He hadn't remembered falling asleep. Broer had tried to escape the grip of slumber so he could reflect on his new found knowledge. It wasn't much, Sidious had withheld much information. With what he did learn he kept lying awake picking apart the details.

After the Second Great Schism when many Jedi split from the order, the hundreds of Dark Jedi created an army starting the Hundred Year Darkness. Decades of fighting went on and on between the two groups of force users. Finally at Corbos the war ended, a Jedi victory. The Republic wanted all the Dark Jedi executed but the Jedi made their worst mistake. They merely exiled the Dark Jedi to the Unknown Regions.

These exiles found their way onto Korriban home to the Sith. A barbaric race symbiotic to the dark side that once had an empire spanning multiple planets. Now they were just barbarians once again. The exiles were seen as gods by the Sith and the exiles became the first Dark Lords of the Sith.

The Dark Lords recreated the Sith Empire from the ashes of the old one. Over centuries they rebuilt it.

Broer didn't know further than that except for one word, one name, one title. The Sith'ari. Sidious didn't tell Broer who the identity of the title was or even what it meant.

After a small review of his knowledge Broer became aware that where he was, was not his quarters he was staying in. It was much smaller and much more bare, just a worn down bed. He could sense no life either. It felt empty.

He leapt out of his bed and analysed the only door in the dark room. There was no control panel for the door and there was no place on the door for slicing the door's functions. That left Broer with the most obvious option, the force. A intangible grip strained on the door to slide open. Broer put all of his strength into sliding the door open but to no avail. Next he used the force to punch its way through the door but that proved useless as well. Something was keeping this door in place.

Nothing was in the room that could have aided him, in fact the room was empty par the bed. A feeling of hopelessness brewed inside Broer until he did notice something in the room besides the bed. A backpack. He quickly went over to the bag and rummaged through it. The new hope diminished when he discovered that the bag only contained: a dark grey jumpsuit not too dissimilar to the one he wore on Bespin, a glow rod, and some military rations to last someone a few weeks. Nothing to give him any clues of his location or to where he was.

He could at least he was in a ship because he could feel the almost living breathing of the hyperdrives working their gears. With no options Broer sat down on the cold floor and began to meditate. Pondering his location and recent events.

The visions were more abstract this time, ripples in the force cascading from the darkness. It was as if a large rock had been dropped decades ago causing currents that have lasted into the modern day and perhaps beyond. He tried to swim back, back in time, treading through the force. As he got closer he sensed a distant feeling of pain and strangely enough even closer, the feeling of hope and family, hope for unity. However there were threads of innocence lost, a children plunged into darkness.

The pain was closer now. The axis of the pain was fire. The smoke made it hard for Broer to breath, it snaked around his lungs closing him seemingly off to the living force. Suffocation came literally and figuratively, there a wall blocking him off. A wall that held a shattered heart. The ash contorted into a dark figure staring spears into Broer.

Limbs became molten lead and burned with the intensity of a supernova.

Broer screamed and he was snapped out of his meditation, his pain creating a shockwave with the force tearing apart the bed in the ship's quarters. He keeled over panting and gasping to precious air.

After regaining some oxygen he noticed the door in the quarters was open. He took the bag, unaffected by the blast, with him and went out of the door. The room he entered looked like the galley, it was dark empty. In fact the whole ship was empty: guns, bridge, engine room and all.

Surprisingly to Broer the entrance to the ship was unlocked. He opened the hatch and stopped himself as he stared outside. Before he even saw the location he was in he could sense the effect of the force in this location. It was dark but not in the Sith way. Tragedy stained this planet. After the feeling the emotions he realised he could not breath at first. The air felt toxic. It smelled of sulphur. The world was hellish. Something straight out of mythological tales.

Like Hell from Corellian lore. the Void, the Netherworld, Chaos.

The land burnt black and bled orange lakes of fire. Mountains of ash held lava falls. Blaze shot up in the air and speckles of flame riddled the air. Broer could see no buildings but little droids carrying buckets of ore repulsed over the lava rivers.

The ship holding Broer appeared to have been landed on a plateau. He stepped down the ramp and felt the boiling air weigh him down.

He heard a click and some static behind him towards the ship. There was a little spider-like machine that projected an image of the hooded Dark Lord of the Sith, Sidious. Broer kneeled before the hologram ignoring the pain of the ash burning his knee and legs.

"What is it my master?" Broer asked.

"I have brought you to this place as the first part of your training. You will discover this world's secrets to be most informative. You will survive here alone for an indefinite amount of time. I had done a similar task with my master, I had learned the fires that forged my master in his youth. These fires will forge you my apprentice."

Broer hesitated to ask how long he would stay here but he stopped himself. Something told him he would not get an answer. Also his sense of danger stopped him. He only just rolled away and off of the plateau as the ship and holoprojector exploded in a fiery demise.

He tumbled down the edge of the plateau, cuts forming in his skin and clothing from scraping along jagged obsidian. He would have almost taken a dive into magma had he not compelled the force to throw him to a small ledge on the side of large rock formation.

He heaved himself to his feet and then fell down, sitting. He clutched at his wounds. Everything was still in his bag but he was bleeding badly. Bruised and battered Broer struggled to stay conscious.

Red thunder flashed across dark clouds. Horror flashed in Broer's mind. This was no place for a living being. Nothing could survive here. No water, no food, only death. Was this his punishment for joining the Sith? Was this his own personal Chaos.

He felt even more weak because while the force was strong in this place, it was broken. Only misery survived on this scarred planet.

What could have caused this?

The world felt distant yet familiar, like it had some sort of tie to him. This would be his home, his grave.

He nodded off, about to fall into sleep. An eternal slumber. He was losing his grip on this world, he felt faint. Crimson dripped onto black ground.

No. I can't die this way. He shook, his muscles tense. No. No. I can't.

Pieces of gravel started to shake and rise in the air. The ledge Broer was sitting on shook and became less stable.

"NO!"

The ledge fell dropping Broer into the ocean of embers.