Heretic: Reclamation

[Ezra Na'chtion]

Tatooine:

"Ezra. Please. You do not have to leave. You can stay..."

Hazel eyes looked over a shoulder, at the pleading face of a woman. She stood in the doorway of the sand covered home, a hand clutching her chest while the other reached out for him. His mother. The woman who had given birth to him. Funny. In his memory she had always been such a strong woman. An authority figure to look up to, both intelligent beyond comparison and strict without reason. She had to be. How else could she have made it not only into the ranks of the Empire but into the Intelligence branch to boot. It was an accolade few could match, and she had thrown it all away just to bring a life into the world.

His.

Now she looked so frail and weak. A shadow of his memory. Behind her, still hidden in the cool dark of the house, stood the bulky outline of his father. The man said nothing, only looking out through narrowed eyes, as if fighting tears. That was his way. In all the years he had spent under their care Ezra could only remember a scant few times he had ever had a real conversation with that man, but even then he could see it in his face, in his eyes, that he mirrored his wife's feelings.

"I have to go. You cannot stop me." He turned as he spoke, facing away from them, lest they damn him to stay. He could see it, without looking, as his father's face screwed up and turned from sorrow to rage. "You can't go Ezra. You're just a boy!" His voice exploded from within the home, and the sound of boots on sand grain marked his exit from the building. Ezra's face fell, looking down into the ground for a moment before turning once again to face them over shoulder. "No. The boy you knew died a long time ago. You cannot have him back. I cannot stay." And with those final words he left, his boots marching a path through the streets of Anchorhead until they brought him to the spaceport, and the transport waiting for him.

The last time he had left Tatooine like this he had truly been a boy, but a boy with a dream. He wanted to see the galaxy, to learn everything it had to offer. A prodigy. A genius. The galaxy that knew nothing of him when he appeared on the doorsteps of professors and philosophers they fought tooth and nail to wrap their claws around the intellectual youth. They were quickly outgrown. Like a leech he consumed everything they could offer and moved on to the next. However, this path led him down somewhere he had never imagined. A dark path indeed. The Sith Order of Korriban, forged in silence and maintained in secret, learned of the existence of the wonder child and snatched him up for their own devices. And that was where he was headed now. Back to Korriban. Not to reconquer the harsh landscape, but to salvage what was lost.

The transport Evening Glory had a long way to travel from Tatooine to Korriban. Ezra settled himself in for the extremely long trip. The ship was bound for Thule, a nearby planet and with the bribery of some credits was going to drop Ezra off on Korriban in passing. There were other passengers, all to be dropped along the way. He stayed away from them, making a nest for himself in the cargo bay of the starship. A few of the other passengers were also down here, looking over their personal belongings. Likewise Ezra kept a watchful eye on his own possessions. However, his were few in comparison. Two bags made up his luggage. One filled with clothing and personal items, the other filled with books. Old, musty things. They were his only persistent companions through all these years of wandering. His teachers of the Darkside had come and gone, but the books remained.

Ezra had a lot of time to pass. Time to read, and a small library of books on the subject and speculations of Sith Alchemy at his fingertips.

He was not a normal boy.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

The ruckus and noise woke him from his slumber, book still open in his hands. Eyes opened slowly, peeking out through cracks. The cargo hold was not as he left it. Rather, a few of the crew were down here in addition to the other passengers. They were easily identified by their coveralls sporting the name of the starship on the back in a font so stylized it was nigh unreadable. However, rather than just checking up on the passengers this trio of men seemed a bit more intend on other more nefarious dealings. They were currently accosting one of the passengers. Two stood in the way while the third went through bags, pulling out things seemingly at random to stuff into his pockets. It was impossible to tell from here.

Ezra ignored it. It was not his problem. Instead, he laid back again and closed his eyes. His current tome was hand written speculations on the life and alchemic contributions of Exar Kun. Very little of it was based on any fact. It was a collection of rumors and stories like you would hear around a spaceport, and they were difficult to follow and had been quite exhausting to read. He needed to think, to meditate if you would on the words he had ingested. Most of it would not agree with is stomach, he knew, but there had to be at least a pea's worth of nutrition to the batch.

"Hey kiddo. Security check."

Hazel eyes opened again, this time to look up at the same three crewmen. This close he could see the grease stains on their fingers and the dirt embedded in their faces and forearms. Engineers by any other name. "No." He replied, calmly as he moved his leg to place his boot over the top of his book bag. His bag of clothes was currently serving as a cushion. The three men looked at each other, smiled, bumped arms, and laughed in a menacing way. Ezra was not amused. "I know they grow you up stupid on that sand world of yours, but even a little runt like you has to be able to count to three. Your bag. Now."

"No."

"Don't make us hurt you kid."

"Do not fear for my safety. I should insist that you do not make me hurt you."

"You cheeky little bastard, I'm gonna-" He made a move forward, and in that same breath of a moment one of the smaller crates of cargo seemingly slipped from it's perch and landed on the head of one of the two goons in the back, hitting him with enough weight to send him to his knee, dazed. Brushing it off as an effect of the ship jostling the cargo, the thug in thug in command took another step forward and this time grabbed Ezra by the collar of his sandy tunic. A repeat performance saw the other backup goon take a crate to the head. You would think on such a professional ship they would have tied down the cargo a little better.

The entire time Ezra just stared the man in the face, no definite emotion on his face. Sweaty fingers slipped and Ezra was let go. The man picked themselves up and the trio left to accost the other passengers. Ezra was just not worth their time or health. For the rest of their trip they kept their distance, along with other additional members of the crew. Evidently word spreads fast on a small transport starship. Everyone knew to avoid the creepy teenager in the cargo hold.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

"Hi." The timid squeal drew his attention from his book, once again propped open across his knees. Ezra's eyes rose to look into the face of a Rodian child who was sitting on his knees a hands reach away. "Hello." Ezra replied as his attention returned to his book. The subject matter was just becoming interesting. Another chapter finished, and a new one to begin. This one was the chapter he was reading the book for the most, but could not allow himself to skip the previous chapters just to get the part he wanted. The chapter heading was brief. The Undead. There was no more that needed to be said.

Looking up, he noticed the Rodian was still there. "Yes?" He asked, and the boy spoke in Rodian again, a language that Ezra thankfully spoke enough of to understand him. "Why were you not scared of those bad men?" A crumpled piece of paper was slipped into the open book and it's cover pulled shut. He mulled a reply over in his mind, trying to both find a means of breaking it down for the child to understand while equally searching for the answer within himself.

Why was he not afraid? There had been a time when fear had been an object to him, but such a time had only existed in his infancy. For nearly as long as he could remember the galaxy had always just been a thing, something for him to enjoy and take apart. He knew so much, and the galaxy ceased to be such a scary place when you applied too much logic to it and understood the cause and results of just about everything. Even in the face of death on Korriban he had not been afraid. A task was laid out and he followed it through until they escaped the assault that destroyed their order. It had been a chance to learn, and he left that event knowing more about himself and the force than ever before. Everything became a learning experience without fear.

But he could not tell the child his reason for being unafraid was because he was a Sith Alchemist and it took much more than unarmed men and threats of beatings to scare him. Instead, he went with the more child friendly answer. "You have to hide your fear, or people will take advantage of you. I chose to not be afraid, and they could not touch me."

"Wow. I wish I could be as brave as you."

"Do not confuse the two. Bravery is not the absence of fear. Bravery is overcoming fear to accomplish something despite being afraid. I was just not afraid to begin with. I would hardly consider myself brave."

"Can I stay over here with you? I'll be quiet."

"Be my guest." Ezra said in return, crossing his legs while the child hunkered down among the crates and bags to play with what appeared to be a toy starship of horrible condition. The little metal object was bent and dented in so many places he could only imagine it was ancient. He did not even identify the starship it was suppose to resemble. Ignoring the child, he dove back into his book, digging deeper into the subject that entranced him so. The undead. Sith Alchemy had created a method of resurrecting the dead and turning them into undead weapons. Typically guardians of tombs, but Ezra imagined that a more inventive alchemist could use them for other purposes than just serving their former masters in death.

And that was the purpose of this trip. The few books he had taken with him when he fled Korriban and picked up since were not the best. He knew that his former master Baralai Lotus had many books on the subject of Alchemy, and most he would presume were left behind on Korriban. It was dangerous, but Ezra had no other way of advancing his study of the subject without the proper books. Baralai was gone, lost to the sands of time again. Just like every one of his masters, just like Sin, they had all faded away until no one remained.

He was the only person he could count on. Himself. Likewise he would not train himself in the ways of the force and alchemy.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

The rest of the trip passed without incident. The crew stayed away, and other than his Rodian companion, the rest of the passengers did also. The found the child's presence comforting. Often he found himself pausing in mid sentence to stare at the green skinned, antennaed alien. It reminded Ezra of a time long passed, when he himself was an innocent child. He played with toys then too, and outside with other children. Now he was a shut in, locked away with books and scrolls forever reading the past to better control the future. Sometimes. Just sometimes. He wished he could throw it all away and resurrect his childhood to live it again as nature had intended.

But it had not been stolen. Rather, he had sold it. Traded it away for power and knowledge.

"Na'chtion." A voice snapped him from the confines of his own mind, making him look up into the face of the ship's captain. "We're about to pass Korriban. The lads are gettin' the shuttle ready. You sure you want us to set you down there? That place is cursed."

"Quiet sure, Captain. I appreciate your caution."

The man, with his bushy mustache and ragged cap, nodded his head and motioned for Ezra to come. Gathering up his things, the sand haired youth prepared to leave, and took one final look at the alien child who's round, compact eyes looked just a little sad to see him go. Stopping, Ezra dug into his bag, rooting around blindly trying to find something until, at last, his hand emerged from the depths clutching a small, much repaired stuffed Ewok doll.

It was a remnant of his past. The only one he kept. A gift from his parents on a birthday too long ago to remember. It had been a staple of his youth, and he dragged it across the galaxy with him. Most of the makeshift repairs; a button eye, a reconnected limb, had been done long before he left home, but he had nonetheless maintained the idol over the years. Reaching out, he offered it to the Rodian, who looked up in puzzlement, like he had never been offered anything ever before. "Take it. I want you to have it." Ezra said at last, choking on the words a little as the only constant in his life was taken by little green hands.

Zipping his bag shut again he prepared to leave, but was stopped once again, but this time by an unexpected embrace. He had never been one for physical contact, but this hug from an alien child he did not even know the name of was suddenly the best thing he had ever experienced in his life. At least the child released him, waved sadly, and then scampered off back to wherever his family was.

With a heavy sigh Ezra did the same, heading up the stairs to the maindeck of the ship where he was shown to the shuttle bay, which was just large enough to hold what had to be the most rundown shuttle he had ever seen. Even the insides were gutted and he was forced to sit on the floor while an engineer, nursing a rather nice lump on his head, prepped the shuttle to leave. He did not even look at Ezra, completely focused on the task of getting the shuttle ready. Or perhaps too afraid to look.

The ride was bumpy and was spent holding on for dear life to whatever handholds the destroyed interior offered. The short trip to the surface gave him some time to dwell on the event just moments ago. Perhaps he had lost something in life by neglecting the people around him. Before he had always been too busy, too full of himself, to care. He threw everyone away. His parents, the scholars he learned under, and even the various brothers and sisters within the Sith Order. Baralai had been a second father to him, but even then he never embraced the man or treated him with anything but professional respect. Love. It was not something you could find in a textbook, and because of that he had completely overlooked it's existence. Suddenly he felt like a blind fool. All his intelligence and books and he could not even realize that he had hurt himself by abandoning the galaxy.

The crunch of landing struts on earth awoke Ezra from his revelry, and without even a word he picked up his bags and stepped off the shuttle, which left and quickly as it came. Looking up, he was met by the rising crags of the Valley of the Sith. Faces and statues were cut into the cliff face, adorning the many crypts and tombs that dotted the planet as a whole but especially here. As his boots carried him down the stretch of cliff, he could not help but feel a chill go up his spine. It was not fear, but excitement and joy. It was good to be home again. Among his own kind.

And he would find what he came here for; somewhere ahead in the distance.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

The ground was chunky and uneven. Nothing suitable for travel on foot. However, a pack beast would have been a great deal harder to bring along. Instead his small booted feet would have to make due. Tatooine was a wasteland of a different kind. Korriban was almost cold in comparison. It's single sun was already falling from the sky as the evening grew old. Ezra needed to find shelter before the sun was down. Regardless of whether he believed in the concept of spirits and ghosts or not the surface of Korriban was not the place to be after sundown.

In the end shelter was not needed. He found it.

It looked like any of the other tombs that dotted the surface of this dead planet. It was a large structure carved into the cliff face. It was a massive creation, but was sadly worn down and destroyed in many places. Time had been a cruel mistress and without the native Sith to maintain the tombs they had all fallen into similar condition. The only thing that differentiated this one from the others was that the plaque over the tomb door, where the face of the entombed Sith Lord should stand over like a protecting gargoyle there was nothing. There was no identification of any kind. The plagues beside the door where a name should be chiseled had been destroyed. Whomever had been buried in this tomb had his honor and name taken from him.

What could a man do in his death that would steal his legacy away?

The door had long fallen away. Like most of the tombs. The massive opening was twenty feet tall and easily permitted Ezra's small stature through. The inside was what Ezra imagined the other tombs looked like. Rubble and debris littered everywhere. The very walls and ceiling looked to be losing a battle with gravity and threatened to collapse in a moment. It was a facade, though, and Ezra knew it. The place had been tweaked from it's original condition and made to look incredibly derelict and dangerous to frighten off tomb robbers and adventurers. Sometimes the same person.

However, there was something new to this entrance. Remains dotted the floor here and there. Something humanoid in shape had died in here. Many of them. There was little left but scraps of flesh clinging to barren bones. Bones that were twisted and distorted, like they had been softened and stretched into shape. There were weapons along with bits of metal and leather armor. A sword caught Ezra's eye. Small fingers wrapped around the blade, and even with all his strength and his second hand aiding him, he could do no more than drag the blade across the floor.

He knew what they were. These were the hunters. The creatures that had been used to attack Korriban and oust the Sith Order. Their blades had resisted lightsabres. To a point. Dense metal blades. Incredible heavy, but built like blast shields. They could take a lightsabre for a second before melting through. A dirty surprise. He felt he should worry for his safety. These creatures had defeated many powerful sith knights after all, but these corpses were so decayed that they must have been dead for some time. He could theorize a great many things, but evidently they were all dead now. Hopefully.

Moving further into the tomb, Ezra took caution and wrapped it around him like a cloak to guard him as he crept slowly through the many interconnecting passages. Most of the paths were blocked with debris or cave ins. The actual tomb center where the sarcophagus of the entombed Sith Lord should reside was inaccessible along with most of the tomb. However, that was not Ezra's goal. A doorway led him to a seemingly empty room that may have housed treasures at one time but now was barren and uninteresting. A stone was pressed and the secret passage opened, leading into the catacombs beneath the main level of the tomb. This was were the Sith Order had lived.

Another spiderweb of hallways, hidden away from the surface and any would be attackers. The stairs led to hallways, and hallways lead to larger passages. The dark journey was one of memories. He could almost see them, the many people who had once turned this place into a thriving community. His first thought was to run to the library, a place that had been a home to him and his master Baralai Lotus. He resisted. That was not what he was here for. Whatever that library had of value he had taken with him when they fled the planet. No. He was looking for something else. Something beyond value.

But for memory sake, he did permit himself one place to see. At the center of the sepulcher was the council chamber. A place that had represented all their combined strengths with it's imposing thrones and the powerful sith that held them. He had to see it, just one time to pay his respects to those that had lived and died here. Small hands pushed into the outer cloister of the chamber. Bodies had been expected here, where ceremonial guards had stood to protect the council and would have been a last stand against the hunters. But there was not. There was no evidence of any kind of fighting here. Whatever bodies there had been were long ago dragged away. Ahead was a second door that lead into the actual council room.

He paused, hand on the door and questioned whether he should enter at all. This was a hollow place and he had never been permitted to access it before. The outer room had been where the council received petitions from the lower ranking sith. No. He had to. It was the only right thing to do. Pushing the door open he moved into the chamber. It was dark. Naturally. The whole place was. But this was a thicker darkness that his eyes could not adjust to even after being down here for this long.

Clink...

Ezra froze. Struck in stone by his fear at the sound that came from within the room. There, it came again. The sound of something moving in the darkness. It took everything he could muster to slowly back up toward the door, fumbling in the darkness for a latch his fingers just could not find. Now he heard breathing. Whatever was there was coming closer. Footsteps in the darkness.

It roared.

[Ezra Na'chtion]

The air moved. Something was coming. Ezra ducked, falling to the floor as quickly as possible with no care for just how he got there. As he rag dolled to the floor, he felt something move overhead, grazing the top of his shoulders. The door exploded behind him, letting in the defused light from the halls behind. A glance over his shoulder revealed that one of the black marble council chairs had been the culprit and now laid out on it's back cracked and broken.

The roar came again. A savage, blood chilling sound and Ezra wasted no time spinning on his knees to face the exit and taking off, leaving the council chamber behind. Footsteps followed, and Ezra only risked looking back when he rounded the fallen throne. The brief glimpse revealed a monster from his nightmares. The familiar face, with half it's face missing. It brought back the horrible memories of the attack, when this very temple fell. The leader of the hunters, whom Ezra's own lightsabre had removed half it's face accidentally.

The look on it's face made him think that it remembered him too. Truly horrified, Ezra kept running, trying to put as much space between him and the creature as he could. It kept up with him as he frantically ran through the halls, hitting corners with his body and bouncing off them. It's long legs were keeping up with him easily, and he could almost feel it's breath on his neck. His only saving grace is that it couldn't take the twists and turns as well as his smaller, lighter body could and with each corner Ezra gained a little breathing room only to lose it when the tunnels stretched out.

A door loomed up ahead. The beast was right behind him. Ezra tried to move faster, willing his body to just read the door first. It had been left open, and through the crack Ezra could make out the inside of one of the common rooms. He had hope, for a moment, until he felt something touch him back, and then suddenly he was flying through the air, through the door, and into the room beyond. His feet scrambled for purchase it just could not find on the cold tiled floors and pain erupted from his side as he was swat across the room again, this time landing on top of a table and sliding down it's length to fall into the chair that surrounded them.

He heard them break, the chair, and his body felt just as broken. The creature was coming. Ezra could hear it's heavy footsteps and labored breathing. He tried to get up, but he was twisted in the legs and backs of the broken chairs and he could feel the sharp edges cutting him through his clothes. Looking up the beast was rounding the table and coming at him. With his nightvision he could make out the gaunt face, the slender, elongated limbs and the ragged clothing it wore. It hardly resembled the proud warrior, tall and strong, that had invaded their temple several years prior.

There was no escape, and it knew it. It took it's time to get him, reaching over the wreckage to grab him. It's long, clawed fingers grabbed the neck of his tunic and a wicked smile spread across it's face. He had to do something. Something now. His little hands groped around, trying to find something of use. Anything. Fingers wrapped around wood and brought it up. He had no time to inspect what he found, all he knew is what to do with the long, slim object. The broken chair leg, with it's splintered end, was pushed into the creature's only good eye.

It screamed, pulling away but taking Ezra with him. He held on to the chair leg as the creature bucked and screamed, trying to pull it's head away from the pain. After only a moment hesitation he pulled the chair leg free, and then shoved it back into it's eye again and then out and into it's cheek, and then neck. He just kept stabbing and the creature continued to scream and hold him, frozen in it's pain. Finally he changed the angle on his thrust and shoved it upward into the creature's throat.

The screaming stopped, and it dropped Ezra to the ground before falling down beside him. Ezra screamed himself and crawled into the closest corner and sat there with his knees up against his chest, watching the creature continue to twitch and gurgle until, at last, everything went silent.