Seeing something that could crush him like a bug coming towards him, at quite a clip at that, Mal started getting a bit nervous. And sloppy. The rust finally showed through, as he tripped over some rock he hadn't really seen. Yelling out in a choice string of expletives, the Storm Trooper fell onto his back. Thankfully he was leaning towards his legs due to his pack, or getting up easily would have been somewhat out of the question.

Noting what he knew to be a lightsaber at his side Mal reached for it. It might come in useful, assuming he didn't end up as a hot cake on the bottom of the moving mountain's foot... claw thing. The odds of that were looking increasingly unlikely as he had also lost the concussion grenade. That was twice today that he'd lost a grip on an explosive, and that was something his instructors would never let him live down if he ever saw them again.

For some reason he could feel the grenade off to the side, but there was no way for him to even begin to figure out how to get to the thing.

Grabbing the cohesive bar of light at it's hilt, Mal rolled out of the lumbering beasts way. What was irritating about the situation was that the saber's pack was... elsewhere. Cursing again, this time under his breath, Mal managed to get up before the great beast managed to turn towards him, and so using what leeway he had from the cord, Mal slashed at the creature's side, hoping it would make some wound on the creatures underbelly as it moved past him.

The blaster shot hit the Killik in the eye, which surely didn't do much more than enrage it. Anakin was shook from his stupor and readied the crimson lightsaber in his hand, looking to Isis and nodding to Driggs. "Agreed." The five Sith backed away as one, defending the one at the rear who had yet to ignite his weapon. Workan pressed a hand to a wall as he passed it, which dutifully opened - to his surprise - and Workan vanished through the gap. The remaining four Sabers nodded, understanding their role, and then sped as the corridor opened up behind them into a wider room; giving their numerical advantage space to be used.

Anakin, Isis and Driggs had their opponents on the back foot, but not defeated. Anakin's eyes were searching for whatever portal that the fifth Sith had found, but he couldn't focus, sensing that Isis was fading. "Driggs, can you do something historical and work out the glyphs?"

Behind them, a wet slap sounded as the monstrous Killik fell through the roof, momentarily stunned by its sudden fall. The Sith began readying blasters and throwing knifes. And then promptly began pounding the trio with attacks, keeping them pinned - and not providing them with many options either way. They didn't have much time for Driggs to save them.

Tossing the body of Zey away, the Rakatan Holocron looked to the Mandalorian Hob Bob, and the professor, and actually smiled. It was a Rakatan smile, but one nonetheless. The Holocron levitated itself over to the Kel Dor, and began examining him. "Yes... yes..."

In the Blob, however, Mal Judder had plenty to worry about as it was. The Kolosolok advanced, as Mal made every effort to whip it, and, with a slam down of its foot, sent him flying back - out of the Blob. He rolled across the stone floor, still gripping the weapon he had discovered, and felt something flood back into him. It was the Force, but not that Mal would know that the Blob had cut him off from it as part of its history mechanism. The Kolosolok's head began to push through, and Mal could recognise the creature as what it was by looking at the Rakatan Holocron, now peering over a stunned Kel Dor in front of a downed shuttle.

The Blob was a Celestial Holocron, and, after millennia of being bent by the Dark Side of the Force, had crossed the divide from data to reality at some point. He could also sense his grenade, across the void of time and space. It was mind-boggling, but in a few seconds a massive Kolosolok was about to follow him into this world...

The tide of Killiks made for easy killing by Hoole, of that there was no doubt, and he quickly made his way to where the group had initially split apart. In that chamber gravity had reestablished itself, and the cavern branched off in three places still. One way, below where the tunnel had dropped him unceremoninously off, behind him, another, before him, following the strange cables down into the depths - where the stink of death filled the Force - and above him, a tunnel that seemed to go up, into the heart of the mountain atop this strange construct. In the Force, Hoole would be able to sense that there was a confrontation going on in either direction, and the dark side of the Force was prevalent in each area.

But in this cavern there was a whirlwind of Killiks, all snapping and gnashing their teeth at the creature. A memory rose, unbidden, of Xenly's sudden fear, six years earlier, declaring that the Old Ones had returned. The Killiks were not a threat, were they? In the center of the Killiks, on the far wall, an explosion rang out, and through it came what could only be described as an eye - a metal eye, surrounded by vanes and wings. Ship.

The Sith Meditation Sphere ignored the Killiks, and they snapped their claws at both Hoole and the vessel. It reached into Hoole's mind, and spoke. You are a dark one, too, I see.

Identify yourself.

In her madness, Darth Insipid understood that she didn't get it. The sarlacc had the double mentality of a Joiner, just like she was so close to having. As far as Insipid could tell, anyway, buffeting himself in the storm of sarlacc tentacles and its snapping maw. Insipid was a dervish of violence, having lost his second lightsaber in the confusion and barely hanging on to the one his grandmother had crafted for him ten years earlier.

With a scowl, he watched as Cara Ta'Manis - for he knew the identities of everyone on-world - leap to the far end of the cave, away from his blade. The sarlacc seemed just as infuriated, and reached for her, flaying with its tentacles to drive Cara back towards the orange-glow that was coming from near her, towards the tunnel she had nearly made it to before the sarlacc struck - at Insipid's suggestion. Coasting the veins of Gorog power, he had tapped into the Sarlaccs mind, while Gorog was focused on Cara.

Because it was fairly clear what was about to happen.

Insipid snapped at her. "Don't let Gorog get you! Don't you understand?"

And then the cavern walls began to shake, crumbling with the exertion of something. The disturbance was focused on the wall leading back the direction that Cara had came, conveyed by Killiks while in her delusional trip to Korriban thirty millennia earlier. From that wall burst tentacles - plant-like, not flesh - that began to ensnare the weakened Sarlacc. That thing at the heart of Shadow had taken advantage of Insipid and Cara distracting Gorog to destroy its enemies all.

Now it was a fight between a Sarlacc, Gorog, Insipid and a monster - and with an insane Cara in the middle of it. The orange-glow seemed more enticing to her, and Killiks began boiling into the impromptu arena, all attacking the plant-tentacles and billowing around to defend Cara from - everything.

A single telepathic command rang out in Cara's mind.

"Come to me!"

"Now!"

In the middle of blaster fire and a world rocked by detonations, Alec managed to get a crushgaunt on the Barabel's lower jaw, which dutifully clamped shut on his hand and began gnawing at the beskar. The Barabel's hands vised for Alec's neck, while its tale entangled Alec's other arm.

The shaking became more insistent, as if the entire area was shaking from beneath, and Alec and Draco were bowled through the violence as something rocky pushed up beneath them, nudging them into the violence. Fin got a glance of the Mandalorian and Barabel rolling away from what appeared to be some kind of mechanism that was opening in the depths, and then they were gone from his sight; they had fallen down the same opening the sparkly-robed Prophet had taken.

Alec and Draco rolled down the steps, and pushed with his feet down on the Barabel, the push coinciding with them rebounding off the steps and hitting the floor; Alec pushed Draco on to the floor, with bone-crushing force, the weight of his body falling on the Barabel's chest. A snap, and a gurgle, and then the Barabel fell, pliant.

Blaster fire rang out above them still, but, for a beautiful moment, there was silence in the tomb. And then a cackle.

Deeper.

A single tunnel ran into the depths.

There were, worryingly, black armoured corpses all along the floor. Burning torches lined the walls - no, flickering bulbs - illuminating various bodies. One with spears protruding from armour plates and seams. The second, with what appeared to be melt damage from a pool of liquid chewing into the soldiers head. All that could be seen of another was a leg, protruding from the middle of the wall. Of another, there was a single helmet - seemingly not empty, just missing the rest of it.

A blaze of blaster fire rippled down from the entrance, burning pits into the stone, a bolt chipping a chunk of beskar from Alec's shoulder. A few moments later, three of surviving the mercs came down, firing up at the Stormtroopers that spat fire back down at them. Nobody had noticed him; yet.

Leaving behind Stormtroopers and mercs to shoot themselves to death, Alec, in the guise of Mandalore Fenn Shysa, rushed down the tunnels. There were several smoking chunks of masonry, and the occasional area where the corpses were riddled with what appeared to be beskar daggers. In one place, a Stormtrooper lay on the ground, his armour pristine, but blood seeping from between his joints. It made no sense - none at all. Mechanisms were evident throughout the depths, but they were so aged it was impossible to identify their origin.

And then he arrived in the center of the tomb, and, laying there, surrounded by water which had oozed in through the cracks in the walls, was a single creature. It was red-skinned, at least nominally, and humanoid, the swampy water seemingly preserving the body through what could only be millennia, from what could be told, but it was clearly missing an arm, which had been replaced by what appeared to be some kind of insectile limb - Alec had seen nothing like it, and wouldn't again, for the next thirty six years.

But what was more concerning was this;

It had no head, whatever it was.

"So. You're Fenn Shysa, Mandalore of the Supercommandos. The survivor of Mindor."

Behind Alec, there now stood a man in glittering Prophet robes, bracketed by the walls of the little sarcophagus. He was disheveled, blood welling somewhere on his face, beneath an unpleasant beard which was evidently all growth in the past few weeks. He did not introduce himself, but he had one hand on his chest. In the other he held a small pyramid, adorned with glyphs that matched those scattered around the walls. "I know so much, Alec Stuko."

"So much."

"I understand what this was."

"Or is."

"Or maybe what it will become."

The man cackled, spittle emerging from his mouth, and as he leaned over himself to hack a cough, his hood fell, revealing a face that belonged to the once secretive 'Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side' - the successor to Kadann and Cronal. He had deposed the leader of the Sith Empire - one Darth Sanguinis - and had vanished shortly thereafter, his personal vessel, the Insipid, destroyed by rogue pirates shortly after. What was left of the Sith Empire was quickly collapsing, at least when Alec had left for this mission.

"Oh yes," said Garen Kya, pulling himself back up. "I recall now. Little Mandalore. Attacked by an unknown Imperial faction, nobody claiming responsibility. I remember. That would be because I authorised that little strike. And now Mandalore belongs to Zsinj!"

The Prophet laughed. "I will be reborn! I will become a true Sith, with this!" Kya brought the little pyramid forward, grinning. "And nobody, especially you're Mandalorian ilk, will stop me! I am no Lumiya! For I am Darth Rem!" With a hacking cough, Kya/Rem moved his hand from his wound and shoved Alec back with the Force - into the swampy water, and into the corpse, which abruptly collapsed into murky dust - and then opened up with a burst of Force lightning - energy which would be conducted by the metal Alec wore, and by the liquid surrounding him.

If he didn't do something quick, he would die - here, and now, at the hands of a madman.

Tossing the body of Zey away, the Rakatan Holocron looked to the Mandalorian Hob Bob, and the professor, and actually smiled. It was a Rakatan smile, but one nonetheless. The Holocron levitated itself over to the Kel Dor, and began examining him. "Yes... yes..."

In the Blob, however, Mal Judder had plenty to worry about as it was. The Kolosolok advanced, as Mal made every effort to whip it, and, with a slam down of its foot, sent him flying back - out of the Blob. He rolled across the stone floor, still gripping the weapon he had discovered, and felt something flood back into him. It was the Force, but not that Mal would know that the Blob had cut him off from it as part of its history mechanism. The Kolosolok's head began to push through, and Mal could recognise the creature as what it was by looking at the Rakatan Holocron, now peering over a stunned Kel Dor in front of a downed shuttle.

The Blob was a Celestial Holocron, and, after millennia of being bent by the Dark Side of the Force, had crossed the divide from data to reality at some point. He could also sense his grenade, across the void of time and space. It was mind-boggling, but in a few seconds a massive Kolosolok was about to follow him into this world...

---

Zey rolled away, the rumbling sending him falling away. He wasn't quite conscious, but he was being guided by his desperation. He had to get away from these people - away from the Mandalorian, and get back home. He had to. Had to. He rolled down the tunnel, and, slowly, stood.

And I wonder if you are the answer I foolishly expected from some bugs.

Ship floated, expectant. It had, nonetheless, unraveled its physical cannon and laser. The response was clear. Ask.

Where do I find your current Master?

Ship seemed to roll a few degrees to port, as if canting its head. If it could have blinked, it probably would have. Its voice pushed into Hooles mind, again. My 'master' is below, in the depths. But I could have had several masters, in this place. There is one, though, that you will probably seek to destroy... behind you, 'Hoole'.

The flaming eye seemed to look to Hooles right, to the tunnel leading down, deeper into Shadow. Hoole would be able to sense four exits from this place - the one Ship indicated, and the darkness that seemed to be bleeding from it, the one beneath his feet, leading to conflict and violence. The third followed the cables that led down a shrinking gap, while the fourth was above, behind Ship, leading too... perplexities. But it was not the source of the darkness - of this infernal swarm.

"Don´t let Gorg get who?" Cara asked. And shook her head. "Who?" She cackled, and Darth Insipid cursed, but there was little else that he could do. Her laugh grew even louder - and she was gone. Insipid spun away - he could not stop her, and could not force her. She had the Force potential of an entire species behind her, if she so sought. So did Cara, too.

With a snarl, Insipid leaped away from the Sarlacc, in its death spasms. Dancing away from the tentacles and fronds, he spun like a dervish, making himself enough to space to burst free. There was little more to say, nor do - beyond survive. He had failed - and he would die for it. Unless he brought something of value...

He headed towards the violence he felt - the smaller eddies of darkness between the light that seemed to shine defiantly in this dark place.

Cara and the surviving Killiks moved towards the orange glow, and, slowly, it became evident. Gorog was here.

Gorog.

Was.

Here.

"You come at last, my pretty."



"You come at last."

Anakin pushed Isis through the doorway, glyphs and all, and gestured with the Force, slamming it shut with a quick move. Driggs had done it, just about. The room was illuminated, and the tunnel definitely led down, even deeper, if at all possible. "Well?" repeated Anakin. "What do you want? A Peace Prize?" Anakin grinned, running away from the doorway, and turned to Isis - who was quiet. Very quiet. Anakin looked, slowly, as she slumped behind them, eyes closed. Embedded in her chest was it. A glass slither - the dagger snapped off at the hilt, and now it had sunk deep inside her. The tunnels were going deeper, and deeper, into the moons crust - if not core.

She was going - soon to be gone. Anakin blinked tears. "Oh, Isis..."

The Force sung with danger, and from around the tunnel corner came a tall man, draped in a long cloak. He held a lightsaber in his hand. With a long scowl, the man ignited it. Anakin phased out, cocooning the two of them in the Force. "Isis..."

"Foolish Jedi, and your foolish games."

"I shall not play. For I am Workan!"

The Sith raised a hand a pumped a bolt of lightning at Driggs.