planet. We have made landfall on the blasted world of Exogol.
Our helmets, armor and layered tunics help insulate us against the planet's hostile temperament, but that is the needless physical protection, a weakness that Lord Snoke showed us to withstand. The raging environment screams around us as we venture further towards our destination, and we recognize this feeling, this growing presence as we march onward. The planet is broken, yes- but not through any natural cataclysm.
Exogol's latent fury is none other than the Dark Side rending the planet apart along it's leylines crisscrossing under its tectonic plates.
"Incredible." Ushar manages a gasp over the howling wind, probably the sixth out of Exogol's catalogued 24. The records recovered from one of Darth Sidious's storehouses informed them us as much. "I feel it... The power. It's rawness..." The mandibles of Ushar's helmet uncouple and recouple themselves, as if adapting to the storm of pelting hail and screaming air. Kuruk takes stock of the situation, finishing off Ushar's observation. "Bogan is not just strong here, it is absolute. I thought Korriban or Dromund Kaas to be powerful, steeped in it. But here..."
Trudgen gestures toward the jagged shape on the horizon, the bare outline of a mountain range, glaciers... The strange rough outline of a citadel carved out of the very edge of the ice stares back at us. "The coordinates Lord Snoke dispatched us on! The Tourniquet for the Wound in the Force must be there!" We make fists to affirm that we understand, and keep moving towards the frozen claws, scratching against the wretched sky of Exogol. I turn about to see how the my brothers fare, and Ap'lek reaches out, grabbing my shoulder and urging me forward. "Come brother Ren." Ap'lek gives me a ghost of a nod, as I sense him smiling, his words encouraging. "We carry out this last command of Lord Snoke before we deal with our traitor Master. Like you said. Like you promised."
"Like I promised..." I whisper, and suddenly I am back at Luke Skywalker's academy, with my fellow Brothers-in-arms... And looking about the smiling faces of those who were struck down.
"Jerenn?" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. Burdened with knowledge, with restraint- but with none of the harsh wit that I would come to know. "Master...!" I begin, my arms raised, seeing I am in my former robes of a Jedi. Kylo Ren- he stands unarmored before me, in this time before, when he was only-
"Please. I'm no one's Master. I have a lot to learn about the Force myself, Jerenn." I take stock of the situation, it makes no sense whatsoever. "Of course, Ben." I state politely, trying to sound as normal as possible, while the words echo in my lie as something distasteful, disgusting. "Master Skywalker knows best."
"Vicrul!" I hear a frantic whisper from behind me. Ushar is as he was, dressed in cream and white robes, his brown hair covering the scar he bore on a mission to free Imperial Remnant slavers. As he drew nearer in a few steps, our memories eternal of our shared past as students to Skywalker began to show cracks. "We are still on Exogol." Ushar said plainly. Everything was as it was- the fledgling academy, our Master, when he was still Ben Solo... And us. We still bore the eyes of Bogan, the Dark Side still about us.
"Is this an illusion?" I wonder aloud, and Ushar looks about once again as well. "It seems too real. FEELS too real, Brother Ren." He points towards Ap'lek, who is with one of our fellow Jedi, walking together. Before he was Ap'lek, he was Wr'kel, and we knew he was smitten with another of our own, the beautiful Kassida Bev. Despite Wr'kel being Kiffar and she being a Zabrak, we all knew of their passion for each other. "This is the past." I breathe, my breath quickening. I call upon the Force and force my way from this illusion. "If it is one." I mutter under my breath, cursing as the Jedi robes seem to chafe against me, as if all of Ashla is bearing down upon my form.
"It's hard to tell. From what I can gather... Either this is Bogan itself screaming at us to stay away..." Ushar responds to my silent cursing, while Kuruk appears as he was, when he was simply Badaf Yar. "Or the wound in the Force is nothing like we've known." He turns our attention to Wr'kel, who has finished his leisurely stroll with Kassida and now comes face to face with the three of us, we Knights of Ren.
Wr'kel's eyes are that of ours.
Immersed in the Dark Side. In Bogan.
He is taking advantage of this vision, this moment, to relive the bliss he had before we made our vow at the edge of the Master's lightsaber, before the will of Lord Snoke, before Bogan itself. Before we did what had to be done.
"Ap'lek." Trudgen reveals himself, his white cape a Stark contrast to his gray Jedi robes betraying his inner darkness early on even then when they were still training under Skywalker. His skin was ashen-grey, his hair hung in neat combs, appearing as he did in the past, but like us, the eyes of Bogan were present. "How fares lovely Kassida?" Wr'kel is surprised to see Ushar, Kuruk and I, but spins round to see Trudgen, whom he calls by the name only those of the Ashla use. "Rinigar." Wr'kel gasps. "By the Force, this is no vision, no wound. It is a new beginning."
Already I sense Trudgen's growing anger at Wr'kel's - at Ap'lek's vanity and self-serving motivations. But it gave me pause. Were these not the driving forces of the Sith? Of those who used the Dark Side... The power of Bogan, to keep, to possess... To control? Passions were but a part of the promise of Bogan, compared to the Jedi's attachment to things and sentients. "-But Master Skywalker has done away with the traditions." Wr'kel responds, and I realize that he has answered my own question deep in the recesses of my thoughts.
"The Force wound is larger, spreading." I point at Wr'kel, as images of who he was and who he is begin to overlap. "It's power is more than we could imagine, and we can probably handle. We must reassert ourselves in Bogan, and close the wound at it's edge! Then we find Lord Snoke's 'Tourniquet' for this wound." I look at Ushar, who has reasserted himself in Bogan, and his familiar mandibled helmet and tunic greet me with his staff in hand, the other arm resting across his chest in a salute with an iota of lingering respect towards us.
I turn to Kuruk, who ebbs between his previous self of Badaf Yar and who he is now, Kuruk Ren, armored with his rifle and weaponry still struggling amidst the snow and hail. Trudgen is still Rinigar, the young Jedi of pale alabaster complexion, throwing aside his white cape and pointing his lightsaber towards Wr'kel. "Brother Ren. You know how this ends."
Wr'kel's eyes widen, and he pulls Kassida towards him. "No. You cannot take her again." Ap'lek does not realize that all that is left of his previous life of Wr'kel is just his exposed head- his entire form, vestments and equipment are that of Ap'lek Ren. Kassida sees this, and draws her lightsaber to defend herself, the yellow blade reflecting gold against we Knights, as she hisses that which we have superseded. "Sith. I will die before you take Wr'kel and those of Master Skywalker for your own...!"
I find myself in my own overcoat, helmet and my scythe upon my back once more, the wind howling for a moment as the ice pelts my form before I am pulled once more facing Kassida Bev. This time, it is as we remember it- the night our Master emerged from the rubble a changed man. "We are the Knights of Ren, Jedi-" I begin, taking a step forward, unslinging my phrik scythe and challenging the once-dead Jedi I called my friend. "-and we have come for you."
Kassida rushes forward, clashing with Ap'lek/Wr'kel, before we are beset upon by the other Jedi that Skywalker was training - the wandering Rodian Aruxul, the aristocratic Fynos Zel and the force-sensitive Twi'lek rebel Hidira Ghenn, whom I saved from the Imperial Remnant on a mission I remember all too well. If Kassida Bev was Wr'kel's, then Hidira Ghenn was Jerenn Col's. We clash. Reliving the night that Ben Solo showed us the path to the Dark Side.
He told us, showed us, fought alongside us and declared we need not fear the dark side as the Jedi do.
That nothing will stand in our way.
But here and now, between this reliving of our rebellion against Skywalker, between the smoke, the fire and ultimately the blood of the destruction of our once-home, our once-friends and the storm planet Exogol we find ourselves on- we falter. We feel the pull of the light, the power of Ashla that threatens our mission that Lord Snoke has tasked us. I see Ushar being pushed into the ground, his staff broken in two by Fynos Zel, who uses the Force to activate all the thermal detonators Ushar carries upon himself remotely. "It's over Sith!" Zel threatens Ushar as the thermal detonators unclasp from his rigging and float about Ushar's head.
"Surrender, and I will see you treated fairly!" Ushar is unfazed, raising his hand against the tide of pure Force that is holding him in place on the ground. "You always liked to gloat Fynos. Even when we convinced you to leave your family on Canto Bight and become greater than what you could imagine, you still cannot buy the noble bearing that you so desperately want to be seen as." Calling upon the rage, the hatred and anger from Bogan, Ushar threw back all the thermal detonators encircling his head and detonated them at Fynos Zel all at once.
Kassida Bev is engaged between Trudgen and Ap'lek, as it begins to rain, just as they remembered. Wr'kel ebbs between moments, when he appears, it is defending Kassida against Trudgen, and when he shifts to Ap'lek, it is him using his beskar axe as a means of reach in tandem with his own lightsaber. "Stop! It doesn't have to be this way!" Wr'kel exclaims, striking against Trudgen before Ap'lek snarls and threatens Kassida. "Your powers are weak, dearest Kassida! Ashla cannot stand before the might of the Dark Side!"
"Never!" Kassida crosses beams with Ap'lek and Trudgen both. "You took Wr'kel from me, and Master Skywalker's dream...!" Kassida never finished her sentence, as Kuruk's sniper rifle punched a whole through her body, ripping off her torso and arm from the shoulder. "NO!!!" there was a dual scream from both Wr'kel and the Rodian Jedi Aruxul, who leapt into the fray from fighting me, and took on Kuruk head-on. I sensed Ashla ebb away from Aruxul as he brought his lightsaber to bear against a Kuruk caught off-guard, while Bogan creeped about him, fueling his growing anger.
All that was left was Hirida Ghenn, who held out her green lightsaber against me in challenge. "Well, Sith?" She began. "Get on with it. I don't have all night." The rain was pouring now, the fires from the Temple's destruction having gone out. All that was left was the glow from our lightsabers and their hiss against the rain. I holstered my scythe once again, before igniting my lightsaber. "To you, C'yarika." I greeted her as I once saw Master Dooku greet his sparring partners in those faraway days when Master Skywalker taught us from the surviving records of the Jedi. Hirida sneered at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. Just as I remember like it was yesterday.
"I could never love you."
I froze for an instant, before I felt Bogan envelop me and push me forward. Although the Master was lost to us, this battle would not be. Not for the sake of Lord Snoke's final command. Not against the loss of our Master, who showed us the power of the Dark Side. Not against the weakness of Ashla, and certainly not against something which was of the past.
"Let the past die." Lord Snoke's voice echoed through the void, breaking through the moment at the temple and delivering the Knights of Ren clarity, reminding them of the unforgiving nature they still stood in the middle of Exogol, between their starship Scimitar and the wound in the Force they must drive back. "Kill it , if you have to." This time the echo was from their Master, Kylo Ren.
Ben Solo now.
Hated enemy of the Light who rejoined those of the Ashla. The woman Rey. She was the one- the one who made the Master weak... Weak with desire.
Passion.
Compassion.
Confusion.
Longing.
Love...?
I did not realize I was shouting, having dashed forward and cut down Hirida. She did not have time to react, just like she did that night, as I drank deep from her death and reveled in the energies of Bogan, of the Dark Side. Wr'kel was sobbing over Kassida Bev, and the other Knights, Trudgen, Kuruk and Ushar all stood about him, waiting for me, when we had waited for the Master to direct us next. I regarded the sorry excuse for Jedi before me in Wr'kel, dumbstruck at the loss of Kassida. We all felt it, but Ap'lek needed to be brought back to Bogan. It would have us, since we were sworn to it.
"Enough, Ap'lek Ren." I gestured sharply, sweeping my hand across the air before him in a motion that silenced all. "Remember what our Master told us. Let the past die."
"We must kill it if we have to." Trudgen continued.
"This is the only way to be what you are meant to be." Kuruk affirmed.
Ushar handed him Kassida's lightsaber, which was his own now. "The path of Bogan is a pathway to many abilities-" Ushar began, looking at me to finish once more. But the answer came from Ap'lek, who fought off the wound in the Force, overcoming its power. "-some consider to be unnatural. But we know better." Ap'lek looked up at all of us, his mask betraying no remorse or pity. Our brother was among us once again. "Yes. We are the ones who would tame Bogan itself. We are that which we will always be-"
"Knights of Ren, loyal to the Master."
"To Lord Snoke."
"To Bogan itself."
There was a silence once more among us, the only sound was the distant screaming of the winds and ice and hail of Exogol as it returned, and we found ourselves amid the snow, the storm and distant lightning once more. We regarded each other with careful glances, before I spoke on what we had experienced. "The wound in the Force its... a window into the past, a static current in the ebb of time."
"Little wonder that Lord Snoke wanted it to be sealed. Such knowledge and power could begin a dangerous precedent." Ap'lek mused, studying Kassida's lightsaber he held in his hand. Ushar looked towards the mountain-cut keep in the distance that was our mission. "It lies there. This 'window' into the past. It seemed so real..." Kuruk stamped an armored boot into the inches-thick snow. "It WAS real. We ventured into what could be a stream in time's river. All death is still etched in stone, there are no loops amidst the Force. I felt it."
"We all did." Trudgen asserted, then drew his hand into a fist before unclenching it and proposing a dangerous idea of his own. "The question now is... Without the Master who led us on this path, and without Lord Snoke, do we carry out his final command to seal it..." My eyes widened behind my mask as I felt the weighing of the Dark Side across all of us. The electric pull as the words bubbled from behind my consciousness once again, as it always did.
"...or do we use it... Bring order to the Galaxy that was promised to us?" All five of us looked towards the icy keep that seemed out of reach, but now was never more closer with what we realize has been delivered to us. We immersed ourselves fully within Bogan to withstand whatever may come our way on our march to the source of the wound in the Force.
"Nothing will stand in our way. Lord Snoke and the Master taught us the secrets of the Dark Side." I declare, and my fellow Knights raise their fists briefly before joining me towards our objective. "We will finish what they started."
It is a place of shimmering snow, biting winds and lightning abound. Each of the different winds' chill cuts deep into our forms, and we find ourselves gritting our teeth against the tempestuous weather after we disembark on the storm planet. We have made landfall on the blasted world of Exogol.
Our helmets, armor and layered tunics help insulate us against the planet's hostile temperament, but that is the needless physical protection, a weakness that Lord Snoke showed us to withstand. The raging environment screams around us as we venture further towards our destination, and we recognize this feeling, this growing presence as we march onward. The planet is broken, yes- but not through any natural cataclysm.
Exogol's latent fury is none other than the Dark Side rending the planet apart along it's leylines crisscrossing under its tectonic plates.
"Incredible." Ushar manages a gasp over the howling wind, probably the sixth out of Exogol's catalogued 24. The records recovered from one of Darth Sidious's storehouses informed them us as much. "I feel it... The power. It's rawness..." The mandibles of Ushar's helmet uncouple and recouple themselves, as if adapting to the storm of pelting hail and screaming air. Kuruk takes stock of the situation, finishing off Ushar's observation. "Bogan is not just strong here, it is absolute. I thought Korriban or Dromund Kaas to be powerful, steeped in it. But here..."
Trudgen gestures toward the jagged shape on the horizon, the bare outline of a mountain range, glaciers... The strange rough outline of a citadel carved out of the very edge of the ice stares back at us. "The coordinates Lord Snoke dispatched us on! The Tourniquet for the Wound in the Force must be there!" We make fists to affirm that we understand, and keep moving towards the frozen claws, scratching against the wretched sky of Exogol. I turn about to see how the my brothers fare, and Ap'lek reaches out, grabbing my shoulder and urging me forward. "Come brother Ren." Ap'lek gives me a ghost of a nod, as I sense him smiling, his words encouraging. "We carry out this last command of Lord Snoke before we deal with our traitor Master. Like you said. Like you promised."
"Like I promised..." I whisper, and suddenly I am back at Luke Skywalker's academy, with my fellow Brothers-in-arms... And looking about the smiling faces of those who were struck down.
"Jerenn?" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. Burdened with knowledge, with restraint- but with none of the harsh wit that I would come to know. "Master...!" I begin, my arms raised, seeing I am in my former robes of a Jedi. Kylo Ren- he stands unarmored before me, in this time before, when he was only-
"Please. I'm no one's Master. I have a lot to learn about the Force myself, Jerenn." I take stock of the situation, it makes no sense whatsoever. "Of course, Ben." I state politely, trying to sound as normal as possible, while the words echo in my lie as something distasteful, disgusting. "Master Skywalker knows best."
"Vicrul!" I hear a frantic whisper from behind me. Ushar is as he was, dressed in cream and white robes, his brown hair covering the scar he bore on a mission to free Imperial Remnant slavers. As he drew nearer in a few steps, our memories eternal of our shared past as students to Skywalker began to show cracks. "We are still on Exogol." Ushar said plainly. Everything was as it was- the fledgling academy, our Master, when he was still Ben Solo... And us. We still bore the eyes of Bogan, the Dark Side still about us.
"Is this an illusion?" I wonder aloud, and Ushar looks about once again as well. "It seems too real. FEELS too real, Brother Ren." He points towards Ap'lek, who is with one of our fellow Jedi, walking together. Before he was Ap'lek, he was Wr'kel, and we knew he was smitten with another of our own, the beautiful Kassida Bev. Despite Wr'kel being Kiffar and she being a Zabrak, we all knew of their passion for each other. "This is the past." I breathe, my breath quickening. I call upon the Force and force my way from this illusion. "If it is one." I mutter under my breath, cursing as the Jedi robes seem to chafe against me, as if all of Ashla is bearing down upon my form.
"It's hard to tell. From what I can gather... Either this is Bogan itself screaming at us to stay away..." Ushar responds to my silent cursing, while Kuruk appears as he was, when he was simply Badaf Yar. "Or the wound in the Force is nothing like we've known." He turns our attention to Wr'kel, who has finished his leisurely stroll with Kassida and now comes face to face with the three of us, we Knights of Ren.
Wr'kel's eyes are that of ours.
Immersed in the Dark Side. In Bogan.
He is taking advantage of this vision, this moment, to relive the bliss he had before we made our vow at the edge of the Master's lightsaber, before the will of Lord Snoke, before Bogan itself. Before we did what had to be done.
"Ap'lek." Trudgen reveals himself, his white cape a Stark contrast to his gray Jedi robes betraying his inner darkness early on even then when they were still training under Skywalker. His skin was ashen-grey, his hair hung in neat combs, appearing as he did in the past, but like us, the eyes of Bogan were present. "How fares lovely Kassida?" Wr'kel is surprised to see Ushar, Kuruk and I, but spins round to see Trudgen, whom he calls by the name only those of the Ashla use. "Rinigar." Wr'kel gasps. "By the Force, this is no vision, no wound. It is a new beginning."
Already I sense Trudgen's growing anger at Wr'kel's - at Ap'lek's vanity and self-serving motivations. But it gave me pause. Were these not the driving forces of the Sith? Of those who used the Dark Side... The power of Bogan, to keep, to possess... To control? Passions were but a part of the promise of Bogan, compared to the Jedi's attachment to things and sentients. "-But Master Skywalker has done away with the traditions." Wr'kel responds, and I realize that he has answered my own question deep in the recesses of my thoughts.
"The Force wound is larger, spreading." I point at Wr'kel, as images of who he was and who he is begin to overlap. "It's power is more than we could imagine, and we can probably handle. We must reassert ourselves in Bogan, and close the wound at it's edge! Then we find Lord Snoke's 'Tourniquet' for this wound." I look at Ushar, who has reasserted himself in Bogan, and his familiar mandibled helmet and tunic greet me with his staff in hand, the other arm resting across his chest in a salute with an iota of lingering respect towards us.
I turn to Kuruk, who ebbs between his previous self of Badaf Yar and who he is now, Kuruk Ren, armored with his rifle and weaponry still struggling amidst the snow and hail. Trudgen is still Rinigar, the young Jedi of pale alabaster complexion, throwing aside his white cape and pointing his lightsaber towards Wr'kel. "Brother Ren. You know how this ends."
Wr'kel's eyes widen, and he pulls Kassida towards him. "No. You cannot take her again." Ap'lek does not realize that all that is left of his previous life of Wr'kel is just his exposed head- his entire form, vestments and equipment are that of Ap'lek Ren. Kassida sees this, and draws her lightsaber to defend herself, the yellow blade reflecting gold against we Knights, as she hisses that which we have superseded. "Sith. I will die before you take Wr'kel and those of Master Skywalker for your own...!"
I find myself in my own overcoat, helmet and my scythe upon my back once more, the wind howling for a moment as the ice pelts my form before I am pulled once more facing Kassida Bev. This time, it is as we remember it- the night our Master emerged from the rubble a changed man. "We are the Knights of Ren, Jedi-" I begin, taking a step forward, unslinging my phrik scythe and challenging the once-dead Jedi I called my friend. "-and we have come for you."
Kassida rushes forward, clashing with Ap'lek/Wr'kel, before we are beset upon by the other Jedi that Skywalker was training - the wandering Rodian Aruxul, the aristocratic Fynos Zel and the force-sensitive Twi'lek rebel Hidira Ghenn, whom I saved from the Imperial Remnant on a mission I remember all too well. If Kassida Bev was Wr'kel's, then Hidira Ghenn was Jerenn Col's. We clash. Reliving the night that Ben Solo showed us the path to the Dark Side.
He told us, showed us, fought alongside us and declared we need not fear the dark side as the Jedi do.
That nothing will stand in our way.
But here and now, between this reliving of our rebellion against Skywalker, between the smoke, the fire and ultimately the blood of the destruction of our once-home, our once-friends and the storm planet Exogol we find ourselves on- we falter. We feel the pull of the light, the power of Ashla that threatens our mission that Lord Snoke has tasked us. I see Ushar being pushed into the ground, his staff broken in two by Fynos Zel, who uses the Force to activate all the thermal detonators Ushar carries upon himself remotely. "It's over Sith!" Zel threatens Ushar as the thermal detonators unclasp from his rigging and float about Ushar's head.
"Surrender, and I will see you treated fairly!" Ushar is unfazed, raising his hand against the tide of pure Force that is holding him in place on the ground. "You always liked to gloat Fynos. Even when we convinced you to leave your family on Canto Bight and become greater than what you could imagine, you still cannot buy the noble bearing that you so desperately want to be seen as." Calling upon the rage, the hatred and anger from Bogan, Ushar threw back all the thermal detonators encircling his head and detonated them at Fynos Zel all at once.
Kassida Bev is engaged between Trudgen and Ap'lek, as it begins to rain, just as they remembered. Wr'kel ebbs between moments, when he appears, it is defending Kassida against Trudgen, and when he shifts to Ap'lek, it is him using his beskar axe as a means of reach in tandem with his own lightsaber. "Stop! It doesn't have to be this way!" Wr'kel exclaims, striking against Trudgen before Ap'lek snarls and threatens Kassida. "Your powers are weak, dearest Kassida! Ashla cannot stand before the might of the Dark Side!"
"Never!" Kassida crosses beams with Ap'lek and Trudgen both. "You took Wr'kel from me, and Master Skywalker's dream...!" Kassida never finished her sentence, as Kuruk's sniper rifle punched a whole through her body, ripping off her torso and arm from the shoulder. "NO!!!" there was a dual scream from both Wr'kel and the Rodian Jedi Aruxul, who leapt into the fray from fighting me, and took on Kuruk head-on. I sensed Ashla ebb away from Aruxul as he brought his lightsaber to bear against a Kuruk caught off-guard, while Bogan creeped about him, fueling his growing anger.
All that was left was Hirida Ghenn, who held out her green lightsaber against me in challenge. "Well, Sith?" She began. "Get on with it. I don't have all night." The rain was pouring now, the fires from the Temple's destruction having gone out. All that was left was the glow from our lightsabers and their hiss against the rain. I holstered my scythe once again, before igniting my lightsaber. "To you, C'yarika." I greeted her as I once saw Master Dooku greet his sparring partners in those faraway days when Master Skywalker taught us from the surviving records of the Jedi. Hirida sneered at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. Just as I remember like it was yesterday.
"I could never love you."
I froze for an instant, before I felt Bogan envelop me and push me forward. Although the Master was lost to us, this battle would not be. Not for the sake of Lord Snoke's final command. Not against the loss of our Master, who showed us the power of the Dark Side. Not against the weakness of Ashla, and certainly not against something which was of the past.
"Let the past die." Lord Snoke's voice echoed through the void, breaking through the moment at the temple and delivering the Knights of Ren clarity, reminding them of the unforgiving nature they still stood in the middle of Exogol, between their starship Scimitar and the wound in the Force they must drive back. "Kill it , if you have to." This time the echo was from their Master, Kylo Ren.
Ben Solo now.
Hated enemy of the Light who rejoined those of the Ashla. The woman Rey. She was the one- the one who made the Master weak... Weak with desire.
Passion.
Compassion.
Confusion.
Longing.
Love...?
I did not realize I was shouting, having dashed forward and cut down Hirida. She did not have time to react, just like she did that night, as I drank deep from her death and reveled in the energies of Bogan, of the Dark Side. Wr'kel was sobbing over Kassida Bev, and the other Knights, Trudgen, Kuruk and Ushar all stood about him, waiting for me, when we had waited for the Master to direct us next. I regarded the sorry excuse for Jedi before me in Wr'kel, dumbstruck at the loss of Kassida. We all felt it, but Ap'lek needed to be brought back to Bogan. It would have us, since we were sworn to it.
"Enough, Ap'lek Ren." I gestured sharply, sweeping my hand across the air before him in a motion that silenced all. "Remember what our Master told us. Let the past die."
"We must kill it if we have to." Trudgen continued.
"This is the only way to be what you are meant to be." Kuruk affirmed.
Ushar handed him Kassida's lightsaber, which was his own now. "The path of Bogan is a pathway to many abilities-" Ushar began, looking at me to finish once more. But the answer came from Ap'lek, who fought off the wound in the Force, overcoming its power. "-some consider to be unnatural. But we know better." Ap'lek looked up at all of us, his mask betraying no remorse or pity. Our brother was among us once again. "Yes. We are the ones who would tame Bogan itself. We are that which we will always be-"
"Knights of Ren, loyal to the Master."
"To Lord Snoke."
"To Bogan itself."
There was a silence once more among us, the only sound was the distant screaming of the winds and ice and hail of Exogol as it returned, and we found ourselves amid the snow, the storm and distant lightning once more. We regarded each other with careful glances, before I spoke on what we had experienced. "The wound in the Force its... a window into the past, a static current in the ebb of time."
"Little wonder that Lord Snoke wanted it to be sealed. Such knowledge and power could begin a dangerous precedent." Ap'lek mused, studying Kassida's lightsaber he held in his hand. Ushar looked towards the mountain-cut keep in the distance that was our mission. "It lies there. This 'window' into the past. It seemed so real..." Kuruk stamped an armored boot into the inches-thick snow. "It WAS real. We ventured into what could be a stream in time's river. All death is still etched in stone, there are no loops amidst the Force. I felt it."
"We all did." Trudgen asserted, then drew his hand into a fist before unclenching it and proposing a dangerous idea of his own. "The question now is... Without the Master who led us on this path, and without Lord Snoke, do we carry out his final command to seal it..." My eyes widened behind my mask as I felt the weighing of the Dark Side across all of us. The electric pull as the words bubbled from behind my consciousness once again, as it always did.
"...or do we use it... Bring order to the Galaxy that was promised to us?" All five of us looked towards the icy keep that seemed out of reach, but now was never more closer with what we realize has been delivered to us. We immersed ourselves fully within Bogan to withstand whatever may come our way on our march to the source of the wound in the Force.
"Nothing will stand in our way. Lord Snoke and the Master taught us the secrets of the Dark Side." I declare, and my fellow Knights raise their fists briefly before joining me towards our objective. "We will finish what they started."
Episode 9 begins. Knights of Ren being fking badass while more on what came before is explored upon. Last Jedi (mostly) intact for the Soyboys. Contains donut steals written wholecloth and some concepts from my own footnotes of TLJ that I thought needed to be expanded upon to drive things forward logically. Hope you enjoy the second part of The Master Calls.
