Shadow Falls

[Darth Inheris]

​

Tython was ablaze. Across the area that encompassed the old Jedi Academy, the Sith had taken on their offensive with abandon. Enemies had been culled, the halls cleared of what lingered of the Jedi and their life-denying philosophy.

They were the enemy of the Sith. Of the Empire, the only thing that could save this galaxy, even if they and their allies though they knew better. They were fools to think otherwise.

But they would be foolish if they could think such a stunt as Corellia could go unanswered. While Varyn's own strikes at the rebel bases went ahead, and attempts to retake Prakith were forged, here on Tython was a different message entirely.

That the Sith held the balance of the Force. That they would not let the Jedi fail to feel that.

And that meant taking the fight to somewhere the Jedi were attached to. Even if they weren't there in person today, they were there in spirit. That place was Tython. A world that had sat beyond the Empire's reach far too long.

With other actions occurring across the continent, Saorise led her allies to the ruins of the ancient Jedi Academy, to snuff the light from this place once and for all. Her troops waited beyond, holding their ground and manning the perimeter. This battle would be one where their guns would e of little use, she was sure.

Alongside her was Pierre, one she had stood alongside before, a clever and resourceful one who she had faith in. And Harren Skaalvarg, a Deucalian apparently, one versed in the arts of the Old Empire, a sight she was welcoming more and more,

"Here" she said, filling her lungs, her eyes closed as she stood in the centre of the ruined Academy,

"Can you feel it? This place was hard won by the Jedi" the place, no matter the stain the light had put across it, had been a battlefield. One could still feel it, if they knew what they were looking for,

"And now it will be won by us" she concluded, drawing in the force to herself as she took a deep breath once more, remembering the rites and readying herself to be thrown against the light as they drew it out,

"Be on your guard"

@Faster Than Light @Denzein @Malon

 

[Harren Skaalvarg]

Jedi.

It was a word that, until a few short weeks ago, Harren had never heard before. It meant defender, arbitrator, adherent of the Light Side of the Force. It meant heretic, dissident, hanger on to ancient ways that had long since failed. In a way the meaning of the word Jedi held some parallels with the fate of his own people... Not that he would ever voice such a thing. Sith didn't like people talking about the Jedi unless it was a declaration of how they would kill the next one they saw.

When the call went out, that the Sith would strike the very heart of their ancient enemy's culture, Harren left to rendezvous with the forming battlegroup immediately. It was made up of forces from both sides of the Sith Civil War, a sign perhaps that the coming few days might hold something more than a self destructive bloodbath for the order as Darth Vrael sought to make good his claim on the Imperial Republica. Harren didn't care about the politics though, or even about the chance to hurt the nemesis of the order to which he belonged.

No, Harren didn't care about the Jedi at all. He cared about getting stronger. He cared about forging a saga that would last through the ages long after his bones had turned to dust.

His quest for power had brought him to Tython. He walked now alongside a pair of Sith from the Republica - Saorise Kallig, whom he remembered from a duel with Arianna Marris during the Hutta campaign, and a man that introduced himself as Pierre Lindegaard. He did not know the second warrior, though the name sounded Deucalian. Harren was certainly curious to see what the man was capable of, having probably lived in the soft bellied Republica for all his life.

Harren himself, all two nordic metres of him, cut his usual intimidating (if somewhat feral) figure. His blonde hair, a mouhican of dreadlocks and braids tied back into a thick rope that ran down his back, swung lightly with each step he took, and his bearded face was set into a smile that never quite reached his icy blue eyes. He was dressed in a simple black leather jerkin, dark pants and rugged boots with a dark grey mantle of fur draped around his shoulders - though he had at least opted for a pair of sith duelling gauntlets, just in case. His lightsaber was thrust into his belt along with his Deucalian hunting knife, though in truth he wasn't sure how much use either of them (or his gauntlets) were going to be. They weren't expecting physical enemies inside the temple, after all...

Harren wasn't worried. Apprehension and fear just weren't emotions he registered, and besides he was a witch. His own people had tried to kill him for having a connection to the very thing they'd travelled here to corrupt. His impressive physicality here might turn out to be useless, but he was fully prepared to fight with his magicks instead. He'd been taking lessons from Arianna, after all. They were here to perform a ritual that would desecrate this place forever, marking it with the energies that Sith thrived upon and Jedi despised. Saorise was right to bring him for this, she would need a real life witch.

They crossed the threshold into the ruined academy, and the force whispered to Harren as they travelled deep into its bowels. The place was a dump, clearly having been ransacked in times long since passed. The Deucalian instinctively knew he was walking into a mass grave. Finally they came to a stop in a wide chamber strewn with debris and rubbish, which Harren roughly judged to be at the centre of the decimated academy. Saorise spoke, she had the soft accent of someone that knew little real hardship. Harren sniffed the air as she breathed it in, smelling only decaying carpets and musty old books. The force was still there though, always whispering in his ear...

There was something else in this ruin besides them.

"The dead don't rest easy here. Let's get this over with. Pierre, are you ready brother?"

@Faster Than Light @Nightfall @Malon

 

[Pierre Lindegaard]

"Of course" Pierre confidently smirked and snicked as he accompanied the other two Sith. Pierre didn't expect to himself himself on Tython, but he's here. Crusader Kallig contacted him and he's here. The other guy, Harren said the dead don't rest easy here. But really though, what's going to happen? Are a bunch of ghosts going to try and scare the Sith somehow? It's going to take more than being spooky to turn away Pierre Lindegaard. If there are any ghosts of Jedi here or anything, they would most-likely be as ineffectual in death as they were in life.

Even as the Jedi have revealed themselves to the galaxy after centuries of being presumed to be extinct, even with the Mandalorians, they are all doomed to repeat history. The Mandalorians will be once again be brought under the heel of the Sith again, and the Jedi will be purged from the galaxy once more. Kallig insists this will send a clear message to the Jedi. In the end, what is waiting for enemies of the Sith will come in time.

So, the three are here to do a dark side ritual to defile the place. Usually this kind of hocus-pocus is something that you'd bring Old Empire Sith for. Harren is one of them, but he'll follow Crusader Kallig's lead for this one. Pierre has the dark side with him, and he supposes that's all he needs.

Pierre is well-acquainted with Kallig. Harren isn't someone he's met until today. He is a Deucalian isn't he? Aren't they a culture of savages? Fitting that he's with the Old Empire... Still he will be good help.

Honestly Pierre is surprised that this hasn't been done already, to defile the place, erase the ruins from the annuls of history and then build their own temple on top of it as they've done on Ossus five-hundred years ago, but here they are.

Pierre's smirk dropped not long after. These ruins, he doesn't like this place one bit. He did of course heed the Kuati woman's advice, the acolyte would be on his guard. He would have lightsabers on both his sides on his belt that can easily be drawn into hands or pulled them. He had his usual standard equipment as well. As they gathered here, Pierre would draw the dark side of the Force to him. You can never know what you will find here.

Like Harren, Pierre is all for just getting this over with as well. Pierre is ready for the next step.

@Malon @Nightfall @Denzein

 

[Wyck]

"Tough, you must feel, setting an old ruin ablaze." A ghostly voice cut through the shadows. It was accompanied by a shimmering of light as the spirit of a small, toadlike Jedi Master appeared meters away on a fallen pillar. The ghost, or, rather, the creature it had once been was wizened and old. A pillar of light in the darkness, and perhaps the strongest sensation within the Force than any of the three men standing below it had ever felt. The spirit of Wyck, long dead Grand Master of the Jedi Order, chuckled sagely, "How the mighty Sith have fallen. Five hundred years abandoned, Tython is. Conquered by Sith greater than you, long ago. Think you are conquerers for setting blaze to a ruin? Hm?"

Even as a spirit, the Jedi Master was undeniably powerful. He was one with the very energy-field these children pretended to have use, and he had abandoned the use of a lightsaber when he had abandoned his body centuries prior. But what he could do with the Force... these Sith were about to find out just how terrifying a champion of the light side of the Force could be. The centuries had eroded their fear and caution of their ancient enemies. And Wyck, ever the teacher, even now, five hundred years dead, saw it as his duty to remind them.

Overhead, a thundercloud boomed. The clash of darkness and light in the Force were beginning to disturb Tython's careful balance. A Force storm was brewing. The long-dead Grand Master, because he could see both past, present, and future, thanks to his connection to the Force, knew that they had never seen the fury of such a storm and weren't like to want to witness it. He warned them, "Quick, we should make this," he said. His voice was quieter now. "Caught in the open during a Force storm, you do not want to be."

The shimmering, translucent, elderly Jedi Master spread his ghostly hands apart. "Let us see what the progeny of Andraste are capable of, hm?"

OOC - Sorry for the wait, guys! I should be more punctual with future replies. Wyck here is as strong as he was in life. Don't underestimate him ;) Size matters not, after all. @Nightfall @Faster Than Light @Denzein

 

[Darth Inheris]

Swords would be no more use here, it seemed.

As the force rippled around her, she felt the newcomer before she ever heard his voice. A clear beacon in the force, something that scalded at the darkness she and her compatriots and deigned to bring to the land. It was hard not to be shocked, almost impressed, when she discovered the figure glowed with a blue light, ever so translucent in the light.

The power of it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she turned to face the being that appeared within the ruins. As she felt the pull of the light upon her, she consciously made an effort to reach out with her feelings, and draw the dark side to her in response, feeding herself on it and steadying herself in the face of the thing, readying herself for what might come,

"And yet here you are, deigning to defend it. It's not merely a ruin to what's left of your Order, I know that much. I've no doubt they remember, that they will feel what happens here" she interjected. Their apparent challenger could be none other than one of that dead breed, still as blind to the truth before them as the rest had been so long ago,

"But, it seems you are still as stubborn and foolish as the Jedi always were" she took her time with her words, stalking to the side and closer to the figure as she replied, still drawing the force to her as the force storm brewed overhead, she didn't need to look up to feel it oncoming now

"But ah, you will soon find out" she replied sharply after the spirits final words, and not for want of action, Saorise simultaneously as she spoke fired off a sudden charge of Force Lightning at the figure, shooting at speed toward them. A power most antithetical to the light, it would be just the right introduction, and reminder for the long dead, and forgotten Jedi.

She had no doubt her allies, trained soldiers too, would be ready to attack alongside her, to burn this thing away, force it down so that they might fulfill their task.

@Faster Than Light @Denzein @Malon

 

[Harren Skaalvarg]

"See? Told you so. Spirits all over this damned rock."

Harren, ever the superstitious one, was unsurprised when the diminutive ghostly blue figure materialised on the other side of the large room. The being's power however was immense - more than anything he had ever witnessed by a long way, certainly more than any of theirs... Harren only hoped the three of them working as one would be enough to overcome this champion of the Jedi long passed.

He didn't address the apparition directly, for that was a waste of time as far as he could see and he'd rather use it to focus on building himself within the force, which he began to do. Kallig engaged it in conversation, but what she hoped to achieve he could only guess - it would mock them, belittle them, and if they let it it would kill them here... The only recourse was to send it back from whence it came. Whether they could? Harren was itching to find out.

This was the single most dangerous enemy he'd ever faced. He grinned, and his eyes flashed wildly in the gloom. The Deucalian relished the challenge.

The force was in turmoil, the stormclouds gathering overhead. For all Harren knew the ghost could be calling the tempest, all the more reason to banish it back to hel before the storm broke over them all. He drew all the might he could to himself, feeling the telltale signs of rage building in the base of his gut, his blood running hot with the force, anger and the anticipation of battle. He loved fighting, he cherished every moment of it he could get - be it with another, the harsh climate of a hostile world or even his own inner demons. He was a warrior in every sense, and this was just another fight. The force grew within him, drowning out the foreboding power of the rumbling storm above, becoming an all consuming drum beat inside his head.

Then, totally unbidden, the recent memory of Doz sprang into his mind. His fallen comrade, whom Harren pushed out to sea on a makeshift pyre of branches and vines and cremated, who'd otherwise been left to rot on Al'doleem. His first ally among the Sith, his shield sister, his drinking partner, his friend. He'd have leapt into the mouth of hel itself for her... Only he couldn't, not any more. He'd been robbed of the chance to save her when he'd found her rotting corpse, left out for the carrion.

The Jedi did that, them and their rebel friends. Harren stopped smiling.

Saorise struck out with force summoned lightning, and the dark side energy she gave off was a match that lit the fuse of a rapidly expanding bomb. The gathered force inside him exploded into life and he roared out, in anguish as much as in rage - the dark side in all its passionate fury erupting from him in every direction. It was the very antithesis of what this little Jedi ghost stood for, Harren's fervent need to see the Jedi suffer for killing his friend, and an aura that would combat the light side of the force in this place as strongly as Harren knew how... Not that this was a fully intentional attack, such was the nature of his force induced rage.

Despite all his anger, all his passion, all his hot-blooded fury at the little blue demon sitting before him, the tiny, rational and unfrenzied part of his brain fought to get some purchase as he lapsed fully into the dark side: Everything he could muster just would not be enough against this foe, not alone. He'd need these Sith from the Republica, he'd need everything they had.

At the same time as Saorise blasted the thing with lighting, Harren's rage filled aura would serve to weaken the bonds of the light side of the force. He raised a hand and directed his fury at the ghost - not lightning, for Harren had never learned how to maintain such a power for a sustained blow. Instead he assailed it with the aura of the darkside itself, trying to exorcise the ghost with fury and hate, to make it feel the rage he did - a crude and unpracticed but infectiously effective weapon if one relied solely on a connection to the light side to exist.

Harren was not new to force empowered rages, he lapsed into one almost every time he fought for longer than a few moments. The aura would strengthen for the longer it went on, for the longer he was consumed by his hate and sense of loss. He'd be exhausted afterwards, incredibly so - but not yet, not until the rage was spent. The only question was whether or not he could keep up the ferocious display until the demon was dead...

@Faster Than Light @Nightfall @Malon (OOC: The attack is the last two paragraphs really, sorry for getting carried away I really enjoyed writing this one!)

 

[Pierre Lindegaard]

"Oh." he muttered when his eyes saw the spirit. Apparently ghosts do watch over this place. Pierre was puzzled when he saw Wyck's Force Ghost on the fallen Pillar over there. He doesn't know who this frog is, but if he's somehow a Jedi who turned into a spirit on this plane (as opposed to the many many Jedi who have died and stayed dead), he might have been pretty important as far as Jedi go. The Jedi have been known in the Sith books for being self-righteous and their self-righteousness led them to ruin. For the newly revealed Jedi history will repeat itself. Pierre listened to the late Grandmasters words and soon after Pierre's expression turned into contempt. The super arrogant Pierre Lindegaard doesn't actually care what the spirit of a Jedi dead from five-hundred years ago actually has to say. He's literally a ghost of bygone age and nothing more in the Corulagi's mind. But the feeling of the lightside from him. So pure... so radiant...

Disgusting.

Although when the thundercloud boomed, he shifted his head towards that direction. There is a storm... They still have a ritual to finish and a temple to defile. Saorise felt the need to justify her actions. Honestly the Sith can do whatever they want and they don't have to justify anything to anyone,but Pierre had a pretty good idea of what she was going to do next and he was ready to act as well. Even with the presence of the light here and the impending thundercloud coming in, Pierre still had and was still drawing the all-powerful Dark Side to him.

In concert with Saorise, he reached out with the force he's has had gathered up putting both of his hands into it, firing off force lightning of his own at the force spirit, both their uses of lightning going at the same time. Although Pierre's force lightning isn't as powerful as Saorise's, by combining the power of the Sith present they will wash away this disgusting this lightside radiance from here and this ghost along with it. Pierre smirked as he fired off his attack while while concentrating, confident in the Sith's abilities.

@Nightfall @Denzein @Malon

 

[Pierre Lindegaard]

OOC: It's been 48 hours since the last Sith post, so timeout. :|

And just like that, the Dark Side of the Force filled these chambers unopposed. Although the lightning can't really hit an incorporeal Force spirit and you can't kill them conventionally (that and he is kind of already dead), that's not what it was meant to do. It was all about the all-mighty power of the Dark Side washing Wyck's presence away, which it managed to succeed in doing. After it was all said and done, it was the the cold and chill of the darkness would linger in this chamber instead of the purity of the light.

After the (metaphorical) smoke was cleared, Pierre would then look towards his partners Saorise and the Deucalian. "Well, how about that ritual now? Lets get it over with." He then looked forward again. The sooner it's done the better. And might as well get it over with now that they are in the full clear, there is no telling if there are more Jedi spirits coming or what.

@Denzein @Nightfall @Malon

 

[Harren Skaalvarg]

Harren's rage boiled through him as the darkness rose around all three of them, strangling the light side of the force in this place and tainting it forever. He was angry that Doz was dead, he was angry that the Jedi killed her, he was furious he hadn't been there and he was incensed that this odd little ghost saw fit to mock them. Roaring out again, he clenched his fist as the force rage strengthened its grip on the powerfully built Deucalian.

A flash of real lighting through a hole in the roof, an ominous low clap of thunder. The demon dissipated like so much smoke.

And just like that, Harren was spent - as if the light being banished from this place left his rage with nothing to rail against, no opponent to kill, and so it left its host to go elsewhere. He dropped to one knee and put a hand to the floor to steady himself almost instantaneously with the ghost's vanishing, panting lightly even after just a few seconds of such an intense channelling of power. It'd not been the protracted battle he'd been expecting from a presence that resonated so strongly with the force, and honestly that looked like it was a good thing. He'd been using more power up than he should have if he was expecting to have to go a few rounds... Rages were exhausting and very difficult to regulate once he was in one.

That said? Now his anger was ebbing away to be replaced once more by his normal, typically nordic self, a thought popped into his head: They weren't necessarily through with the demon, it went down far too easily. Forcing himself to his feet and spitting, he looked to his allies - checking their status. They looked fine, fresher than he by anyone's measure. Pierre spoke, voicing his desire to see their efforts on Tython be concluded quickly. Harren agreed and nodded his assent.

He didn't rise immediately, shutting his eyes and calming himself, quieting the last shreds of anger that still smouldered away in his gut. He reached out with his mind and felt nothing, no presence in this place besides them, no energy beyond the overwhelming darkness that had filled this room. Beyond that? The massive storm brewing above them confounded all attempts to sense any further. In any case, the demon was gone for now even if it wasn't actually dead - he honestly didn't know how to kill something that powerful for good.

They had bought themselves a window with which to complete the desecration of Tython, and a pall of darkness to protect them from any other light side spirits that might wish them harm. They had done well - now all that was left was to make sure their damage here was permanent, that it would last through the millennia and ensure the Jedi never forgot their names.

Harren, having finally caught his breath, winked at Saorise and forced a half smile.

"I'm ready if you are, sister. The damage is almost done it feels, but we must finish this work fast. That storm has not gone away, it was not the devil's work."
@Faster Than Light @Nightfall

 

[Darth Inheris]

"Aye. More than ready to" Saorise replied quickly to the pair that stood alongside her, her voice lilting, quizzical as she stared at the spot where the spirit had been, the storm clouds covering what light had shone there before. That thing that had appeared to them, so ready it seemed to stop them, test them. Perhaps it had. Perhaps it was there to test their resolve, to see if they were truly ready to take this place. If it had even been there at all.

Tython was a nexus of the lightside, perhaps it had merely been a manifestation of that? Whatever it had been, its strength had been undeniable. And yet now, only a faint glimmer of that feeling still lingered about, slowly dispersing away as the sheer physical terror of the force storm slowly weighed upon them, encroaching on their location,

"A circle, form up. Let's make this place our own" She said, shaking herself from her trance and joining her allies. There was little left to do now it seemed, though time was against them no matter what.

Walking now with purpose, she turned and stalked to the centre of the ruins, holding herself tall and straight. Closing her eyes, she reached out to her allies and into the force, seeking down into the planets nexus, and finding the inescapable piece of the dark side that had to lay within it. That was where they would draw their strength into themselves.

What she had prepared was no spoken ritual, nothing so arcane and self-parodying. Despite her growing allegiance to the Old Empire, she had not yet fully embraced such ways. Instead this would be something for each of them to feel individually, to force through into the world and effect. As was the way of the Sith.

For her then there would be no theatrics, no great sights or sounds, but merely the rumbling within herself, the heady feeling of the force and it warped within and around her, make her will manifest upon the land. It had been a great many centuries since the Sith had done so on this planet, and they would do so again.

@Faster Than Light @Denzein

 

[Harren Skaalvarg]

As Saorise's instruction, Harren took his place around to her from her left. The storm rumbled outside, getting steadily worse - it was time to commit their ritual and leave... For the Deucalian knew well the destructive power of storms, and of the force, and though he was curious to see what could be wrought when the two were combined he felt much more comfortable about watching from outside rather than enduring the tempest's wrath.

The rage inside him, quietened by the vanishing of their enemy, burned low in his belly. He shut his eyes and bowed his head, breathing deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth - focusing on the absence of the light that now filled this place. Harren wasn't someone deeply in touch with the dark side of the force, in so much as he didn't draw on negative emotions often (and when he did, it was invariably thanks to some circumstance or another and tipped him into a full on berserker frenzy). He used his passions and his emotions to fuel his fire, but so much of what Harren felt wasn't dark, or twisted. He loved battle, he drank, he sang, he lay with as many women as he could get his meaty hands on. Harren was a man of many passions, and each and every one of them rose to the forefront of his mind as he focused on the aspects of the force that most called to him.

They were the darkside too, as much as anger and hate and fear ever could be. The light was cold and unfeeling.

His passions swirled around him in an intangible tornado, intermingled with the unresolved anger he still felt at the loss of his friend Doz - the same anger that had caused his earlier bout of rage. It was a deep reservoir of emotion to draw upon, and as such more than enough power when combined with the other two and the total absence of the light the banishment of the ghost had caused, to provide the raw psychic muscle required, the might needed for their ritual.

Let the other two refine the energy into whatever spell they wished to weave. Harren was content to leave his own mark in the ruined academy of Tython - a jagged, vicious scar in the force made of pure emotion and passion that would never, ever fade. He poured a part of himself into that place, a tiny piece of his nordic, beserker rage prone soul. He could feel the other two complementing his efforts, weaving the ritual in silence, ensuring their own marks on this place would be made permanent too thanks to the storm and the all pervasive darkness whirling around them. In truth, perhaps what they'd came here to do just would not have been possible with the demon's bright power still wandering the halls.

Harren wondered what foul corner of hel the fiend had found itself on now. @Faster Than Light @Nightfall

 

[Pierre Lindegaard]

When Saorise suggested they form up in a circle, Pierre took the right while Harren to her left, not wasting any time even before she finished speaking because what is brewing up outside. He silently curious going into this beforehand if they were going to hold hands or anything like that while doing the ritual. That's not the case which is okay. While maybe he wouldn't mind holding hands with Saorise he would prefer that he didn't touch the Deucalian man anywhere.

Pierre would close his eyes along with the others. Not long ago he had his blood flowing and made use Dark Side's trademark Force Lightning abilities. Those dark energies would still be coursing through him he would draw the force to himself drawing upon the drawing the Dark Side to himself. He would have a venomous smirk beneath his mask with his eyes as he would then be lending his power to corrupt the place,. Pierre like Saorise isn't familiar with the Old Empire ways. He knows no arcane magick or the myriad of dark side rituals. What Pierre does have though is his his passion and pride, which thankfully are emotions one can use to feed their connection to the dark side. He is kind of thankful that no words were needed for this and instead let his presence in the Dark Side do the talking for him as Pierre is imposing his will as well.

The light being snuffed away is quite the feeling and the satisfaction at his and his fellow Sith's handiwork is quite pleasant. All he would soon be able to feel is the Darkness pouring forth readivly from his allies and from himself as the Ritual is started.

@Nightfall @Denzein

 

[Darth Inheris]

Theme​

Finally.

They had returned.

As the trio felt the fury of the Force course through their bodies, the collected energies were a wonder to feel, only further amplified by the approaching Force Storm upon the area. While the could not harness it, the warping of the air and energies around them would be clear, even to the force blind among the ranks of soldiers that had accompanied them for this final step.

Not often did Saorise search so deeply into the force, feel so fully the way that the Dark side might be channeled through her, lived inside. Something of it still scared her, something deep, primal, even honest that still lingered inside. Something that knew, such power shouldn't be.

And yet, it was. And it did. Truly, a dangerous gift to wield.

She had to wonder if the Jedi, in his sleepless death, lingering beyond the world. Could he feel what they had done? Did he know this was to pass?

A fool then, come only to mock and chide. The stubbornness and pride of the Jedi held long after their death it seemed, unable to see what the galaxy had become in their absence. What it still might become, needed to become. Here was merely a warning, a mark to the Jedi not to stop it. A reminder that they had died once, and would again.

Part of her did not swell yet with pride though, a part still uncertain of such ways, ways that hewed to close to the Old Empire, and their dangerous magicks. A part, for now, she swallowed, gritted her teeth against as she felt the light side snap beneath them, crumble away like sand, leaving only the strength of the Sith in its way.

The Jedi were the past of this galaxy, barbaric and disordered, they did not, and could not, have kept the galaxy safe. Only this Empire could do that.

The Jedi were the past. And here, the past had died, killed by what was to take its place.

A great victory indeed.

/EndThread.

@Faster Than Light @Denzein @Malon