TAC
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Nov 20, 2012
- Messages
- 4,549
- Reaction score
- 1,093
Theme
That hour was a dark one.
The hour when the Galactic Alliance fell to the New Sith Imperium...
When the Jedi's backs were turned...
And when the Sith won.
That hour was a dark one.
The hour when the Galactic Alliance fell to the New Sith Imperium...
When the Jedi's backs were turned...
And when the Sith won.
But the hour hadn't stopped there. The hour bled in to two, and those two hours into an entire day. And that day multiplied, slowly, into a week. A whole week had come to pass since the Galactic Alliance had felt it's death blow. The hallow remnants of Coruscant no longer claimed their majesty, the dominance they had once enjoyed. The left torn, ruined, a monument to the destruction that the world had seen with the falling of the Galactic Alliance. And even with all of that, it was far from over.
The era of the New Sith Imperium had just begun.
Around the galaxy, the remnants of the Galactic Alliance armed themselves. Prepared for the individual onslaught now that their combined defense had been virtually destroyed. It would be futile- they all knew it. But there was a hope just beyond the horizon, a need to stand and defend themselves in the face of this threat. So stand they would, and fall they would.
Somewhere in the mid-rim, far from the advancing lines of the Sith, a woman sat in a small apartment. The small living quarters did not see regular usage- but rather, was a place for those who needed it most to stop, and even hide. Few knew about it, and even fewer knew who inhabited it when they did. The woman was dressed like any other common woman might- a simple white shirt, jeans. A blaster hung on a holster at her hip, though, and a fountain of red hair sprawled down her back.
She had been on Coruscant, during those final hours. Had seen it.
It was horrible.
It was horrible.
Now, though, she simply sat. A warm mug of something delicious- although nonalcoholic- sat on the table. Her right hand was curled around it, her eyes glued to the HoloNet News. Images of a burning temple, a destroyed world, and a fleeting hope plagued her. Around her, a young boy of five years old ran around her stool and the table. He was the next generation of what she was- the old guard. Those that recognized the destruction that the Sith wrought. Those that didn't need to watch it on the HoloNet to understand it, but did anyways. She was an Imperial Knight.
And not only an Imperial Knight, but the second in command of that organization.
She was the Duchess of Arabanth.
Mother of Caleb Fel.
Defend of the True Throne.
But today, she was a woman with a tear in her eye.
She was the Duchess of Arabanth.
Mother of Caleb Fel.
Defend of the True Throne.
But today, she was a woman with a tear in her eye.