"All across the galaxy, all at once, Jedi die. They are at the mercy of the Sith. None is given. Some, filled with hatred, fall to the dark. Others are broken, never to feel again. All across the galaxy, all at once, Jedi die…"

Anakin Skywalker was numb. He couldn't think. He couldn't feel. He couldn't breathe. His heart was empty, cold, dead of the emotion he could have once called love. But there was no love now. There was nothing. Only cold harsh emptiness. The stark white pain had brought him to his knees, but the galaxy is a cruel merciless place, and nothing could bring her back. Her sweet smiling face, her soft touch, her eyes that sparkled when she laughed, all gone. It was to much for any man to bear. He was crushed. And so he snapped. He was untouchable, nothing, no one could stand in his way. The wound pierced in his heart by her death was too deep. He could never be what he used to be. She was gone. And so was he. The man he used to be, only a faint memory, the emotions he used to feel so often, passion, love, even hurt, but a distant shadow of the past. This cut had torn at his very soul. The unbearable pain could never heal. So he let go. Let go of everything. Let go until there was nothing left. Nothing. Nothing at all.

"Their spirits are broken. They will never see the light again. Bleak emptiness is their only companion. They have no hope, they have nothing. Nothing but a bottomless pain to fill their hearts."

The Jedi Padawan Nara Sunrider hadn't thought such pain was possible. Such unendurable heartbreak. Yet here she was, huddled in the corner of a small cell, with nothing but the ragged remains of her robes to protect her from the biting cold. Not that she noticed it. All she felt now was hurt, so much pain. All the love she once felt had been crushed. For the one she loved, her own master, Xahl Karrik, had been slaughtered. Killed right before her horrified eyes. She remembered it in vivid detail. The soft swish of Vader's cape, his heavy, harsh, metallic breathing. The quiet wsssh of his blood-red lightsaber cutting into the heart of the only thing in the galaxy that mattered to her. His hand, desperately reaching out for her, her name on his lips, the unmistakable pain in his eyes. Yes, she remembered. The feeling of helplessness, her bound hands stopping her from gripping his as he breathed his excruciating last, the gag on her mouth stopping her from screaming his name. She remembered his lifeless body slumping to the floor, those piercing blue eyes never to see the light again. The hard metal faces of the droids that took his body from the cell, with no gentleness, harshly dragging him across the floor. The masked Sith had tortured her, but she could feel nothing. The cut of a knife dragging across her ribs was nothing compared to the pain she felt, seeing him cruely killed. She felt numb.
"Why?" she had gasped at the monster, who's hand was stained with the blood of countless innocents. Why was he doing this? She had no information. What had he to gain from breaking her soul? But the lifeless mask had just stared at the girl with tears dripping down her cheeks, without no pity, no compassion. The torture had lasted hours, but she barely felt any of it. And now she was here, a shivering ball of hopeless misery, able to feel nothing but shocks of pain that would have caused her to collapse had she not already been huddled on the stone cold floor. Far beyond tears, far beyond anything at all save for huddling among her blood- soaked robes and wanting this living pain to end.

"Some have nothing left. No faint hope to cling to, no one with which to share their pain. They are all but wiped from the face of the galaxy. All but a small few, who are in such misery that they almost wish they had never been born."

They had been tracking her for weeks. Months. Endless hours. And Jedi Knight Aketna Nightflame was exhausted. Oh so exhausted... she felt as if every bone in her body would drop to the ground, leaving her unable to move, unable to go on. But she must go on, she knew. For the sake of her men, those few loyal clone troopers who refused to kill her, knowing that if they did not deliver a killing blow, one would be inflicted on them. And it had been. The empire would show no mercy to traitors. Each and every one of those men had been captured, and each and every one of them had died a painful death rather than reveal her whereabouts. Their deaths still haunted her through the cold, dark nights, in an alley or in a kind citizen's cellar if she was lucky. But she seldom was lucky enough to be able to sleep for a few precious hours each night, for fear that they would find her. And if they did find her... oh may the Force help her if they did. She knew too much about the location of the few other surviving Jedi. She shuddered to think of what they would do to get this information. She knew the lives of many depended on her, but no matter how strong her resolve, she had studied Sith torture techniques, she may very well break. Not quickly, but slowly they would inflict excruciating pain, until she would beg to be put out of her misery. What she did not realize, was that this was what they were already doing. Killing all surviving Jedi, all the people she had ever cared about, he amazingly loyal troopers who had died to keep her safe. Slowly crushing any hope she once had, slowly breaking her heart until a million tiny pieces. All those terrible lonely nights, spent in tears for her troops, her former master, all the Jedi at the temple, once sparking with life in the force, now only a dull, dim shadow. They will slowly break her heart until she becomes what so many other Jedi knights have become; a hollow shell with nothing but pain and despair inside.

"As is the case with some, an indescribable rage fills their very souls, a wild animal desire to kill that which has caused them so much pain. But once a Jedi turns… there is no going back."

Rage. It filled him. It fed him, fueling his body, directing his lightsaber. He couldn't think anymore, he didn't want to think, for fear that once his anger subsided, there would be nothing left. He had turned into a deadly killing machine, calling upon his fear, his anger, to kill these men. These men, who had served with him loyally for years, now so suddenly turning against him, killing the only thing in the galaxy that meant something to him. His padawan. The only person he could confide in, the only person who had always been there for him throughout that horrible war, that had ended in such a horrible way that no-one could have imagined possible. Images flashed through his head, as his blade slashed through the chest of a trooper who had saved his life on Ariidus. But he didn't think of that. He thought of her. His only friend in a merciless galaxy. Her smile, it had lit up the entire military camp. The little whisp of blonde hair, always untucked from her neat ponytail. Her laugh, it had brightened his spirits when he was broken, angry, untouchable by anything else. She had known his heart like the back of his hand. And he had known hers. And now, she was gone. Brutally killed by the men he had once called brothers-in-arms. They had shown her no mercy. So he would show them none. He slaughtered all of them without an ounce of compassion, and did not stop killing until there was nothing left but smoking corpses throughout the whole military encampment. Then he collapsed in pain, overwhelmed by her loss, overwhelmed by the unspeakable rage inside him, the rage that had caused him to cut through the hearts of so many because of his bitter anger. Then he remembered. Remembered what he could not bear to think of, the very death of the one he loved most. The expression of absolute shock on her sweet face as a trooper she had trusted for years shot her in the chest, looking straight into her eyes without emotion. Cold, dead cruelty. Her last cry of "Master!" and a short, hard breath. Her very last. That was when he had snapped. He was still shattered. On his knees, he whispered her name.
"Kerah...why?" he blindly picked up a handful of dirt and let it slip through his fingers.
"...why?"
Then he screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He screamed, consumed by his uncontrollable rage for those who had taken everything from him. He would kill all of them, he would kill everyone. He hated them with every fiber of his being. He hated the galaxy for being so cruel, so merciless. He hated everything. He screamed, screamed for hours, blinded by his pain. But no one was there to hear his cries. He was alone. Alone forever.

"But some refuse to submit to the empire. They will not give in to darkness. They will not give up hope. They will fight. Fight to their last breath. To their very last breath…"

He was wounded and exhausted from hours of fighting, and his body was breaking down, but he did not give up. He would never give up. As his blazing lightsaber slashed through his enemies, he thought back. It was but a few hours ago that his small rebellion had been surrounded by Imperials, demanding surrender or death. What was left of them had banded together in the only remaining part of their base; the rest had been blasted to oblivion during the imperial attack. The men and women were losing hope. But their brave fearless leader never failed to lift their spirits, even when they knew they were on the brink of death.
"We must not surrender to them…we will not surrender to them!" He had cried, the emotion in his voice showing his passion, his hope. The others had nodded in agreement, knowing full well that they had just chosen death. So they had marched out, in a glorious last stand against evil, and he had watched his only friends, his comrads, coldly shot down. He was the only one left. The first in, and last standing. Yet he would not stop fighting. He would not stop. So he fought. For hours, it had seemed in his fatigue. Never stopping, never taking a breath, lightsaber blazing, he fought. Fought for all he had ever believed in, anyone he had ever loved, cared for. The extinct Jedi order. His Padawan, killed in Order 66. His brave band of rebels, who had gladly followed him to the death. He fought for the faintest spark of light, of goodness in the black galaxy. The hope that someday, that spark would grow until a roaring fire, drowning out the Sith, all evil. But in the end, he was only a lone Jedi against thousands of troops. And they had shot him down, just as they had his brothers and sisters in arms. But the brave Jedi Knight, as he breathed his last, never gave up hope, never stopped fighting.