Epilogue

…And A Beginning for Every End

Ist watched the sky in horror.

First, the rest of their fleet had arrived, only for the stolen Imperial ship to literally materialize between the Terrasque and the fleet, taking the brunt of a devastating attack, and being utterly destroyed. Minutes later, as the massive Imperial ship went silent, suddenly Ist's comm burst into activity.

Minor rebel cells all across the Galaxy were reporting in on all open channels. Imperial ships started simply self destructing across the Galaxy, as though by the will of some almighty being. Finally, the Terrasque turned away, jumping to Hyperspace directly into the nearest star, exploding with a brilliant flare of light.

"What just happened?" one of the nearby Jedi said, even as the entire crowd of rebels, Jedi, and citizens of the planet watched in silence.

"I think…" Ist said slowly, "We just won the war."

Shuttles started landing, releasing more rebel troopers, and they surged toward securing the temple ground completely, subduing any resisting Imperial they could find.

Ist felt drawn to one of the shuttles, and found Jedi Lord Berethon there, his repulsorchair descending the ramp alongside the remaining Jedi Masters from the interim Council. "Jedi Knight Ist," Berethon said, smiling up at her from his permanent seat, "I believe we have much to thank you for, in keeping our forces together while the unbelievable happened."

She was about to reply, denying that she had much involvement in the proceedings, but the Jedi Lord held up a hand, "there will be time for that later," he said. "We need to fortify the Temple against the return of the Emperor. The hour of darkness hasn't passed just yet, and if the stirrings in the Force are telling me correctly, he still lives."

Ist nodded, understanding. The pallor of the Dark Side was filling the whole of the Galaxy like a wave of miasma. Something major was happening regarding the Emperor, the only being that held the power to be felt from such a massive distance.

"Come, let's get everyone who can inside the temple grounds, and begin lockdown procedures." Berethon urged, and they turned to enter their home for the first time officially since the end of the first Neo-Sith War.

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Veneficus felt the powerful enchantment start to take hold. It was one of his own design; a spell meant to seal away from the memory of the Galaxy all those who he felt unworthy of existing, now being used against him. Lovegood, now Talzin from what he read in her scrambled and deranged memories, would take everything from him in her own pursuit of revenge, and then turn on Diábolis once she had finished.

The fool had to have realized this, but he would be powerless to stop her if she focused all her attention on him. The spell doomed Veneficus, but he would not allow his legacy to be destroyed so easily.

Roaring with rage as the final enchantment settled in, he lashed out with a burst of lightning, forcing the witch backward, and rose unsteadily to his feet. The searing hole in his chest had grazed his blackened heart, and he would indeed die without the Elixir of Life, also stolen by his contemptuous apprentice.

How amusing that everything unwound so perfectly against him, he mused momentarily. Leveling all his skill and power in the Force against Talzin, he forced her back further and further, until he had space to draw the Elder Wand. Smirking, he deftly broke the powerful artifact, hurling the remnants at his foe even as the magic within the tool started to backfire.

Talzin's eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen, and apparated away in a cloud of green smoke. Veneficus turned, charging his former apprentice, and grabbing the Devaronian as the wand exploded in a burst of intense power.

Twisting them through space, the two sith landed heavily in the ruins of the academy, far from the blast site, and hopefully well away from Talzin and her manipulation. Diábolis shoved him away, and Veneficus, suddenly so devoid of excess strength, fell to the ground.

"What trick is this?" the younger sith asked, edging closer as Veneficus mustered only enough strength to prop himself against a crumbled pile of rubble.

Veneficus couldn't help it. He laughed, blood leaking from his mouth as the mirth of the moment escaped him. "Oh to be so youthful and foolish once again," he mused, suddenly nostalgic. "She was planning on killing you right after dealing with me," he said.

"I could have handled her," Diábolis said, almost eagerly falling back into the role of stubborn apprentice.

But Veneficus shook his head, "I doubt that very much." He wheezed, realizing that one of his lungs had been pierced in the stab wound killing him, "She had stolen much of my magical knowledge, and would have been capable of ending you swiftly."

"So you spent the last of your energy to do what exactly?" Diábolis asked, calculating, "you are dying, anyone can see that, and that spell would do what exactly? Erase you from all recollection?"

"After a fashion," Veneficus replied honestly. There was no further point in deception between them, and both Sith knew it. Diábolis had won, even if not completely through his own merit. He was the Sith Master now, from the very moment that Veneficus died, which was coming soon.

Coughing to clear his throat, Veneficus was keenly aware that blood was splattered from his mouth, but he lacked energy to actually do anything about it. "You were my first choice of apprentice for a reason…" he wheezed, "but now the entire Order is in jeopardy, because of our actions…"

"Explain yourself, old man, I'm as strong as ever," Diábolis said sternly.

"For now…" Veneficus said, resting his eyes as he spoke. Was this what it felt like to be dying? "The Elixir of Life is rejuvenating at first, but you're getting a continual dose because the stone is now part of you. In time, it'll change to a toxin and you will rapidly deteriorate."

Continuing to speak was growing harder. Veneficus could feel the darkness closing in around him. He tried to keep talking, to give the important information that Diábolis would need in order to preserve the Order of the Sith Lords, but it came out as a mumble.

Blearily he heard something loud, and suddenly his entire body jolted with electric pain, reinvigorating him. Grasping that pain, he used the Dark Side to energize himself. "You need an apprentice, and soon. You must pass on what I've taught you." He said.

"But we still control the Galaxy, the Empire…" Diábolis started, but Veneficus shook his head.

"…will fall. It's already begun. The Jedi and the Republic will return." He said slowly, opening his eyes. He could tell that in his delirium he had been thrown into the most lucid vision of his long lifetime, and from Diábolis reaction Veneficus knew that his eyes showed it."

"The Republic will return, and in time when I am forgotten they will resume their golden age from before the war. Magi-technology will disappear, and the Mage-born will rapidly vanish from all memory – a side effect of Talzin's spell. The Sith will become a long lost fear, a shadow of their former glory, but those of our line will rise once more, in the distant future."

"Where shall I go to make sure we succeed in the future," Diábolis asked, and Veneficus looked, not seeing specifics but knowing the answer that was needed.

"The Dark Side will guide you to the worthy candidate. Trust it and your instincts. Infiltrate the underworld of the Galaxy that will reform after the Republic, and you will effectively disappear."

"All the holocrons, the texts, everything is in your palace on Coruscant…" Diábolis said, anger clear in his voice, "How can I train an apprentice using only what I know and what you taught me."

"Not… all of it…" Veneficus said, feeling the energy he siphoned from the burst of lightning already fading, "There is more in a special place, once you've done what I expect of you with regards to my final resting place, you will find everything you need."

"You really thought of everything, didn't you…?" Diábolis mused, even as Veneficus felt his eyes close once more, without his active choice to do so.

"Of course…" he breathed, "Only a fool with foresight fails to prepare for that which he hasn't foreseen."

"Rest now, my Master, and let me take on the work of the Sith," Darth Diábolis said, almost whispering. The hatred was still present between them, Veneficus knew this as he let the darkness consume him. But at the same time, they had retained their respect for each other, even in the end.

But was it the end for him? Veneficus felt a tiny spark of humor as he cast his last spell, and invoked with the Force his final escape plan.

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Yoda gazed around what was once the High Council Chamber of the Jedi Order. Several months had passed with no recourse from the Emperor, and slowly the Empire fell apart under the weight of its own ambition. Systems suddenly free from the tyranny of the Sith rallied, formed their own unions for protection, and as one turned to look at Coruscant and the Rebellion that had succeeded in dismantling the core of the Imperial holdings.

Slowly the Jedi had been consolidating those systems, calling for a reassembly of the Republic, and bringing elected senators from each world back to the former Rotunda. In time there would be a new Chancellor, and slowly the government of the Galaxy would return to the order they once enjoyed.

In the Jedi Order, under Lord Berethon, the restoration of the Temple was underway. All Sith artifacts were stored deep under the vaults, in a formerly hidden place that their old enemy had uncovered. Once they had all been collected, the Jedi would seal it forever, and lock away all that Darkness under their beacon of Light.

"Master Yoda," said the Jedi Lord at the goblin's side, "It is time."

"Time? For what may I ask?" Yoda said, turning to look at the very old Jedi.

Still entombed in his repuslorchair, the Corellian Jedi was quite frail now; lack of action and physical demands making certain that the human grew old before his time.

"Time for the Jedi to have a full High Council once more," Lord Berethon clarified, "and a new Grandmaster to lead it."

Yoda's confusion must have shown, because the human chuckled. "I may have served decently enough as an interim leader of the Jedi, but I am not suited for this. I wish to return to my holdings on Corellia, and live out the last of my days protecting the world that I love. Until then, we need a new leader for the Jedi as a whole, one that can unite all the splintered fractions of Force users throughout the Galaxy, and has the legendary reputation to support their strength."

"Then go, we shall, and arrange what we must," Yoda said.

Despite the lingering taint of the Dark Side, the original seats of the High Council had been found, and replaced in their original spots around the circular chamber. They only had half of a full Council, but seated around the Circle was Jedi Lord Berethon, his repusorchair momentarily replacing an actual seat, Jedi Master Restelly Quist, the Chief Librarian from before the war, Besalisk Master Obo Fequell, the ancient Battlemaster returned from her retirement of the title. Chiss Master Tega'oven'remous sat next to Iktotchi Master Sisho Nefamm. Finally Sullustan Jedi Xic Freirty sat next to Lord Berethon, all looking around at the empty seats with grim determination.

"Master Yoda, summon the remaining Knights and Masters," Lord Berethon requested, and the goblin Jedi complied, sending out a general communication.

Slowly figures started to spear, so few that they all fit comfortably into the standing areas of the chamber, or else along the walls outside the chief circle, while those unable to attend in person had holograms of themselves in place.

"My friends, and fellow Jedi," Lord Berethon started, "We've overcome so much hardship in the past years, fought great battles and at last have recovered our home from the unrelenting fist of the Sith." There were mutters of appreciation that circulated for a time, before the group fell silent once more.

"It is time at last to reform this High Council, with Jedi Masters recognized for their bravery, talents, and wisdom. Jedi Knight Kell Guesto, step forward," Berethon said, even as the five other masters stood. The Clawdite stepped forward, his form seeming to ripple slightly as he kneeled in the center of the circle and the Masters gathered around him, hands placed upon his head.

"This council of Masters finds you worthy," Berethon stated solemnly, "and grant you the rank and title of Jedi Master, High Councilor of the Order, and ask that you join us to govern in harmony and peace."

"I accept this calling," Jedi Master Guesto replied, rising and joining the circle of master as Lord Berethon called one by one the new members of the High Council. Joining Guesto were Jedi Knights Nrin Dyz, Deres Umba, Bela Deshlatin, and Kattar Yedit. The final member came as a shock to Yoda however.

"Jedi Knight Ist Narrah, step forward," Lord Berethon called, and the Bothan that had been Yoda's Padawan so long ago stepped forward hesitantly, and received her call to the High Council. Yoda could not have been more proud of his student's achievements.

"The Council is formed," Lord Berethon said, even as the other eleven new and old Jedi Masters took their seats. An appropriately solemn smattering of applause sounded for a few moments, but Lord Berethon held up a hand for silence. "As many of you know. I did not take up the role of Grandmaster of the Order. I was the last member of the previous council, even if the reasoning for my appointment were due to the threat of the Sith. I am stepping down as leader of the Jedi Order, to live out the rest of my days in comfort and peace, taking the Green Jedi back to our homeworld and rebuilding our culture there."

From the back, Jedi Lord Teepo nodded, seeming to have similar feelings. Around the room, Green Jedi and Teepo Paladins were smiling. They had been valued allies, but they had their own concerns and objectives to see to now that the war had ended.

"To that end," Lord Berethon, continued, "I ask the new High Council to reinstate the role of Grandmaster, to the final candidate that we six had chosen."

There was a pregnant pause, where many of the young Padawans looked around to try and see who was chosen before they were named. "Master Yoda, step forward." Lord Berethon said, gesturing for the Goblin Jedi.

Yoda was taken aback. He had not even considered that he was the only Master not on the council, let alone even in the running for a Council seat.

Nevertheless, it was a calling that he could not lightly refuse. Stepping forward, Yoda felt the heavy hands of the Jedi Lord on his shoulders, "Master Yoda, the Council calls upon you to be their head, the official leader of the Jedi Order, and the personification of the Light Side of the Force. Can you strive to live up to this obligation, combat the Dark Side, and give aid to all those who need your wisdom."

"Do that, I will…" Yoda replied, feeling the effect of all eyes in the room on him.

"Then as the interim leader of the Jedi, I name you Grandmaster Yoda, and ask you to take your seat among the Council." Berethon stated, even as the last chair was added to the circle. Yoda stepped toward it, faintly realizing that it was the chair once used by Grandmaster Fae Coven.

Feeling the mantle fall heavily upon his shoulders, Yoda turned to the assembled Order, and sat in the cushioned seat, swearing an oath to himself that he would do everything in his power to uphold what the previous occupant of this seat had fought, and died, to achieve.

There was another smattering of polite applause, and Lord Berethon called for an end of the ceremony, and dismissed all non leaders of the Jedi Order.

"Now comes the difficult part of leadership," Master Quist said, the human looking rather uncomfortable herself in a High Council Seat, "actually leading."

Yoda had to quite agree with the Chief Librarian, but glancing across at his former Padawan, now a High Councilor and Jedi Master, he felt that they would manage, just as they had for so long before now.

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Zhar watched the sun setting over the horizon of Dromund Kaas. Much had changed on the former Sith world, and now home to the Prophets of the Dark Side. The jungle had risen up in recent months, and swallowed the ruins of the former city, up to the great palace, much of which had fallen into disrepair.

There were only about fifty prophets of the Dark Side on world, and they were happily secluded from the rest of the Galaxy. The silence that permeated from the death of the Sith Emperor seemed to have deafened the Galaxy, slowly washing clean the slate of all memory of the madman and his seemingly endless Empire.

Zhar remembered however. He lived in the chamber that was once the Emperor's, and while he sensed that some spell was removing the memory little by little, he went through several rituals a day to remind him of the evil that the Prophets sought to defy.

Should the evil of the Sith Lords rise again, the Prophets would be there, in the shadows, waiting to plant a blade into the back of those monsters. Sure, they would be doing the job of the Jedi for them, but more efficiently and with less high-minded sentiment.

"Supreme Prophet?" a voice said, even as his one-time apprentice and now subordinate, High Prophet Euka, entered the room. "they are ready for you."

"Thank you, High Prophet," Zhar said, turning back. The was a cloak waiting for him, infused with glittering powder that shimmer like stars as he walked. A small flare that identified them against the flat black that the Sith favored. The prophets had many pinpricks of light within them, as they opposed the total darkness of the Sith, but they were still Darksiders in their own right.

The main chamber of the temple had been repurposed into a massive council chamber, where all prophets could assemble from their private meditations for group rituals or other business. Currently, all were waiting for his arrival, even as a group of troopers and officers shifted on the main floor, far below the seats for all the Prophets.

Taking the central and largest seat for himself, Zhar looked down at those that had come before them. Former Imperials to be sure, judging from the shabby uniforms, and the armor that bore the former insignia of the Empire, now repurposed into the mark of the Prophets of the Dark Side, as it had been in the beginning.

"What is it that you desire of us?" Zhar asked, fully entering his role as Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side.

"My Lord…" the highest ranking officer said, his voice somewhat warbling as he spoke. "We wanted to request of you information…"

But Zhar held up a hand to stop the man's prattling. "The Emperor is dead," he said with finality. The number of times that Imperials had fled back to their world and requested this of the Prophets was disgusting. It was as though they truly believed that the man had been some kind of god, and not a mortal like the rest of them.

"Nor will we take up his mantle," added Jol, from one of the higher seats on Zhar's left.

"Neither will we work to avenge his death," Euka finished from Zhar's right.

"We are the Prophets of the Dark Side, and we have nothing more to do with the Sith Empire." Zhar said, staring down at the trembling man. "Go and disappear into the Galaxy if you must, or merge back into the soon-to-return Republic, we care not…"

"But my Lord," the man continued, as though he could plead for the organization to dare take over the diabolic mantle that the Sith wore.

"Enough," Zhar said sternly, adding the touch of the Force to his command, "be gone from this place, and never return, nor speak of us to anyone…"

The officer stepped back in fright, and gestured for his troopers to stand down and withdraw. However, the moment that they were out the door, Euka and Jol glanced at Zhar, and the Supreme Prophet nodded. "They must not leave this planet alive…" he said to the grouping of prophets at large.

"They cannot be trusted," Jol added in agreement.

"Otherwise our secrecy will be compromised," Euka finished.

"Yes, Supreme Prophet, we will take care of them," one of the lesser prophets said, and the mass of dark robes scattered, many returning to their meditations and others going to fulfill the command and slaughter the fools that had dared come to them.

Zhar could sense his two High Prophets, and the future that they had foreseen. So many unified rituals in casting their minds forward to guide the Prophets had effectively merged their minds into a massive network, allowing each of the three individuals to act nearly as one.

Zhar had mused that if they did the same, adding more and more prophets to their collective Foresight, they would be able to strain further into the murky depths of the future, and see when and where the Sith would arise again, and how they could stop them before they became a threat.

But until then, they needed to train more people to be able to withstand the psychic strain that so many rituals placed on an individual.

They had plenty of time to do so; however, and Zhar had patience to spare for their ultimate goal.

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Darth Diábolis, Dark Lord of the Sith, watched the shifting of the Galaxy with hatred in his heart.

As foreseen by his master, the Republic was already reforming, and everything that they had created in the Sith Empire had crumbled under its own weight. But it had not all be for naught. The Jedi and what other fools existed out in the Galaxy had forgotten all about the Sith, thinking them defeated and gone forever, slowly losing the memory of the threat that they posed against them.

Diábolis had done what was required of him, once his master perished, taking the suddenly mummified corpse to the expansive deserts of Korriban. Out in the wastes, far from the Valley of the Dark Lords, his master had prepared a final resting place for himself, surrounded by trophies of his glory and artifacts that he had prepared for Diábolis, as though he had foreseen his own downfall.

Sealing the tomb after looting what he would require, Diábolis had turned his attention to the next step of furthering the Sith: Seeking an apprentice. He had sensed that he was indeed going to die quicker than he expected.

Luckily, his master's final words had been even as he suspected. Following the Force and seeking the greatest inklings of darkness in the Galaxy, eventually Diábolis had found the perfect candidate. The young human male, scarcely at the end of his teen years had willingly joined Diábolis, abandoning his former life and name and taking up the title of Darth Gravid.

The young man was eager, but had some ideas that needed to be purged to become a truly powerful Sith. Diábolis quickly grew to appreciate the brutal methods that his master had used in training him, although he could not do the same in these difficult and secretive times for the Sith. Leaving his apprentice to wander a dangerous world was simply too risky for him, because as quickly as Diábolis could teach the young man, the Devaronian himself was steadily dying.

He knew that Gravid wouldn't have too much trouble slaying him when the time came, yet he would do everything in his power to make sure that the Order of the Sith Lords continued into the future, and poured every effort into hammering in the tenants of their philosophy into the young mind.

Meanwhile, Diábolis had taken to the underbelly of the Galaxy, infiltrating easily the black markets and smuggling rings, provoking the acceleration of corruption to return to the fledgling Republic, and preparing a small holding that the Sith could use for their future endeavors.

It was a slow start, but he was certain that it would give the future generations of Sith what they needed to further the cause. The tiniest quiver in the Devaronian's left hand brought him out of his thoughts.

When his old master had warned him that he would be dying of eventual toxins in his body, Diábolis had not expected it to take this long just to start affecting him, let alone actually do any damage to his system, but it seemed to have finally started.

Glancing over at the sleeping form of his apprentice, curled unhappily on a small, threadbare cot on the opposite side of the dormitory within their private shuttle, Diábolis withheld his own worries. Refining the young man's heart into that of a Sith was still the longest and most painstaking part yet to be fulfilled with regards to Gravid, and Diábolis did not know if he would have the time to see it though completely.

For the sake of the entire Order, whose future rested squarely on Diábolis shoulders, he had little choice but to see this through. There wouldn't be time to kill Gravid and find another at this rate.

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Mother Talzin smirked at the gathering of her sisters that had joined her in her exile. After the death of her great enemy, and the fleeing of his apprentice, she had prepared for a lonely existence in the wilds of Dathomir, practicing her magic and becoming the sovereign ruler of the entire planet.

Such fate had not seemed to be however. In due time, others fleeing the fall of Veneficus' mighty Empire came to her, Force users seeking out power for themselves, and they found her instead.

It was an… interesting dilemma to be sure. Those that were female flocked to her authority with great ease, led by one Togruta named Ocraadi Nuhok. The ex-Imperial Dark adept was strong in the Force, and quite insane, but there were ways of fully adapting her to the service of Mother Talzin.

Using ancient rituals, those women who were willing were infused with the ancient spirits of a long dead race, powerful in their sorcery and willing to walk the earth once more, even in a partial vessel. The process was terrible for those hosts, rapidly altering those who survived and changing their physical forms to house two spirits rather than one.

Naturally, old mad Nuhok had survived, although she ceased to be a Togruta altogether. The new being took on the name of Daka, and quickly learned much of the dark magic that Talzin had gleaned from Veneficus' mind.

As for the males, Talzin had little desire to deal with them directly when one of their leaders tried to take control of the entire collective out from under her. Talzin destroyed the Zabrak, before exiling the rest of the males to the far side of Dathomir, where the jungle ended and a large wasteland dominated the landscape.

Now, with about twenty of the female Force users surviving the transformation, Talzin had her own sisterhood, and under the light of a dim, new moon, she addressed her coven. "Welcome, my sisters, to our celebration of our night of unification. We have striven for great power in the Galaxy, and those destructive ones have ravaged it over and over. Yet we remain."

The sisters of the night cheered, and Talzin continued, "Our magic will dominate all of Dathomir, and slowly, we will attract more followers, grow into a powerful sisterhood, and progress out into the Galaxy to claim that which was denied to us."

"Rejoice, Nightsisters! For we have started a clan that will last for millennia!" she shouted over the cheers of her new sisters, her children and followers that would uphold her power for years to come.

Talzin turned away as the celebration began. There was much yet to do, even with all she had accomplished. The Sith still existed, and they were her sworn enemy. Looking up to the nearly moonless sky, Talzin spotted something small and shimmering as it streak through the sky like a meteorite, impacting the ground far from their camp.

The other sisters were too focused on their revelry to care, and did not notice Talzin slip from the camp. The Nightsister leader traveled swiftly, following faint traces of magic that led her straight to the impact sight of the unknown object.

The crater was deceptively large for the small orb at its base, glinting in the starlight from above. The magic wafting from it was extremely familiar. The spirit within her surged with joy as she drew forth the glittering Seer's Stone from the ground. How it had managed to come full circle and return to her was unknown, but Talzin wasn't about to question the fortune of her position.

With the stone at her side, she would be able to see the future with some imperfection, but she had a better idea for the powerful artifact. The stone might be overly large, but the changes that came to her body allowed her to easily fit it into her mouth. Ingesting such a powerful artifact would grant her that same power to a greater effect.

Visions blossomed behind her eyes as the stone settled within her, and Talzin cackled. All possibilities were open to her now, and she would usurp the control of the Galaxy. The Sith, the Jedi, the Republic, nothing would stand in their way.

But she would have to plan carefully, and ensure that she was well protected. Spells and potions would sustain her life, and the knowledge of the Elixir of Life, stolen also from Veneficus, would ensure that she and those she chose would live until the time was right for them to venture out from their world and conquer the Galaxy.

In the silence of the jungle, her laughter rang out, piercing to the very stars themselves.

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Jedi Temple, Coruscant, 19 BBY

After so many years, it had finally happened. Over a thousand years of preparation, subtlety, and planning. And now, the Jedi were nearly extinct.

Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the Sith and future Emperor of the Galaxy couldn't control his enthusiasm as he walked the halls of the Jedi Temple. Bodies littered the floor, slaughtered by his newest and most powerful apprentice, Darth Vader. The young man he had already met here, in the room of a thousand fountains, and sent off on his next mission, to butcher the Separatist leaders on the volcanic world of Mustafar.

He had other work that he needed to attend to as well, but Darth Sidious wanted to enjoy every moment that he lingered in the home of his enemy, before calling together the Senate and using his extreme executive power to change the Republic at the very core.

The deaths rang through the Force with such a delightful touch of the Dark Side, and Sidious wandered gleefully through the corridors, eventually finding himself in the great archive of the Jedi Temple.

He did not expect to find much, but there was always the chance that the fools in the Jedi Order missed some Dark Side trinket, or perhaps the Holocron of some lesser Sith. However, as he started toward the Holocron Vault, a small side passage caught the Sith Lord's eye. What was odd about it was the layers of dust that coated the floor, something that ought to have been unacceptable in the Jedi Temple.

Without hesitation, Sidious took the unknown passage, hands out and ready in case some Jedi had hidden there and was still alive. He had already taken the pleasure of ending the lives of several Padawans and Younglings that Lord Vader had left dying in his wake.

However, there was no one there, and the corridor ended in a clearly disused lift. Checking quickly, Sidious discovered that the lift still had power, but had fallen into complete disuse for some unknown reason.

Widening his eyes, the Sith Lord realized what this lift must have connected to, and eagerly he punched the button to summon the lift and open the doors. As he expected the lift came up from a long way below, and he stepped inside, eager to see for himself the nexus of energy below the temple.

He had been the first to find the collection of Dark Side power below the Jedi's very home, and the Sith Lord had tapped into it eagerly, using it to cloud the vision of the Jedi into the future and shroud his own presence in the Force, even when confronted with the Grandmaster of the Order, Yoda, face to face.

The lift rumbled and shook somewhat as it descended, but Sidious paid it no mind, he was genuinely excited for what he might find here. Long had he wondered what caused such a powerful nexus of the Dark Side, and why the Jedi had chosen to build their precious temple on top of such a location.

When the lift ended its journey, and the doors opened again, Sidious was met with a very short passage, clearly patched and intentionally sealed shut by the Jedi. That would do at all. Lightsabers likely wouldn't be able to open this, as the Jedi wouldn't want any of their own to break though if they broke out of the mould of their dogmatic thinking.

But Sidious was the most powerful living Force user in the Galaxy, and thusly leveled a powerful blast of telekinesis at the sealed wall. The room trembled, the wall bending at an unnatural angle and finally tearing open, revealing the passage beyond.

The dust and rust along the floor beyond told of the great age that this passage possessed, and the lightning was dim, albeit still functional. Sidious hurried along, not trusting the floor to not malfunction and give out under his weight.

Eventually, he stepped off the metal catwalk onto a stone plateau in the center of a large cavern, and the power of the Dark Side encircled him like a comforting blanket. Treasures and artifacts glimmered in the dim light, all shimmering with the Dark Side from ages past.

Sidious couldn't express his greed at seeing all the Dark Side artifacts, and quickly scanned them for anything of great value. His eyes landed on a Holocron, pyramid shaped and gleaming with crimson and gold amid the black of its sides.

It was like others he had held and seen, but much more ornate, speaking of wealth and power of the creator, and Sidious took this alone into his hands, wafting his powerful aura over the device and bringing it to life, like a miniature heart in his hands.

The Gatekeeper appeared, shimmering silvery in the gloom and appearing quite unlike any of the Holocron gatekeepers he had interacted with before. "I am Darth Veneficus, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Eternal Emperor of the Neo-Sith Empire, who is this that has awakened me?"

Sidious smirked with glee, "I am Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the Sith and soon-to-be Emperor of the Galaxy."

"So, we have come full circle since my death then?" the gatekeeper said, surprisingly self aware for one of the recorded creations, in Sidious' opinion. "I will teach you all you can learn from me, for I see that the time has come once more for the Sith to rise over the Jedi. But beware; those closest to you will become your greatest foes, Emperor..."

Sidious laughed. He figured out the truth quickly. "This is no mere Holocron," he said deftly, "You are a memory, a shade of the actual Sith Lord, bound and contained here, at the heart of your enemy's home, waiting for someone, anyone, to find and release you."

"I see that we will be working quite well with each other," Veneficus said, smirking as Darth Sidious started the Ritual of Force-walking, in order to bind the pair of them together.

The End.

And thus the second large step that I had taken into the world of authorship is complete at long last. Many experimental ideas were pitched, some good, others that need obvious work, but in the end, I enjoyed this story. In due time, when I've healed from the damage that Disney has done to the franchise I may write from the fandom again, but for the time being I need to walk away from star wars altogether. As a request for those who've stuck with me on this tale for the duration, i'd like an honest opinion regarding the characters, primarily those who were of my own creation. did they seem vibrant, and real characters standing alongside those who were from either fanbase. despite being mainly side characters did they measure up? I know of a few that were clear favorites by many, but i'd like to know more. what could have been done to flesh them out further while staying positioned in the roles that they were given? of course I am welcoming to any other manner of constructive comments or criticism that you might have, and fondly wish you all well. ~F