"Slowly, my apprentice."
"Yes, my master."
A hand clad in an armored black glove emerged from beneath the Human's equally black robe. He narrowed his eyes and called upon the keening, writhing energies of the Force to lift open the door before him at the behest of his master. The door was massive. It would take twenty Wookiees to lift the ancient stone portcullis, and after all the traps they had come through, the man's mind was ready for anything to come rocketing towards them. But nothing did.
Past the door lay a cavernous chamber lit only by the crude carried by his master. As the door opened completely, spheres made of some kind of spun glass and powered by ancient Sith magic flickered and flared to life. From one end to the next, the chamber must have been the size of a Corellian frigate. Metal sculptures of vicious Sith warriors holding barbaric, serrated swords lined each side. And there, sitting on a simple stone dais in the center of the room...
"My prize..." the master said in a husky, sibilant voice.
"I shall retrieve it for you." the man said, preparing to move forward. He was suddenly blocked by nerve-wracking pain, like a star igniting in his chest. The pain was familiar. It was the Force. The hand of his master clutched around his heart.
"Are you a fool?" the master hissed. "Is your connection to the Dark Side so feeble that you cannot sense the Sith sorcery that protects that which we have sought for so many years? Has your skill deteriorated so much so that you are nothing more than a servile Padawan, bowing and scraping to the Jedi?"
"N-no, my m-master... he choked. His heart felt as if it had stopped beating, and black fire seared through his veins. "For...forgive me..."
"Only because I need you. For now."
The black fire vanished, and the apprentice found he could breathe once more.
Side by side, the two black-robed figures swept into the chamber towards the pyramidal object ensconsed upon the dais. Neither of them turned when the first of the sculptures on the wall peeled soundlessly out of its embrasure. Neither of them so much as glanced back when the sculptures numbered twenty. They made no sound. Sith magic cloaked their presence.
Snap-hiss.
Three lightsabers ignited. All of them were as red as blood. The swords that the sculptures carried were made of a cortosis alloy, which deflected lightsaber blades.
It didn't matter at all.
Five minutes later, the last of the sculptures fell, cloven into three neat sections and still smoldering. The smell of ozone--mute evidence of the vile Force Lightning--hung in the air. Great craters had been sunk in the wall, and many of the sorcerous light globes had been shattered by bombastic displays of Dark Side power.
"Is it safe?" the master asked.
"It is, my master." the apprentice replied.
"Excellent... The master lifted two gloved hands and pushed back her black hood, her dark purple hair spilling free around the lush curves of her crimson face. "You have done well, my apprentice...with the power contained within the Holocron...we will have power sufficient enough to wipe out the Jedi and bring the Republic crashing down!"
Darth Cerbis, the Lady of Pain, laughed a cruel, hissing laugh. Her apprentice, Darth Odion, the Lord of Fury, knelt before his mistress and exulted in her majesty.
