Failed, I have. Still, the harsh but true words echo through the wrinkled, almost bald, green head belonging to the once great Jedi. Yoda shakes his head sadly. The statement truly sums everything up, as he sits on a log on Dagobah.

Failed, I have. The statement is actually rather ironic. For Yoda's failure was arrogance. He never admitted the weaknesses of the Jedi Order, as well as his own. Only now, in the end, does he finally understand. Only now, when it is too late, does he admit his failure of never admitting failure.

Failed, I have. But forget the irony, this is a somber moment. Yoda looks down onto the campfire he has built as it burns the wood. Some of the wood has the symbol of the Republic etched into it, the rest has the symbol of the Jedi Order. A makeshift funeral, with only two to blame for it. Palpatine for his evil, and Yoda for his arrogance.

Failed, I have. The smoke floats up towards the night sky, pointing to the stars that once had free planets orbiting them. Yoda's next thought is much more faint, and it isn't his own, either.

Failed, you have. It is like a whisper, so subtle that Yoda barely notices it. The voice then calls out again, this time giving up subtlety.

Failed, you have. It is strange. For so long, the darkness, embodied in Darth Sidious, had subtly encouraged his arrogance, letting it grow. Now, it does the opposite. So who could the voice be? It comes from the cave, Yoda finally realizes. It is definitely connected to the darkness of the cave. But why? Now, gloating in its victory, the darkness seems to be almost helping him overcome this weakness.

"Come. Let us talk," it beckons, surprisingly not attempting to sway over Yoda's mind with the power of the Force. The voice is deep, and sounds like several people speaking the same words at once. Without warning, the fire dies out, and Yoda is left in the cool darkness of the Dagobah night. The cave is a place strong with the Dark Side, this much Yoda knows.

"I assure you of this Yoda: We have no reason to bother killing you. The game has ended," the darkness continues. Still not entirely sure whether the darkness is actually speaking, or is just an illusion in his mind, Yoda stands up and takes a single step towards the cave.

"Who are you?" Yoda finally asks, looking into the shadowed depths of the cave with fierce determination. A sound like the wind blasts out, and the swamp, in the night, becomes even darker. Pitch black now, only one thing can be seen. A figure from the past on the Force Planet rises up from the cave.

Seemingly composed of entirely smoke aside from its head, the figure is what Yoda typically refers to in his memories as "Dark Yoda." His head is entirely grey, except for red and yellow eyes, and pointy, intimidating teeth. But Dark Yoda is different now. He is easily ten times larger than his previous size, and his legs are replaced by a strange spiral of smoke that funnels into the cave.

"Know who I am, you do," the voice responds, sounding like a raspy and much deeper version of the normal version. Then it is seemingly sucked into the cave, and the swamp becomes relatively normal again. But just before the apparition disappears completely, it communicates a single telepathic thought into Yoda's mind. Confront me.

Yoda walks into the cave slowly, with caution, his senses ever alert. It is a challenge, plain and simple, but one that he must accept. A chance to prove himself a dedicated servant of the light, even as his exile leads him on a tedious life of retirement that will inevitably end in death.

Bother, why even? He ponders the question, rather unsure. His internal debate eventually ends in the response of why not, as he really isn't sure how he will spend his days.

He focuses back on his current situation, the cave that he slowly walks through. Then a voice calls out.

"Yoda. You survived. Again," it states, in the very familiar tone of Darth Sidious. And Yoda turns the corner, to be confronted by the Sith Lord that awaits him.

He attempts to draw his lightsaber, just as he remembers that it is gone. Sidious makes no move, even as Yoda resorts to his secondary weapon, that of the Force. Shoving his hand towards the Dark Lord, Sidious mirrors the attack. But the Sith makes no move to counterattack and push back. He just defends.

"Yoda, surely we are above such barbaric tactics. The game has ended, violence is no longer needed," Sidious replies, still defending against Yoda's push but not pressing the advantage. Without moving a muscle, Sidious then summons two chairs with the Force, bringing them out of the shadows and close next to each other.

Yoda narrows his eyes, and asks a question with a single word. "Why?" Still, he does not stop in his Force push, and neither does Sidious lower his defense.

Sidious chuckles a bit, then responds, "For the same reason you came in this cave. Surely, testing our skill in the Force is no longer necessary." Yoda finally lets up, and they both move to the chairs.

Sidious continues. "I know full well that could have returned to battle me back in the Senate chamber. But no, you decided to crawl away, and what was it that you said? Oh yes. 'failed, I have.'" Yoda frowns, knowing it's true.

"You have lost, old Jedi. Your arrogance has brought both you, your Republic, and your precious Jedi Order to their knees. You have failed them," Sidious says, and Yoda looks down shamefully. There is no response. Failed, I have.

"Oh, there it is again," Sidious taunts. "Such beautiful words. So short. So accurate. So pathetic." Yoda snarls.

"Stay calm, Jedi. Surely you know anger is not the Jedi way," Sidious says, talking as if Yoda is a child. How the Force tests me, is this? Let go of my anger, must I?

Yoda looks carefully at the Sith, trying to deduce his motivations, but there is no such luck. The Sith knows how to hide information. "Here to gloat, are you?" Yoda asks, genuinely interested.

Smiling at the question and at Yoda's uncertainty, Sidious says, "I do seem to be doing that, aren't I? But no. That is not why I'm here. You know just as well as I that I won, and you lost. Just like your demonstration of the Force, it is unneeded."

Yoda has no reply, and the awkward silence ensues. Time to reveal his purpose, it is for Sidious. "If you accepted the Dark Side, you could have defeated me," Sidious finally states.

"Wrong, you are," Yoda replies, going for the simple counter.

Sidious laughs. "Yoda, those who thirst for power will achieve it. It is as simple as that. And it isn't too late either. Study in this cave, dig into your hate, feed on the power of the Dark Side. You can destroy me."

"What worth is it? Even if destroy you I do, save the galaxy, it would not. Fall, I would," Yoda counters, saying everything he has told his apprentices for the past 800 years.

"What is there to lose?" Sidious asks, a simple question that truly makes Yoda think. He has failed. Sidious has won. His life as a Jedi is truly without meaning. (Of course, a life with the Dark Side has even less) And then it strikes him. One terrifying thought. Why live, should I? His face flash with realization and disappointment. To think he can do no more good.

There is no purpose, no meaning. Death is the only thing left. A snake is approaching him, one that he has been pushing away almost subconsciously. Easy enough to protect against. But he lets down his defenses. The snake crawls up slowly. Tension hangs in the air. Sidious asks him to do otherwise, but Yoda doesn't listen. This is his final act of defiance against the Sith Lord.

The snake climbs up the chair... and bites its poisonous fangs into Yoda's neck. There is no pain, he doesn't even feel it. Death, is this? Sidious suddenly laughs triumphantly, and Yoda remembers. This is an illusion. The snake cannot harm him.

He begins to walk out of the cave, leaving Sidious behind. He looks for an actual snake. Not to hard to find on Dagobah, but it is a poisonous frog that sees him first. It, like the snake in the cave, is cautious. And then it hits Yoda. Sidious is never honest. It is a trick.

Reverse psychology? The thought flashes through him, and suddenly every word said by Sidious has newfound meaning. To demoralize me, he wanted. His sin that is being tested is not arrogance, not anger.

It is discouragement. To truly become one with the Light Side, he must continue to believe. He must wait for the Skywalkers to be ready to become Jedi. He must continue to live. For one day, his life will have purpose. One way, he will have the chance to help save the galaxy. But he must not be discouraged.

The frog darts towards him, mere inches away, now. He calls out to the Force, and in one terrifying moment, he bats it away at the last second.

On Coruscant, Darth Sidious sits looking at the planet in triumph. Imperial Center. Soon, I will rename it to Imperial Center. But something just isn't quite right. It hits him. A Dark Side nexus is gone. It was one of many, a comforting presence that reminded him that the Dark Side is everywhere.

His eyes widen in frustration. Yoda is gone, too. Oh, how clever. The Jedi, once so powerful that he could easily be found using the Force, his went to a Dark Side nexus to "cancel out" his presence of Light. Oh, where was that nexus? Just like Yoda, he could have easily found it, but he never bothered. It was a swamp world.

But there are so many swamp worlds. The nexus is gone, Yoda is gone. But surely, that doesn't matter. Sidious remembers feeling Yoda's presence after their battle. Something changed. The arrogance he once held in Light was replaced but utter discouragement after his failure. Yoda has been discouraged, he will never leave the world or fight back again. He will never train any more Jedi, he never stir up any Rebellion. He is too disappointed in his failure.

Yoda might as well be dead. He no longer will be a hinderance. He lost.

And thinking about the old Jedi, he utters a poem. It was once said to Darth Maul, but what it applies surprisingly well to Yoda's situation.

"Far above, far above, we don't know when we'll fall. Far above, far above, what once was great is rendered small."