CHAPTER NINE
Benor Sardan's cloak billowed as he trudged through the snowy landscape of Belsavis. In his hand, the Sith holocron he had taken from Scur Bodalla pulsed with dark side energy, attempting to persuade him to activate it and search it in full.
He resisted its temptations. He had grown use to the dark long ago.
It had come to his surprise and slight disappointment that the holocron was not that of Darth Necrosis- in all likelihood, this one got switched with Necrosis' holocron. Instead, it belonged to a Sith Lord named Darth Fatalis, who ruled the New Sith Empire after the death of the Dark Underlord. The holocron had then directed Sardan to Belsavis and he could not help but follow the trail.
Ever since his apprenticeship, he had been fascinated with the Sith; not necessarily to train in their arts and become one but rather to simply learn and study them and their history. His master, of course, had warned him that doing so could only lead to the dark side, but Sardan disagreed.
After what felt like hours of trudging through snow, Sardan finally reached what he presumed to be his destination: an old cabin located in the middle of nowhere. Plodding towards the shelter's front door, he took notice of the Aurebesh characters carved into the wood. He couldn't make out what they read, for they appeared to have been made in haste, but he could decipher several instances of the word "Sith."
Reaching out with the Force, he searched for any signs of a threat. When he found none, he cautiously knocked on the door. To his surprise, it instantly swung open and a long, skinny green arm pulled him inside. As the door closed behind him, Sardan saw that the cabin's sole occupant was a tall male Ho'Din, and the only things inside besides them was a bed, some cooking appliances, and a small table with a chair.
Looking up at the Ho'Din, Sardan saw that the green-skinned alien's pupil-less black eyes were filled with concern.
"Why have you come here?" the Ho'Din asked. "No one ever treks through this part of Belsavis... meaning that you've been searching for me."
"Not you specifically," Sardan said. "I was led here by this Sith holocron."
Upon seeing the relic, the Ho'Din's eyes widened in terror and he instantly backed away, cowering. "Where... where did you get that?" he moaned.
"A Black Sun Vigo on Eriadu, though I'm sure it originated from the Jedi Archives." Sardan frowned at the alien's expression. "Is there something wrong?"
The Ho'Din's snake-like hair wiggled as he nodded. "That is the holocron of... of the Winter Lord. Darth Fatalis."
"Winter Lord? What is that supposed to mean?"
The tall alien fell to his knees, clutching his head. "His fur was as white as snow. None saw him coming before it was too late. My predecessor fell at his hands."
Sardan crouched down to be at eye-level with the Ho'Din. "You say predecessor as if you held a unique rank. What, exactly, is it that you do? Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?"
The Ho'Din sobbed as he answered. "Eons ago, this world was touched by the Rakata. They left behind... a trinket of theirs. Something... that attracted the Sith's interest."
"What is it?"
"A mindspear," the Ho'Din said quietly. "It allows one to transfer their memories into another body."
The tall alien stared at him meaningfully. "In a way... it grants one immortality."
* * *
Loth's eyes scanned through the list of human male Jedi who were out and about in the galaxy, along with the planet they were last known heading for.
Valin Horn, Leritor. Jaden Korr, Fhost. Noran Raun, H'ratth. Anakin Solo, Susevfi.
As he finished examining each holographic visage that accompanied each name, Loth sighed and handed the datapad back to the Anx Jedi Master standing before him.
"I'm sorry, Master Madurrin, but none of these match the Jedi I saw on Eriadu."
Madurrin dipped her large head. "Do you know what color blade he wielded?"
"Violet," Loth replied. "And I believe his robes were gray rather than the traditional brown."
The Jedi Master scratched her pointed chin. "There is... one Jedi who matches that description."
"Who?"
"Benor Sardan. Three years ago, he left his master to pursue his studies of the Sith. He has since been declared rogue and, as we call them, a Gray Jedi. Unfortunately, we know nothing of his current whereabouts."
"Well then," Loth said with a grin. "Good thing I am infinitely patient when it comes to finding things."
* * *
Silence had fallen upon Sardan and the Ho'Din for a while until the former said, "Do you know of an order of Sith around these parts?"
The alien slowly nodded. "They've been forging alliances with criminal factions such as the Black Sun. I've heard rumors that they've also been speaking with the Hutts and the Mandalorians."
"Do you happen to know a current location of the Black Sun?"
The Ho'Din thought for a moment before saying, "Lok, I believe. One of the Feeorin pirates there was recently made a Vigo."
"Then that will be my next stop."
However, as Sardan got to his feet, the Ho'Din reached up and seized his arm.
"Don't," the green-skinned alien said urgently. "Only death and darkness awaits you. Your actions will do nothing to prevent what is about to come."
Sardan wrenched his arm free from the Ho'Din's grip. "Well," he said, "someone has to do it."
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