Vibrations from the air resistance as the LAAT/i descended came through in the electronic helmet voices of its stowed Stormtrooper platoon as the ships lateral gunners continually confirmed no contacts and relayed unimaginative information about the frozen landscape below as far as the eye can see to the platoon leader.
* * TWO HUNDRED METERS. GO IN TEN * * — came the call. The pilot complained about a lack of visual references and not knowing where to land. There was no facility and their orders clearly stated the drop-off location was a structure. Largely ignored the pilot took their frustrations out on the landing and by extension an eagerly unbuckled trooper who left the floor and clattered to the deck as the LAAT/i bumped its landing hard.
* * GO, GO, GO! **
The large lever doors dropped open on either side and the interior became part of the harsh cold climate instantly. Reactively the door to the pilots compartment snapped shut as wind and sleet blasted through the previously crowded cabin, the troopers had pridefully setup an outward facing perimeter securing the ice outside from nothing but scattering flightless birds, but despite their discipline there wasn't a single one not shuffling in the cold trying to fend off the temperature.
Nikana stood at the exit of the LAAT/i and from under their hood took a slow deep breath and exhaled a long warm dewy cloud that froze and disappeared as a gust of wind whipped the air, pelting the side of the LAAT/i with snow and ice as he disembarked.
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* * Orders, Sir? * *
The LAAT/i took off sharply and for a few seconds its wake darkened the air with lifted snow which offered a brief clear glimpse through the ice below before it was lost once again as more snow fell.
The planet Tarthos is so distant from its star that seasons offer nothing more than a shift in freezing temperatures. However when travelling in close proximity to the nearby crystalline planet Ombus the additional reflected heat catching in Tarthos' thick moist atmosphere generates unusual warmth. Due to this the planets frozen oceans and large glacial masses have been noted to shift, rise and fall over the course of centuries. 5000 years ago during the reign of Urias Orian, this was not an ice sheet, recovered historic data showed this was a peninsula of the Lugar Mau continent, and was the site of a Sith temple built upon ancient ruins. Now it was supposed to be the site of an excavation and research station.
Somehow the weather was becoming less welcoming. Pressing two fingers against his military style throat comm Nikana spoke, "Captain, I could make out a tunnel roughly 4 meters below the ice."
* * Affirm, Sir — BT-244, setup a thermal drill, 3 meter depth — TK-337, ready 2 thermal detonators on a 30 second timer — Everyone else, CLEAR THE AREA! * *
Though listening to the communications below the LAAT/i above still veered unexpectantly in the sky as a column of vapourised ice and debris was flung hundreds of feet into the air with explosive force. Once the vapour clouds had dispersed what remained was a shallow bowl crater the bottom of which neatly carved into what must've been a tunnel from the excavation, it's dark passages leading deeper under the ice. As the troopers moved to secure an area that now had tactical value, the wind whipping over the edge of the crater howled hauntingly.
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The Stormtroopers crowded both passage ways turning on lights affixed to their blasters, a few thick cables lay on the floor and lights occasionally hung from the passage ceilings but there was no power. Nikana pushed through the mess of bodies, peering into the darkness as the pathway sloped down and seemed to curve back on itself in a large downwards spiral.
Knocking on a Stormtroopers helmet, Nikana pointed down the passage, "Two of you, up front. Two squads follow.", pointing to the cables on the floor, "... have a third Squad follow these cables, look for a power generator."
* * SIR. * *
With two troopers ahead lighting the way progress should've been quick, but the deeper they went the thinner the air became and it was obvious the troopers were slowing and breathing more heavily. Whatever ventilated this passage previously was no longer functioning. Nikana tapped his comm, "Captain, have you found a generator?"
As they spoke Nikana could hear the static coming through the commlink of the closest Stormtrooper, there shouldn't have been any interference. Reactively each trooper tried their own commlink creating a pitiful cacophony of unanswered requests and resulting static. Hidden amongst the noise the tunnel groaned painfully.
Ordering the troopers to wait, Nikana relaxed and slowed their breathing before taking one of their blasters and the underslung light it provided. They continued deeper now only accompanied by silence and the intermittent crunch of frost underfoot.
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After a dozen rotations downwards the silence changed, footsteps began to echo as the passage ahead opened into a large chamber it's floor covered in a cracked and uneven classical mosaic distantly surrounded by walls of crystalline ice arching into a high ceiling.
The once detailed mosaic seemed to be a depiction of Urias Orian seated atop a black hemisphere with scepter and sword in either hand. His face seemed dispassionate, his pose exalted. This should've been a central feature of the old temple surrounded by a grand hall and ante chambers, but it seemed to be all that remained between the clear ice walls peering out into the black, leaving the mosaic as if floating in an infinite void.
Inspecting the mosaic closer, the sword was obviously Orians famous weapon pulled from darkness and wielded with great destructive power. But to Nikana the scepter was new and the smooth hemisphere throne; was it representative of the Star of Ombus? On hands and knees Nikana brought their face close to the ground to take in details, a sweet smell of decay thickened the stale air. Seven symbols were engraved on a ring of stones that had done their best to hold the mosaic together. The air was becoming distressingly thick and taking a deep rasping breath provided no relief, trying to stand gravity somehow proved too strong. Held in place on knees that felt ground into the floor, Nikana fell forward and laid their cheek to the mosaic as their arms splayed at the elbows giving way to gravity, their exasperated spittle mixing with the dust and the dirt with short struggling breaths. Nikana's vision glazed over as colours and the memory of light gave way to the encroaching darkness behind the lids of their eyes.
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"Plees! Anagi omhi Dar Itha! Anagi omhi!", there were many nearby voices stained with emotion baying out in reverence and fear inside the brightly lit grand hall of a large golden temple. At its center a man sat cross legged in meditation atop a translucent glass-like obsidian hemisphere, a scepter in one hand and a sword in the other. Unlike his mosaic he didn't just look exalted, he had the presence of a god.
Throngs of human-like faces cried out in their native tongue over and over, part praise part seeking forgiveness or respite. But neither came as like Nikana, their bodies were held down by the overwhelming presence at the center of the hall. Heads bowed low yet voices were high as their cries slowly became a chant and eerily the words began to make sense.
"Lord Emperor, I live to serve! I live to serve!", as the voices changed so did the bodies, some falling to the stone floor writhing in excruciating pain, others clawing at themselves as their skin thinkened in scaley patches, some with their limbs enlarging, still others pulling the hair from their heads or simply nursing engorging tumours that were slowly killing them. These were sithspawn, they were Ekind, the enslaved Ombi people.
As agonising moments passed, the screams faded, with bodies either still or dead the voices began to unify, chanting their one purpose, "I live to serve. I live to serve. I live to serve."
Urias Orian opened his eyes.
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Nikana opened their shocked eyes to darkness and fresh echoing screams, lucent ethereal forms of men and woman were entering the frozen chamber backwards on all fours, their horrific movements sharp and agonised, joints bending at incorrect angles as they seemed forced to move towards what had been the Urias Orian mosaic but had now fallen away to reveal a gapping black maw, a seemingly bottomless pit that desired to be filled.
Attempting to retreat from the dark aberration of the maw, Nikana scrambled back into the passage to make their way up to the surface, but the horror continued. Slumped on the floor of the passage otherwise prestine Stormtrooper armour lay soaked in blood as if bled out from the inside. Unpowered overhead lights flashing in the presence of more tortured lucent forms pulled towards the hungry maw below. The walls of the passage groaned and strained, as cracks snapped through the ice sheet like ballistic gunshots, the passage itself beginning to break up and sheer, the pathway beginning to fall away as Nikana reached the surface and with one defiant leap jumped through a violent haze of updrafted snow and ice to the edge of the crater and continued to run as the original landing area collapsed in on itself.
A short distance away the LAAT/i lay broken on its side, the pilots drained corpse pressed against cracked cockpit glass, like the troopers its blood on the outside, dripping through the cracks in the cockpit and forming frozen red icicles. Nikana shattered the already failed glass, the pilots blood slick body still hung from its harness and quickly froze from the exposure. Scrabbling around the cockpit controls, lights flicked on and off as switches were thrown or buttons pressed, there was still power.
Nikana picked up a wired commlink tied into the ships more powerful communication array and clicked to transmit, "Priority 4. This is recovery team RT-16, requesting EVAC — one survivor. The research facility is completely destroyed, likely rigged to explode after entry", they lied, "it's gone there's nothing left to recover.", Nikana paused momentarily and clicked again to continue transmission, "I live to serve."