Episode X Dark Hunter

The Corridor and the Voices

Videsse limped past the pedestals on the platform and made a brief inventory as was her habit in all situations (she was still and always a bounty hunter).

Perhaps the items would be valuable enough to walk off with when leaving, she thought. Upon a brief examination, she deemed not.

There was a black, half-melted helmet with a vented faceplate.

Worthless, Videsse thought.

A singed grey cloak floated above the next pedestal, undulating as if in churning water like a Karkarias jellyfish.

Also worthless.

Next, there was a red pyramidal object with the same glyphs that edged the platform's perimeter. Videsse removed it from the pedestal. It was heavier than she expected and though she found it interesting, she was unsure of its value. She restored it into its magnetic cylinder. After that, a silver and black hilt of a lightsaber levitated, only this hilt was uniquely angled.

Videsse shrugged, again, not interested. The final pedestal sat empty. Lastly, she walked past the Razalon speeder, figuring it was at least seventy years old. Perhaps some collectors would be interested, she thought but recognized that it would be too difficult to escape with after she had found her PZ-85 droid--if she found him.

Videsse traversed the rest of the mosaiced platform, appearing like a ghostly apparition in the late afternoon mountain shadow. She lurched toward the door, an undead ghost venturing to interact with the physical world. The door was shut, and a control panel was positioned waist high on the right side. Videsse removed one of her vibroblades to pry the panel loose in order to hotwire it open. Her invisible vibroblade scraped the panel. It buzzed as it contacted the metal plate and fell out of the joints as her shaking hand tried to work it in. Videsse, trying to stabilize the quivering blade, grabbed it with both vaporous hands, but was finding it nauseating to concentrate so hard on keeping her hand steady in the surgical procedure. Instead, she decided to just hit the "open" thumb pad, mostly in desperation without hope. However, it worked.

"Huh," she whispered to herself, surprised and frustrated that she had not tried the simplest action first. She gritted her teeth in resentment. It was difficult to think logically, swimming in the waves of headaches, nausea, and trembling; yet, she pushed through those waves and entered. The blade returned to her boot sheath.

A dim yellow light awoke inside the door, illuminating only a few meters of a corridor. The path led into a black void with no observable end. Videsse stepped forward as the door shut behind her, unintentionally (or intentionally) preventing her retreat.

Videsse stood for a moment in a cone of jaundice light. The walls were decorated with typical Arkanian art, though this seemed darker and more religious. Men and women sat by firesides, black, grey, yellow, and orange. Yet, behind each brushstroked fireside, was a creature, a smoky and black creature, with clawed wings and fell red eyes. Sometimes it stood as a man with a pale face and red lines over its red eyes, other times it flew above in the smoke, and still, another crouched in the distance as if barred from the light, its claws grasping and reaching for the unsuspecting fireside tale-bearers.

Videsse took note, and shuddered at the imagery, then looked reticently into the darkness ahead. An eerie breeze blew from the corridor and swirled the dust particles at the edge of the light, like two black wings swinging wide. It was haunting, and though she did not believe in the supernatural, she found it unsettling. She moved on into the corridor. Heat-sensor lights awoke to guide her way and died as she passed by. Walking only in a narrow sphere of light, she strained uselessly to see the end of the hall before her and when she looked back, the door behind had vanished in the darkness.