Disclaimer: Let's see…this is a story a friend and I are working on. I or we don't own anything of Star Wars. However all the character/planets in this story will be original and it will be set in an alternate universe. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading and please review!

Prologue: Ziaon

He walked slowly through the temple, his cloak dragging softly over the bodies of the dead. Corpses littered the stone floor and the air smelt of burnt flesh. He paused before the bodies of a little girl and a woman, perhaps mother and daughter, for the woman's lifeless hands still gripped the child.

He checked their pulses, just in case. He found nothing and moved on. Even with all his training, it was hard to suppress the emotions that came when the eyes of an innocent child stared back at him.

But it was the way of the code, to feel nothing; doubts he may have had, but it was the only way. Doubts had risen since their mission on Craine; Zanah's scream echoed through his mind at the thought. "There is no passion," he thought.

He stopped over the body of a Guardian, a protector of some sort for this temple. None of them had ever had a chance. He continued on until he reached two massive doors and stopped. He exhaled slowly. He could feel the other man through the doors, feel his mind and presence as if they were his own.

The Masters had volunteered him because of this…this bond he shared with the man beyond the door. The Masters had decided to use this to their advantage, believing that the bond would help in the surrender of the other man.

He glanced back through the hall of the dead, and at the end of the hall he could make out the two figures of his Masters. Their forms seemed to beckon him onward; he went forth. With a wave of his hand the two doors slid open, revealing a massive chamber, lined with statues of legends he did not know. Heroes of a different age.

At the end of the chamber stood a man shrouded in black. Darkness seemed to reverberate around him.

He took a step in the chamber and with each step the chamber began to fill with whispers; these whispers were in a language unfamiliar to him, but he didn't need to know the language to know that these whispers were of agony, of pain and suffering.

As he neared the other man, the darkness around him faded away and the whispers came to an eerie stop halt, causing him to stop in his tracks.

The man turned around to face him. His face had an edge of steel to it, something that had not been there the last time they had seen each other.

"Ah, Darris! I wasn't expecting you so soon; I have much to show you."

"You know I can't, Zarren."

Anger flashed across Zarren's face and then quickly disappeared. "Oh? So you are still their tool, to use whenever they wish it? Does this not anger you? Are you not enraged at what they did?"

Darris looked away from Zarren's eyes, his doubts resurfacing. He searched for. "I want retribution just as much as you do, Zarren. But it is not the way."

The anger quickly returned to Zarren's face. "Not the way?" he said, raising his voice so that it echoed throughout the chamber. "She was your sister, Darris! How can you feel nothing?"

Darris' eyes fell to the floor in shame. He had had no choice. They had made him leave; they had made him leave her. "I…I don't know," he said, returning his gaze to Zarren.

A gleam of light entered Zarren's eyes. "It doesn't matter now. I found what the others told us about, in the stories…I found pow…" Zarren cut off abruptly, eyes darting down the chamber.

Darris followed his gaze slowly. The Masters strolled in the chamber as if they owned the place.

'You brought them here?' Zarren's thought echoed through his mind.

'No. You did that with your killings.' He conveyed the thought through the bond they shared.

"You have done well, my padawan." The taller of the two Masters, Master Kaahn was a legend among the order.

"I am sure the council will raise you soon." Master Raan was a legend in her own right and had been Darris' sister's Master. The two Masters took up a position on either side of Darris, facing Zarren.

"You said I was to be given more time, Masters," Darris said, glancing at Zarren.

"We sensed that he was too far gone." Master Raan's voice cut through the air like a knife through butter.

"No one is ever too far gone for redemption," Darris countered.

Master Raan quirked an eyebrow. "Are you questioning us, padawan?"

Darris gritted his teeth and bowed his head. "No, Master."

"Very well, then," Master Kaahn continued. "Zarren Sahga, on behalf of the High Council of the Jedi Order, you are under arrest for the murder of Master Corbin and the genocide of Ziaon. Surrender your blade and prepare for judgment."

Silence fell throughout the chamber.

Then, suddenly, there was laughter. Darris knew that laugh; he had heard it from Zarren several times when they were young.

The laughter stopped. "You two dare accuse me of murder, after what happened on Craine?" Zarren shook his head. "No, Masters, it is you who will be judged."

In a flash Zarren's blade was in his hand, ignited in a brilliant purple. What was once a room of silence now sounded with the clashing and humming of lightsabers. Darris ignited his blade, but hesitated to join the battle.

The Masters traded strikes, working as a team. Zarren deflected the attacks with ease but was forced to retreat.

'Help me, Darris!' The thought slammed across Darris' mind. He lowered his head in shame.

'I can't.' He relayed the thought back to Zarren. The lightsabers cracked and hissed as they met. Darris took a step forward and heard a crunch at his feet. Glancing down, he noticed the remains of some type of artifact.

Suddenly a surge of Force rippled through the air, sending Zarren sliding on his back to the feet of Darris. Another surge of Force slammed Zarren to the stone floor keeping him pinned, his purple blade winking out of existence.

Zarren thrashed against the invisible hands holding him in place, as the Masters aimed their blades to his neck. At once, both the Masters noticed the shattered remains of the artifact. "He must be destroyed" Raan said.

Master Kaahn nodded his head.

"What?" Darris heard his own voice echo and through the bond Zarren screamed for help. "No, he must go before the Council!" he said looking at his Masters desperately. They both ignored him; Master Raan gave a slight nod to the other for the kill.

Darris' mind raced frantically, as his Master raised his blade for the kill. 'Help!' screamed across his mind. Darris moved, faster than he had ever before, his blade slicing through the mid-section of his former Master Kaahn. Before the body hit the floor, he called on the Force and threw his blade into the stomach of Master Raan. The Master let out a shriek of pain and fell to her knees. It was over as fast as it had begun.

He exhaled slowly, his mind still racing, and walked over to Master Raan to retrieve his blade. She was still alive.

Zarren stood, now free of the invisible hands that had held him, shock apparent all over his face. He knelt down and picked up Master Raan's blade.

"Darris," she said in between spouts of blood. "Killing me won't bring your sister back."

"I know." His voice was as cold as ice. "But it's a start." He ignited his blade and plunged it through her chest. "There is no passion."