Star Wars

This story is a reinvasion of a story I previously wrote on this site under a different screen name. The story was called Star Wars: A New Order. I wrote it a few years ago, but I have chose to rewrite it since the original was rushed and very poorly written, and I want to improve on the story.

750 years before A New Hope…

A LONG TIME AGO, IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY….

The Republic is nearly crippled. Two Sith Lords are slowly taking over the galaxy, while the Jedi are slaughtered trying to stop them. It seems all hope is lost, and that the Sith will once again take control…

If anybody traveling by had seen the sheer size of the Annihalater, they would have surely died of fear. The large ship (which would later be used as a design for the Star Destroyer) was miles long, with laser turrets surrounding both sides of the ship. The exterior looked of death and destruction, and the interior was just as horrible, with cold walls that smelled of the screams of captured Jedi that had been tortured to death within. This was a bad place…

Darth Sanai rested on his knees, breathing in the cold, dark air. He was in his meditation chamber that his master had constructed for him years before, when they first left the Order. The room was very simple, simply a square room with steps that led down to a circular area which he used for meditating. This is where he spent most of his days, simply sitting and letting the Force wrap around him, breathing it in and absorbing it, propelling the dark side through him.

Sanai had once been an attractive man, and if he had not been a Jedi would have surely been a great object of lust. But Jedi were not allowed to love; one of the reasons he left the Order. He had once had light blonde hair, with soft, tan skin that felt like a baby's bottom. He had had handsome blue eyes, and a smile that drove women crazy with lust, with muscles and a body to boot.

That was a long time ago, though, and barely any of his former looks had made it through his turn the dark side of the Force.

After years of meditating in a dark room, his skin had become white and pasty, the color seemingly drained. His eyes had become a bloodshot yellow, a symptom of nearly ten years of training in the dark arts of the Sith. His smile was the same, but he never showed it. He rarely ever smiled, and the people that did see his bright white teeth were usually killed right after. And he had killed many.

Sanai was horribly powerful, but even he was nothing compared to his master, Darth Masa. Although Sanai was a master of lightsaber combat, and had never been defeated, his master was far beyond lightsabers. Masa had powers Sanai could only dream of, some of which he had been taught, but only a little; Masa had his secrets, which Sanai knew he would never learn. While Sanai was just now learning to produce a single ark of lightning from his fingertips, Masa could create multiple arks of lightning powerful enough to burn the skin off a man. Masa was the true vison of power.

Sanai suddenly heard the speaker.

"Sanai, Lord Masa wants you to meet him in his chambers," the Sith soldier said over the intercom. Sanai rose, and turned on the lights. He began walking towards his master's throne room, which was on the other end of the Annihalater, and thinking about everything in his life that had led up to this point.