Ronan’s laughter echoed through the chamber, a wild, unhinged sound that cut through the rumbling aftermath of his attack on Kael, oblivious to the shadows stirring in the darkness beyond the newly opened doors. “If I kill you, I can finally prove I’m worthy! That I can be Sith!” he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation as he raised the tool—a jagged metal prybar—for another strike. Kael, rubbing the back of his head where the blow had landed, snarled through gritted teeth, his lightsaber still on the ground from his disrupted meditation. “You fool! You have such a weak connection to the Force, you’d never be taken in. Do you really think the Sith Academy would overlook a slave with potential?”
Ronan’s eye twitched, his face twisting with rage. “Shut up!” He lunged again, but before the prybar could connect, a guttural roar erupted from the shadows, freezing them both mid-motion. Kalis’s head snapped toward the sound, her heart slamming against her ribs as pairs of glowing eyes—acid-green and predatory—emerged from the hidden passages. Needle-toothed beasts burst forth, six-legged monstrosities with bony snouts and sinewy bodies, their scales glinting like wet obsidian under the pyres’ purple light. The chamber exploded into chaos.
“Ronan! Pay attention!” Kalis yelled, her voice sharp with panic as the first beast charged, its claws gouging the stone floor with a screech that set her teeth on edge. Ronan spun just in time, dodging as the creature’s jaws snapped shut inches from his arm, its fetid breath a blast of decay that made her gag. But he wasn’t fast enough—another beast leaped from the side, its claws raking across his calf, tearing through fabric and flesh in a spray of blood. He screamed, a raw, guttural sound, and swung the prybar wildly, smashing it against the beast’s snout with a crack that echoed off the walls. “Get the saber! Kill it—kill it!” he shouted, stumbling back as the creature recoiled, shaking its head with a furious snarl.
Kalis dove for Kael’s fallen lightsaber, her hands slick with sweat as she scrambled across the floor, the hum of combat and the beasts’ roars pounding in her ears. Her fingers closed around the hilt—cold, heavier than she’d expected—and she fumbled with it, her breath hitching as she searched for the ignition. A snap-hiss split the air as the crimson blade flared to life, its glow casting wild shadows that danced with the chaos around her. A thrill surged through her, electric and unfamiliar, but it was cut short as she turned to see Ronan’s fate unfold.
The beasts had him pinned, two of them now, their claws sinking into his legs and shoulders as he thrashed, his screams turning to wet, choking gurgles. One ripped at his torso, its needle teeth shredding through muscle and bone in a grotesque tug-of-war, blood splattering the stone in dark arcs. The other yanked at his arm, pulling with a sickening pop as sinew tore free, his limb dangling uselessly before it was wrenched away entirely. Kalis froze, bile rising in her throat, the sight searing into her mind—Ronan’s body splitting apart, a marionette cut loose, his life snuffed out in seconds. The beasts turned toward her, their glowing eyes locking onto fresh prey, gore dripping from their maws.
Panic crashed over her, a tidal wave that threatened to drown her weeks of hard-earned composure. She’d never fought—not as Julia, not as Kalis—her Chiss memories filled with tools, not weapons, her hands trained for labor, not combat. The lightsaber trembled in her grip, its hum a lifeline she barely understood, as the first beast charged, its claws sparking against the stone. “Slave—just keep the blade between us and them!” Kael barked, staggering to his feet, his voice rough with pain as he lunged for a fallen dagger near the meditation platform. “Don’t let them flank you—slash, don’t stab, it’ll cut through with ease!”
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She barely registered his words, her body moving on raw instinct as the beast leaped, its jaws gaping wide. She swung the saber upward, a desperate arc that caught it mid-air, the blade slicing through its underbelly with a wet, sizzling tear. Hot blood sprayed across her face, stinging her eyes as the creature howled, its guts spilling onto the floor in a steaming heap before it crashed down, twitching and still. The shock of it—of killing—rattled her, but there was no time to process; the second beast was already upon her, its claws slashing at her legs with blinding speed.
Pain erupted as its talons raked her thigh, a fiery gash that buckled her knee, and she cried out, ragged and raw, swinging the saber in a wild sweep. The blade caught its neck, severing muscle and bone with a clean, effortless cut, the head rolling free as the body crumpled, its momentum carrying it into her legs. She stumbled back, panting, the weapon’s hum steadying her as blood—hers and the beast’s—soaked through her tunic, warm and sticky against her skin. Her hands shook, the adrenaline surging, but she deactivated the saber, its light winking out as she fought to catch her breath.
Kael surged into the fray beside her, his dagger flashing as he met a third beast head-on. It lunged, snapping at his arm, but he twisted aside, driving the blade deep into its eye with a grunt. The creature shrieked, thrashing as he yanked the dagger free, black ichor spraying across his armor, and plunged it into its throat, silencing it with a final, gurgling collapse. The chamber fell quiet, the pyres’ purple flames flickering over the carnage—Ronan’s shredded remains, three beast corpses, blood pooling in the cracks of the stone floor. Kalis’s chest heaved, her vision swimming as the stench of death—iron and rot—filled her lungs.
Kael steadied himself, wiping the dagger on his sleeve, his gaze shifting to Ronan’s body with a sneer. “The slave bastard disoriented me,” he muttered, then turned to Kalis, his pale eyes glinting with something like begrudging respect. “Thank you. You’ve earned my praise—and my recommendation to Lady Shaar.” He held out his hand expectantly, and it took her a dazed moment to realize he wanted his lightsaber back. She handed it over, the hilt slipping from her blood-slick fingers, her mind reeling from the fight’s brutality.
A new rumble shook the chamber, different from the beasts’ release—a deep, grinding roar as the central pillar shifted, stone scraping against metal. Three ancient artifacts emerged from a hidden recess: a warblade, its edge notched and gleaming; a Sith holocron, its crimson-black surface pulsing faintly; and a strange stimpack, its vial glowing with an eerie light. Kael’s eyes gleamed as he stepped forward, lifting the warblade with satisfaction and claiming the holocron for himself. He barely glanced at the stimpack before tossing it to her with a dismissive flick. “That’s of no interest to me. Take it—it’s your reward.”
Kalis caught it, her hands still trembling, staring down at the pack with uncertainty—what made it valuable?—her thigh throbbing where the beast had clawed her. Kael sneered at Ronan’s remains, his voice dripping with contempt. “That fool thought he could become Sith? Slaves never know their place.”
He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he surveyed the looted chamber, now a battlefield strewn with death. “We’ve overstayed. We need to report back our initial findings.” Kalis nodded, clutching the stimpack, her mind a whirlwind of adrenaline and exhaustion as they stepped over the gore-soaked corpses, making their way up the stairs. The tomb’s oppressive air clung to her, heavier now with the blood on her hands—her first kill, her first taste of the violence she’d only seen from the sidelines.
