“It is all the wealth I need,” Bane said, his voice no more than a cold breath.
By the shimmering light of his weapon, he saw that the air inside the chamber was threaded with strands of silvery, sticky webs. Rounded encrustations like armored barnacles plated the low ceiling. The alcove had a claustrophobic and brooding aura, and Bane hesitated.
“In there, you must take the holocron,” Kaan’s booming voice insisted.
Pushing aside his doubts, Darth Bane entered the chamber, knocking aside the gossamer webs. He stood looking down at the vital holocron, awed.
Above him, he heard a wet movement, a slurping sound, and looked up to see the rounded encrustations shifting about as if wakened by his presence. Gelid strands drooled down like thin droplets of saliva. He ducked as one of the barnacle-things released its grip on the ceiling and dropped onto him.
He knocked the hard shell aside, then slapped at another sailing barnacle with his lightsaber. Amazingly, though it ricocheted away, the encrustation was not destroyed by the energy blade.
The barnacle-things began to rain down from the ceiling in greater numbers. One struck him on the left shoulder blade, and instantly the shell fastened itself to his flesh, as if it were a gigantic sucker. It acid-burned through the fabric of Bane’s thick garment and sealed itself to the meat of his back.
The agony was indescribable.
He screamed and thrashed, trying to claw the encrustation from his shoulder. He arched his back and looked up just in time to see a larger object fall to the center of his chest, instantly fastening there with an unbelievable grip.
Bane shouted with the pain and wrenched at it, but the barnacle-creature had already eaten through his chest and seared into his pectorals, welding itself to his breastbone. He pulled and tugged, but the parasite stuck tight.
The remaining creatures burbled and moved about on the ceiling, anticipating. Still holding his lightsaber in one hand, Bane yanked out the black-bladed dagger from his waist. The razor-sharp knife glinted in the sickly light of the tomb chamber. He stabbed at the barnacle-creature, but the blade bounced off the parasite’s shell, making no mark. Gritting his teeth, Bane slashed at his own skin to peel away his flesh from the edges of the thick, living encrustation. Dark blood welled up, and he cut deeper, digging with the knife’s black tip to pry the creature off.
To his astonishment, though, as he made the incision, Bane watched the wound seal itself together, healing within moments. The pain remained, a stinging, throbbing sensation through his nerves.
“You led me here!” he shouted, looking for the avatar of Lord Kaan. “You lured me into this chamber.” He used his fist and the blunt hilt of his dagger to pound the armored creature, but he felt somewhat stronger now, rejuvenated - - and betrayed. “What are these things?”
Now Lord Qordis appeared within the tomb, his black avatar rippling beside the shadow of Kaan. “They are called orbalisks,” Qordis said, his face twisting into a smirk. “In time, you will come to realize the advantages of such symbiotes.”
Lord Kaan spoke, his voice like iron, unsympathetic. “They are a small price, Bane - - are you willing to pay nothing to achieve your destiny?”
On the ceiling of the alcove, the orbalisks continued to simmer and move, but they left him alone now that he was infested. Fire burned through his skin from his chest and his shoulder where the parasitic barnacles increased their hold on his body, digging deeper, securing themselves.
Darth Bane clenched his teeth and sneered at the specters of Kaan and Qordis. In their dark eyes he found the strength to suppress the pain. He picked up the Sith holocron. The ancient relic waited for him, calling out evil promises. There were no longer any obstacles in his way.
He switched off his lightsaber blade, realizing that he could see and sense everything in the chamber. He knelt on the cold, slimy floor, ignoring the orbalisks above and everything else on Dxun. He hunched over the holocron and held it in his hands amid the dripping opalescent webs.
He activated the holocron and felt as if he were falling into an unending pit of wonders, information… and opportunities. He sat all alone, lost in the amazing library of darkness…
Entranced and inspired by the knowledge he drank from the Sith holocron, Darth Bane paid no heed to the time that passed while he huddled in the dank chamber of Freedon Nadd’s tomb.
Later, much later, he emerged, his body stiff and sore, his mind aching and overfilled with secrets. He made his way back through the narrow, claustrophobic passages of the crypt and stepped out into the rank air of the beast moon.
The storm had passed, and the ground had dried. Many days must have gone by, but Bane felt neither weak nor hungry. He blinked. Even in the smoky, hazy light of Dxun, he had to hood his vision. He grasped the cold iron wall of the tomb to steady himself. Looking down at his chest, he saw that the puckered, scaly orbalisk had begun to bud, spreading out around the fringes in a larger area across his chest. No doubt the other one was also spreading on his back. Eventually, they would probably cover his body. Though the barnacle-like creatures were feeding on him, growing to cover more of his skin surface, the parasites were also pumping him with adrenaline and strength. This was a symbiotic relationship based on dark side energies, and now - - after he had absorbed the knowledge within the Sith holocron - - Darth Bane knew there would be enough dark side power for them all.