A JEDI'S FALL

Pegali Skyrunner, Knight of the Republic, pulled her shoulder-length reddish-brown hair back into a tail, fixing it with a plain rubber band before answering her ship's incoming holocomm. The young Miraluka concentrated slightly, tracing the call through the Force, getting an image of the caller, and smiled as her half-brother's holo-image resolved itself.

"Mikk!" she greeted him with a warm smile which soon turned into a concerned look as she sensed his emotions. "What's wrong?"

"Hi, sis." Mikk'el Skyrunner's image indicated that he was a large man, contrasting with Peg's petite frame and slender figure. "I just finished checking in with the Council about our mission. They've given the go-ahead to move onto Nar Shaddaa."

"You're avoiding the issue."

"Always so serious," he sighed. There was an uncomfortable silence as he collected himself. "Grand Master Shan found out about me and Ranna." Peg considered this; Ranna Tao'Ven was the young new Matriarch of the Twi'lek Pilgrims who had settled on Tython in defiance of the Republic, inheriting her position from her late mother. Ranna and Mikk had become close not long afterwards. Both siblings knew all too well Grand Master Satele Shan's views on Jedi and romantic relationships, views neither sibling shared.

"That can't have ended well."

"Always one for understatement. Master Shan gave me a choice."

"Ranna or the Jedi," Peg finished. Mikk nodded. "When do you have to decide?"

"I already have. Master Shan summoned us to the Council chamber, and made me decide right there, then dismissed Ranna immediately after."

"Oh. ... OH!"

"Yes, you see my problem." Mikk sighed again. "The terms were no further contact with Ranna. Ever. I can't even say goodbye to her."

Peg stared at her brother's image, following the connection through the Force to try and comfort him that way. What she felt, though, was a shield of grief and sadness blocking her attempts to connect.

"Mikk, promise me you'll find a way to tell her. You two, you're made for each other. You were happy, happier than you've been since dad's third wife left for the Outer Rim and took Allie and Jaek with her. Why'd you choose the Jedi over Ranna?"

"Peg, the work we do as Jedi is more important than our own happiness. I can't believe you of all Jedi would be petty about that." Mikk's tone on the surface appeared to be filled with disappointment at his sister, but through the Force Pegali could sense the pain he was hiding and forcing down.

"Mikk, I'm sorry." She sent a wave of comfort to him. "Don't lose hope that you'll be able to at least explain it to her one day."

Mikk grimaced, and abruptly closed the connection. A minute later, the holocomm beeped again, but Pegali ignored it as she could sense it came from Grand Master Shan. She was already headed for the ship's bridge to lay in a course to the smuggler's moon.

Several galactic standard days later found Mikk and Pegali deep in the Refugee Sector of Nar Shaddaa, several levels below street level. This was a dark level, with lights rarely in working order. Fortunately, Peg thought to herself, she was already blind, relying on the Force rather than her non-existent eyes. This occasionally meant she'd stumble over a piece of trash, but that wasn't uncommon even for those with eyes in this light, as Mikk occasionally proved himself.

The Refugee Sector, she reflected, was populated by the descendants of those who had fled to the moon during the Mandalorian and Jedi Civil Wars nearly three centuries before, having had nowhere else to go. The perfect place for the Empire to hide one of their clandestine operations, one she and Mikk had been tasked to find.

Ever since they'd met up at the spaceport the day before, Peg thought that Mikk was morose. He moved sluggishly, as if he didn't care what happened. She had actually insisted he stay at their lodging on the Promenade, but he would have none of it, insisting they face the danger together.

She sensed the attack half a second before it happened. In an instant, her lightsabers flashed to life in her hands, twin beams of blue and green moving to intercept the durasteel double-vibrosword in her attacker's hand. She expected the lightsaber blades to slice through the sword, but the sword's blade held her offhand saber steady. For not the first time, Peg was thankful her first teacher in the Jedi ways was a Trandoshan; her slender frame was stronger than it looked.

Sithspawn! she thought, as the man holding the vibro-staff came into view. While she couldn't see the scars of his face, she could see the dark aura surrounding him.

"Well now, little Jedi," her opponent chastised her, "such thoughts. I thought the Jedi taught you better. I am no sithspawned monster, though I thank you for the complement. Lord Er'qel, at your service."

The fight was short and brutal. Despite Pegali's skill, the Sith Lord's skill and power was greater. His Sith war blade buried itself in Mikk's heart, killing him well before the larger Jedi could even ignite his own lightsaber, then sliced upwards past her defenses, slicing her from lip to just above her right eye socket, tearing her eye-mask to shreds in the process. Peg tasted her own blood, as a surge of anger flashed through her.

It was as if the floodgates had been opened. All the pent-up anger and hate, her frustrations and resentment, her grief at Mikk's death – all of it came out just then. Rather than force it down or letting it go like she was trained to, however, Pegali latched onto it. She knew it was forbidden, that if she let it she'd be starting down a dark path, but at that moment she didn't care. She would avenge her fallen brother!

Peg made a rage-fueled leap, spinning in mid-air, twin lightsabers flashing with unbidden speed. Her main saber knocked the Sith sword away, while the left slashed through the Sith Lord's waist. Both sabers then proceeded to slice at the Sith's arms, then formed an X pattern across his chest, before finally beheading him.

Exhausted, Pegali studied her handiwork before collapsing, a small, cold smile playing on her lips.

Pegali staggered into the Slippery Slopes cantina on the Nar Shaddaa Promenade, taking a seat at the bar. A kolto patch covered her eye socket and her cheek, but hints of the cut were still visible.

"Corellian brandy," she told the bartender droid, dropping a few Hutt credits on the counter. Taking the drink, she downed it in one shot. "Reload."

"What a ragged little girl. Did someone have a bad day?" a voice beside her commented, the voice slightly imperious, slightly scorning.

"You don't know the half of it," Peg replied coldly. She turned her head as if to look at the newcomer, and wasn't surprised at all by the dark aura surrounding her.

"What's your name, girl?" the newcomer asked.

"Peg. You?"

There was a brief silence before the aura answered. "I am Sith. That will do, for now." Peg concentrated, forming an image of her drinking companion in her mind. A Twi'lek, pale yellow skin, felin spot markings on the lekku, and a marking around her right eye. No, not just any marking...

"Nice brand. An Imperial slave brand?"

"You noticed. Good to see your anger doesn't keep you from noticing the details. It certainly doesn't stop me, Jedi." The Twi'lek spoke with a razor sharp edge to her voice.

"I'm not angry," Peg started to say, but all that came out was, "I'm not..." She stopped, thinking. "Is it that obvious?"

"More than that," the Twi'lek told her. "It's pouring off you. Rare to see a Jedi nursing their anger. Well worth the trouble."

"How many Jedi have you known that you haven't killed, Sith?"

"Not all Sith are about killing Jedi. Far better, sometimes, to find the ones like yourself." She smiled, slowly.

Like myself, Peg thought. She recalled the last few days: the sheer arrogance of the Grand Master, once she finally answered that call; her brother's sadness; the fear for her own life in the Refugee Sector; the exhilaration as she mutilated her attacker.

"What makes you think I'd be interested?"

"Jedi...fall hard. Deliciously so." The Sith spoke casually. "I can see it in you. You've got a hunger, now. The light's abandoned you, and the darkness calls out. You're just afraid. Curious, needing, but afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Peg replied defiantly.

"Yes, you're too afraid to admit you're afraid. That's what almost killed you."

"How...?"

"I was there, watching. I've been tracking you since you landed. Who do you think carried you to the kolto tank?"

Peg felt the kolto patch for a moment, then moved her head as if looking at the Sith. Her brow furrowed in thought.

"What do you want?"

"I can get you a holocron. The holocron of Darth Angral. I'm debating letting you borrow it, but even so..."

Something clicked inside Peg. Sith holocrons were forbidden to be activated by all but the strongest Jedi, and this Sith was offering her a chance to learn the forbidden. Sith teachings would help her avenge her brother against his true killers: the Jedi Council.

The Twi'lek tilted her head to study the young Jedi. "You know what the Jedi are. Despite their," she paused, pondering the right word, "front of righteousness, of goodness, they can scheme and lie and deceive with the best of them. And they get away with it, because they and so many others think they do it for the 'greater good'." Scorn filled her voice. "I wouldn't put it past them to put such a tempting fall before me to gain information."

Peg felt her anger flare once more. "I know exactly what those on the Council are like. Arrogant, self-righteous..." She took a breath, trying to get herself under control. "They killed my brother's spirit long before his physical death. If they're setting you up, they set me up, too. That ... I cannot forgive."

"Revan's blood, the child can see the obvious," the Sith snorted. "No pun intended. Go to Korriban. If you have second thoughts, you want more time, to hell with it. The Sith do not suffer weakness. You will die there, or your soul will be burned through its sacred ground and you will live." She fixed Peg with a cold stare. "If you survive your first day," she emphasized the word 'survive' with a sneer, "the holocron is yours – for a time. If you don't return it, I'll boil your blood with a thought."

It took all of two seconds consideration for Peg to come to a decision.

"Deal."

A few days later, Pegali Skyrunner stepped off the shuttle and into the hot Korriban sun. The heat of the sand-blasted world seeped into her, feeding her newfound intensity. Under the surface of the planet, she could feel the dormant dark power of the planet waiting to be claimed.

"I think I'll enjoy this," she told herself aloud. With that, she shouldered her Sith training saber and went forward to face her new life, to become Sith . . . or die.

Pegali swore right then that she would not die. The power of the Dark Side would be hers, and the Jedi would rue the day they let – nay, goaded one of their best and brightest into falling.

A red-skinned Pureblood Sith, also a new acolyte, muscled past her. Sticking out her foot, Peg sent him sprawling on the hard red rock. She chuckled coldly as she continued on, ignoring her rival's heated stare.

Author's Note: If you were to guess that the Red Sith at the end was Ffon Althe, you'd probably be right. :) To be fair, this tale was at least partially written in collaboration with an online friend, whose own Sith Sorcerer, Quaya, interacted with my first Jedi Sentinel before I rerolled the Sentinel as a Sith Sorcerer.

This is about as close to a canon class story scene as I'll manage for this series of 'fics.