Gray Tale, A Star Wars Rebels Story

SW Gray Tale 127: The Calling II

The massive stone structure loomed over me like a jagged tombstone dropped right in the middle of the swamp.

I looked up at the crumbling spires breaking through the storm canopy, trying to sift through my mental library of Star Wars lore. The fried nav-computer had dumped us somewhere in the Esstran sector. I knew that much. But this sector was essentially prime real estate for the old Sith Empire. Dromund Kaas, Ziost, Korriban.

I didn't know which specific hellhole I was currently standing on, but even without actively dipping into the Force, the sheer weight of time pressing down on this place was suffocating. The dark stone walls were choked with thick moss and creeping vines. The jagged, aggressive geometry of ancient Sith architecture was unmistakable.

A guttural, vibrating roar echoed from the tree line behind me, accompanied by the horrific snapping of massive timber. The terentateks were still tracking my scent.

"Force be damned," I muttered under my breath. "Let's hope my dark-side camouflage theory actually works."

I adjusted my grip on Arachnae and limped up the crumbling stone steps, slipping through the massive, lightless archway of the temple entrance.

The air inside was incredibly stale, carrying the heavy scent of ozone and undisturbed dust. I ignited Hett's lightsaber, letting the blood-red plasma blade illuminate the suffocating gloom of the corridor.

My hyper-perception was absolutely useless here. The ambient dark-side energy was so impossibly dense it felt like trying to listen for a pin drop during a heavy artillery barrage. The oily static simply smothered my senses into submission.

I walked slowly down the cavernous hall, sweeping my crimson light across the towering stone walls. Faded murals carved deep into the rock depicted massive figures in heavy armor standing over seas of kneeling slaves.

I squinted at the ancient carvings, trying to guess who these specific megalomaniacs were, but I absolutely refused to use my psychometry. Reading a couple hundred years old thing had sent me into near-coma. Touching a millennia-old Sith mural inside a dark-side nexus would probably liquefy my brain on the spot.

Going any deeper into the crypt seemed like a genuinely terrible idea. Even if this place had been abandoned for thousands of years, wandering through the core of a Sith temple without a dedicated raiding party was just asking to get cursed.

I found a relatively clear section of the stone floor near a collapsed pillar and gently set Arachnae down. The little spider-droid immediately let out a series of soft, vibrating chirps, her optical sensors dimming nervously in the oppressive shadows.

"We're okay, girl," I whispered, reaching out to pat her scratched metallic chassis. "We are safe now. Just... keep your audio receptors open."

I wedged the hilt of the ignited lightsaber into a jagged fissure in the floorboards. The crimson glow cast long, wavering shadows across the ancient stone, providing just enough light to see what I was doing.

With a heavy groan, I started undoing the locking clasps of my ruined Imperial armor. The chestplate and greaves had become a massive liability.

They were dragging down my stamina and actively hindering my movement. I stripped off the heavy metal plating, tossing the useless pieces aside until I was just wearing my damp, mud-soaked undersuit.

I sank down onto the cold floor with a ragged sigh of sheer exhaustion.

I reached down to rub my aching calves, wincing as the overworked muscles screamed in protest. Force-enhanced or not, dragging a newly twelve-year-old body through a death swamp was incredibly taxing.

I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, wondering if Kael was okay. Given the sheer volume of teeth and claws out in that forest, I didn't have much hope.

Then the temperature in the corridor completely plummeted.

The ambient dark-side pressure suddenly shifted. It pulled inward, coalescing from a vague, suffocating fog into a sharp, piercing focal point right at the edge of the light.

"A curious little creature you are."

The voice didn't echo. It sounded like it was speaking directly inside the hollow cavity of my skull. Smooth, melodic, and dripping with an ancient, unbearable patience.

"Holding the weapon of a Sith, yet the mind tethers between the light and the dark."

I thrust my hand out, using the Force to violently yank the lightsaber out of the stone crack. The hilt slapped into my palm as I scrambled backward, dropping into a low, defensive crouch.

"Who's there?!" I demanded. My voice cracked perfectly on the second syllable.

Arachnae let out a high-pitched, distressed beep and scrambled rapidly behind my legs.

From the shadows between the massive stone pillars, a figure began to slowly bleed into the ambient light. It didn't step forward. Light simply bent away, revealing a translucent apparition hovering a few inches above the cracked floor.

It was a tall humanoid with dark, crimson-tinted skin, sharp predatory facial features, and pronounced bone spurs jutting from its cheekbones and chin. The spectre wore elaborate, heavy robes that seemed to trail off into dissipating black smoke at the edges.

But it was the eyes that truly stood out. Depthless, ink-black voids that stared at me with the detached, absolute focus of an apex predator evaluating a completely new species of prey.

An shock came to my mind yet I pressed it under.

The apparition drifted an inch closer.

"I asked who you are!" I yelled, gripping the hilt with both hands and holding the red blade out in front of me. I let my breath hitch in my chest, allowing my shoulders to rise defensively.

The spirit didn't flinch at the weapon. Its black eyes simply flicked from the glowing plasma down to my muddy boots, then back up to my face.

"You tremble, child," the apparition noted smoothly. The voice was whisper-quiet but entirely dominant in the dead air of the temple. "Your lungs burn. Your muscles fray. The creatures outside have exacted a heavy toll."

"You didn't answer my question," I pushed, letting my voice shake just enough to sound terrified but trying to be brave. "Are you a Sith? Some kind of dead Jedi?"

The entity let out a slow, resonating sound that might have been a chuckle. It made the dust at my feet vibrate.

"Sith. Jedi," he murmured, treating the words as if they were fundamentally meaningless. "Frail, temporary dogmas for children squabbling over the shape of their own shadows. I am bound to no such primitive creeds. But that was in the past. Now, I am just a spirit guarding the darkness."

He drifted an inch closer, ignoring the red plasma blade entirely.

"My existence is not your concern, but you...I fear are injured." the spirit observed softly, his dark eyes tracing the muddy contours of my undersuit. "You carry the scent of the death on you. It seems the predators of this world have chased you far."

"What... what are those things?" I asked, keeping the blade completely steady between us. "Why are there so many of them?"

"Terentateks," the spirit answered. "Monstrosities bred in the forgotten crucibles of a very old war. They are designed to seek out those who carry the resonance of the Force within their blood. Such as yourself."

The phantom slowly clasped its translucent, ring-adorned hands together.

"They spend their centuries in slumber," the spirit murmured, almost to itself. "Only rising when a disturbance ripples through the crust of this world. You shine quite brightly in the dark, little one. It is no small feat that you outran the pack. Yet I wonder, what brought you to this forgotten world?"

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes locked on his shifting form. "My... our ship. It crashed in the storm. We dropped out of hyperspace completely blind. Where am I? What is this planet?"

"A graveyard," the spectre said flatly. "A monument to empires that turned to dust long before you drew your first breath."

The apparition slowly tilted its horned head, studying me with a terrifying, unblinking intensity.

"But you bring questions of your own," the spirit observed softly. "You carry the scent of the Light... the soft, fragile teachings of the Jedi. Yet you brandish a weapon singing with malice and stolen blood. An interesting paradox."

The temperature dropped another degree.

"Tell me, boy," the spirit whispered, leaning slightly forward. "Who is your master? Who is the one to place such a weapon in the hands of a child? A Jedi? A Sith?"

I let the tip of the lightsaber dip slightly, allowing a look of exhausted defeat to cross my face. I needed him to think I was breaking.

"He... he called himself Plagueis," I stammered out, keeping my voice shaky. "Darth Plagueis."

The spectre remained perfectly still. I watched his pitch-black eyes carefully, waiting to see if he recognized the name. But the entity merely looked at me with an air of mild, patronizing curiosity.

"A grand title," the apparition mused, though his tone held a razor-thin edge of mockery. "The galaxy has never lacked for arrogant men adopting the mantle of the dark. And where is this... master... of yours now?"

"He wasn't my master," I snapped, letting real anger flare up in my voice. I took a half-step back, my grip tightening. "He was a monster. He came to my home. He took me. He... he killed them all just because he wanted to see what I could do."

The emotions leaked out unprompted, and I could feel the dark side aura of the temple feed the frustration.

"He made me fight," I breathed out, my chest heaving. "For months. And when he slipped up... when he dropped his guard... I took his weapon and I ran. And I have been running ever since."

The spirit remained silent, absorbing the performance. For a long, suffocating minute, the only sound in the temple was the distant rumbling of thunder outside.

"Betrayal. Vengeance. Survival," the spectre finally murmured, the words dripping from his lips like rich wine. "The foundation of the universe. It seems your false master gave you a true education after all."

The ghost slowly began to pace, drifting in a slow, calculated semicircle around my position. He never looked away from my face.

"But you have merely traded one cage for another," the spirit noted calmly. "Your vessel is destroyed. This temple is sealed from the outside. And the forest is endless."

"Then help me," I pleaded, turning my body to keep the lightsaber positioned between us. "You... you must be someone important. A guardian. A Jedi ghost cursed to watch this place. If you know the temple, you have to know a way out of here."

The phantom stopped drifting. His translucent shoulders shifted, rising in a faint mimicry of a heavy sigh.

"I am merely an echo," he said softly, looking away from me for the first time to gaze at the dark murals on the walls. "Watchman bound to a dead house, oathbound to not interfere. Countless centuries have passed, and many have come to this planet, some plunderers in search of treasures, some blind in pursuit of power. But few have returned. Pointless the struggle is, death will claim you sooner or later." 

He looked back at me, his black eyes devoid of anything resembling empathy.

"I ask you as such, why struggle, child?" he asked quietly. "The galaxy is a cold, churning mechanism of rot. Empires rise only to collapse beneath their own weight. Everything you have ever known, or will ever know, will eventually turn to ash. Even if you escape, the forest is fraught with dangers and more beasts waiting for you. Why prolong the inevitable?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. I lowered the lightsaber down to my side, planting my boots firmly into the stone floor.

"Because...I need to save her." I said, my voice dropping "She's alone...I cannot fail her again..."

The spectre didn't move a single muscle, but the sheer atmospheric pressure of the room suddenly spiked.

"Love," the apparition whispered, tasting the word on his tongue. "Devotion. The chains that mortal creatures bind to their own necks."

"I need to save her," I insisted, taking a step forward and looking up into those bottomless black eyes. "I didn't steal this ship and tear across half the galaxy just to die in the mud. I need to get back. So tell me how to get out of this place."

"Such fiery arrogance," the spirit observed mildly. "Such desperate, flailing ambition."

He drifted closer, stopping just beyond the reach of my blade. He peered down at me, looking remarkably like an ancient god assessing a slightly amusing mortal offering.

"I am bound by ancient oaths to ensure the isolation of this sanctuary," the spectre said slowly. His tone carried a reluctant, hesitant cadence, as if my words had somehow moved an immovable object. "To interfere in the mortal cycle... to assist you... risks much."

"Please," I stammered, letting my free hand ball into a tight fist against my side. "I'll do whatever it takes. I can clear whatever tests this place has. Just give me a chance."

The spirit lingered on my pleading expression. He was taking his time. He was drawing it out, ensuring the dependency was properly cemented before springing the trap.

"There is... a relic," the phantom finally murmured. "Sealed in the lower vaults. A weapon of ancient design."

I perked up immediately. "A weapon? Like a ship? A comms array?"

"An instrument of subjugation," the spirit corrected smoothly. "When drawn, it emits a frequency... a resonance that dominates the primitive minds of beasts. Even the terentateks outside would scatter before it."

I looked toward the heavy darkness stretching down the main corridor. "Where is it? Can I just grab it and walk out?"

"If it were simple, I would not have hidden it in the dark," the spectre said, his voice hardening slightly. "It is sealed deep within the foundation. The artifact feeds upon the living Force to maintain its charge. To claim it, one must have the strength to bend it to their will. The weak are simply consumed by the contact."

"I'm not weak," I stated firmly.

"We shall see," the apparition replied softly. He raised one long, translucent finger, pointing down the hall into the absolute pitch-black abyss. "Three levels beneath our feet. Through the burial chambers. The vault doors bear the markings of a serpent consuming its own tail."

I nodded quickly, looking in the direction he pointed. "Three levels down. Serpent tail. Got it."

I hesitated, looking back at the towering crimson phantom. "Why... why are you doing this? If you're a guardian."

"Perhaps," the spirit said, his form slowly beginning to blur and dissipate into the cold air. "I am simply weary of watching children die in the mud."

The apparition's edges were already turning to smoke, dissolving back into the absolute blackness between the pillars.

I waited until he was almost entirely faded before I dropped my shoulders and let out a long, heavy exhale. I rolled my neck, letting the frightened, desperate kid persona completely bleed away.

"Since you've been so incredibly helpful," I called out into the echoing stone corridor, keeping my voice completely casual. "I feel like I should really thank you properly. But I'm drawing a blank on the formalities."

The wisps of dispersing smoke stalled mid-air.

"What should I call you, exactly?" I asked, leaning slightly on my lightsaber hilt like it was a walking cane. "Immortal Emperor Valkorion? Sith Emperor Vitiate? Or perhaps Darth Tenebrae would be more to your liking, wouldn't it... your highness?"

The reaction was instantaneous.

The temperature in the corridor didn't just drop—it completely bottomed out. The heavy, ambient dark-side static suddenly collapsed inward like a dying star. The fading patches of smoke violently snapped back together.

In a fraction of a second, the phantom blazed back into existence. His translucent form didn't just solidify; it practically radiated a dense, blinding crimson aura that bathed the entire hall in blood-red light. He still hovered weightlessly above the floor, but the casual, weary posture was completely gone.

He drifted toward me with terrifying speed, stopping mere inches from the tip of my lightsaber.

"Oh?" The voice no longer sounded like a melodic whisper. It was an echoing, overlapping chorus of pure malice that vibrated right through the enamel of my teeth. "You know of me. Interesting. Very interesting."

He leaned down, his impossibly sharp features looming just over the glowing red blade. Those depthless black voids practically swallowed the light.

"Millennia have turned to dust," the entity murmured, genuine fascination woven through his arrogance. "Countless generations born and burned. Yet it seems time could not wipe out the scars I carved into the galaxy. Tell me, little one... what grand legends do they sing of me in this fleeting age?"

He was practically swirling around me, an oppressive, suffocating mass of ego looking to bathe in its own legacy.

"Uh... no, actually," I said, offering an apologetic little shrug. "It did. Time completely wiped you out."

The crimson spectre froze.

"Yeah, sorry to burst the bubble," I continued, fighting through the sheer atmospheric pressure crushing my lungs. "Not even the current Sith know who you are. The Rule of Two completely monopolized the dark side a thousand years ago. To the rest of the galaxy? You aren't a legend. You aren't even a footnote on a ruined datapad."

The phantom slowly straightened up. The violent crimson aura flaring around him began to writhe, twisting like agitated serpents.

"You know of me, yet I hear mockery in a voice that should be drowning in despair," Vitiate noted, the overlapping chorus of his tone taking on a lethal, cutting edge. "You stand inside my domain, isolated, fragile, and utterly broken. Should I call you fearless, child, or simply foolish?"

"Honestly, in my experience? There really isn't much of a difference," I countered. "But let me guess—the whole 'I'm a guardian cursed to watch this place' routine was just a creative pivot, right?"

He stared at me, the suffocating presence pushing against my mental shields trying to find a crack.

"Because last I checked," I pressed on, my twenty-seven-year-old meta-awareness fully taking the wheel. "Your absolute tyrant act got severely derailed by the Hero of Tython. They kicked your teeth in right here in this very building, didn't they? Brought half the temple down right on top of your host body."

Vitiate's black eyes flared slightly. For a master manipulator who spent a thousand years treating sentient lives like disposable chess pieces, hearing his greatest humiliating defeat summarized by a snarky twelve-year-old in a mud-stained undersuit had to be deeply disorienting.

"No wonder the architecture felt vaguely familiar," I said, gesturing loosely toward the faded murals with my free hand. "This is the Dark Temple. Originally built by a Sith lord whose name probably predates dirt. Reclaimed, heavily renovated, and heavily guarded by your Imperial Guards for centuries until someone finally evicted you."

I locked eyes with the towering spectre.

The crimson aura rolling off him painted the ancient murals in bloody light.

"You know what's funny?"

For a moment, neither of us moved.

I adjusted my grip on the lightsaber.

"The great Sith Emperor."

The corner of my mouth twitched upward.

"The immortal terror who spent centuries conquering worlds."

I glanced around the ruined temple.

"And this is what you're reduced to."

My gaze settled back on him.

"A fragment."

"A ghost telling stories to stranded children. Unable to even discern the truth from the lies"

The aura around him rippled.

I could practically feel the pressure building inside the ancient spirit.

"Tell me something."

My voice stayed casual.

"Does this fragment of eternal emperor's spirit even know what happened to your original self?"

Silence.

The dark-side pressure throughout the corridor seemed to freeze.

For the first time since he'd appeared, genuine uncertainty flickered across his face.

It lasted less than a second.

But it was there.

"You..."

The word emerged slowly.

His black eyes narrowed.

"You are not the child."

He continued before I could speak, more toward himself than me.

"Possession? No...A possession would leave traces."

His eyes swept over me.

"I would have sensed another presence.

"Yeah, yeah."

I waved a hand dismissively.

"We can play twenty questions later."

The ancient spirit fell silent.

Not because he had nothing to say.

Because for the first time since this conversation began, he wasn't entirely certain which question he should ask first.

I rolled one shoulder, immediately regretting it as my ribs protested.

"So, old man."

I leaned lightly against the lightsaber hilt.

"How about we retire the wise guardian act?"

I nodded toward the pitch-black corridor leading deeper into the temple.

"And you tell me what you've really got chained up under this place."

His expression didn't change.

But something behind those black eyes became considerably more attentive.

I smiled.

"Because I don't believe for a second that you woke up a forest full of terentateks just to give me directions."

[To Be Continued]

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Story Assosiated Lore Below

Spoiler

Tenebrae, most commonly known as the Sith Emperor Vitiate, is the hidden mastermind behind the Sith Empire on Dromund Kaas. He is not simply a powerful Sith Lord but an ancient dark-side being who has survived for over a thousand years by consuming life, transferring his consciousness between bodies, and manipulating entire civilizations.

Born as the Sith child Tenebrae, he displayed terrifying power from an early age, eventually draining an entire planet of life to achieve near-immortality. After the fall of the old Sith civilization, he led the surviving Sith to Dromund Kaas and rebuilt them into a secret empire that spent centuries preparing for war against the Republic.

To most Imperial citizens, the Emperor is a distant, godlike ruler whose will guides the Empire. In reality, he views almost everyone as tools. His ultimate goal is not conquest for the Sith, but his own ascension to unlimited power and immortality, even if that means sacrificing entire worlds or the galaxy itself.

By the era of Star Wars: The Old Republic, he is feared even by the Dark Council and the greatest Sith Lords. Dromund Kaas serves as the heart of his Empire and the seat of his authority, with the oppressive atmosphere of the world reflecting his influence.

In simple terms, if Darth Sidious is the ultimate villain of the movie era, Vitiate is his ancient precursor: older, more supernatural, and obsessed with becoming an immortal god rather than merely ruling the galaxy

terentatek was a massive, predatory beast warped by prolonged exposure to the dark side of the Force. Resembling a monstrous reptile with thick armor-like hide, enormous claws, and a near-insatiable hunger, terentateks were infamous for hunting Force-sensitives. Their connection to the dark side made them especially dangerous to Jedi and Sith alike, and even experienced warriors often avoided confronting one alone.

On Dromund Kaas, stories of terentateks were common around ancient Sith ruins. They were often found lurking near forgotten temples, tombs, and places saturated with dark-side energy, feeding on creatures foolish enough to wander too close. The Dark Temple, in particular, is exactly the sort of location where people would expect a terentatek to be hiding—either as a naturally drawn predator or as an ancient guardian left behind by long-dead Sith.

For ordinary Imperial citizens, a terentatek would be viewed much like a dragon from fantasy stories: rare, terrifying, and usually encountered only in rumors. For Sith, however, seeing evidence of one near a lost ruin would be a warning that they were approaching a place of exceptional dark-side significance. The beast itself is often less frightening than whatever ancient secret attracted it there in the first place.

The Dark Temple was one of the oldest and most mysterious sites on Dromund Kaas, hidden deep within the planet's jungles and abandoned long before most living Imperials were born. Built during the earliest days of the Sith Empire, it was strongly connected to the Emperor's dark-side experiments and the ancient power that permeated the world. By the Imperial era, the temple had become more legend than location—a forbidden ruin whispered about by Sith scholars, intelligence agents, and treasure hunters. Most citizens doubted it even existed, while those who searched for it often vanished into the Kaas wilderness. The place was said to contain forgotten Sith secrets, lingering spirits, and traces of the Emperor's influence, making it both a priceless discovery and an extremely dangerous one.

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A/N: I would like to apologize to casual star war fans and new fans as well who are reading the story. In the past chapter it had been a lot of things used from Legends universe and many might be feeling like nothing is being told and everything is new etc. 

In the image section above, I have also added some lore and pics to help in understanding the story. Also some apologies pic ;)

I have taken a tad bit of creative liberty but I hope that I was able to replicate the ancient Sith's tone right.

Story Aside, some geek talk if anyone is interested.

I felt the galactic timeline on wiki is quite bland and hard to navigate, so I made some improvements to it and included it in my site. Check out the images in the comment and give it a visit if you wanna see more. (Site is a bit graphics heavy so desktop will give best experience)

That aside, if we reach 800 stones by Saturday, I will post an bonus chapter on that day and then scheduled chapter on Sunday. 

See ya!

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