Note: OMG! I GOT A 4.0 GPA THIS SEMESTER! O.O

ok enough of that.

This first scene is my favorite of the whole episode, beside 'the man' messing with that girls head before. It felt awful of me to stick his fingers in her head, and rather disgusting to describe the man, but it was essential to her development. She is a Jedi, but a very confused, emotional one right now. She is vulnerable, she is confused, she is surrounded by enemies and people who are messing with her head while her allies are stamping her with 'classified'. Yea, not good.

But this first scene is still my favorite. Because it's based on real stuff that happened in my life. I did that kind of stuff and I felt that as a good scene where Varus has fun with Falon, that it would be good. Besides, the story as a whole is not based around Varus's friends, but Varus and Tree-Hugger mostly. Varus develops trust, he develops understanding and empathy and things his Starkiller side never had. The result is that naturally he is going to be more prone to having friends. Even if the scenes of friendship are few, I wanted them to be… human.

Just simply human. Which is a theme I keep going back to in developing Varus vs. Starkiller as he drifts away from how he used to be. There is still some of Starkiller left in him, but it has been overshadowed a lot by Varus through Tree-Hugger step-by-step efforts. To be honest, It is now rather hard even for me to tell what parts of his character is Varus and which parts are Starkiller now. The transition is so smooth and merging at the same time. He will never stop being Starkiller in his base personality, but the core aspects, the ones that defined him as evil, are being erased and explored anew with new things. Trust, friendship, so on.

Enough sappy. I need to break some stuff.

This chapter gave me goose bumps. The first scene is my favorite, but the sheer impact of the last scene is practically tied. I don't know which one I like more!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the clothes on my back.

Episode 8 - Shadows of Coruscant Part 3/3

"Is it dead?" I wonder.

Falcon glances up at my food. "Yes." He says deadpan.

Really? Because I'm pushing down on it with a spoon and… well. "But it's bleeding!" I argue.

"That's juice."

Should a steak be having red juice? No, I think it's still alive. I can all but hear the animal squealing. I stick a knife down in it and lots of juice comes out. Just to be sure, I push down on my potatoes as well. "Ewww" I say.

Falcon groans. "Not everything bleeds when you push on it!"

I laugh. "I know, I know. I'm messing. But really, look at this." I push down and a ton of juice comes out. "Its bleeeeediiing!" I fake-cry. Falcon groans in shame and I laugh.

"You shouldn't be in public anymore." He tells me. "Your humiliating yourself."

"Nope, not really, no. I'm not." I'm laughing so hard I'm crying. I haven't felt this good in ages. Actually I only remember truly laughing one other time in my amnesia-istic life. If that is even a word. It's weird, but ever since I found I could truly trust my team, my friends, and was able to laugh. It was like a flood gate had opened inside. At first I had felt nothing but void and emptiness when I awoke, but I guess that's natural for amnesia. Maybe. But now… The sky is bright, the gardens are calming, and, while I refuse to be sappy, life is just… fun. I just want more and more of it all of a sudden.

Starting with making a fool of myself. People are staring, but what do I care? Let them look. If they are so concerned about me then they have issues. I would take away some points from them, but I can't be bothered to remember them after I leave.

"Well, your humiliating meeeee." He groans. He eats his vegetables and the little meat I forced him to order. (Actually I ordered for him while he was gone.)

"Fine fine fine." I chuckle and force myself to calm down. "I'll resist the urge to stick things up my nose and-"

"Don't you dare!" He gasps. I burst out in laughter again.

This kid is too much fun to mess with. From the small smile on him and his pouting, he knows he is enjoying the teasing, but his stupid pride won't let him relax about it and laugh along. If he does I'll give him some points just to be nice. If I tell him so will he do it? Hmm, probably not.

"It's… not about me… being in public, bud." I say honestly amidst gasps of air. "It's me being bored. I don't respond well to it. Ask Tree-Hugger. My head rarely sits still."

I think the psychologist guy said I was ADD or AHJH or ADHG or something. Something starting with AD and had an H in there. I wasn't paying much attention.

After we finish our food the waitress brings us something interesting. It's a cookie inside a little air bag. The cookie is in some kind of shape and there's a note inside. "What's this?" I ask.

"It's a kind of game." He tells me. "If you can guess what wish is on the note, it will be granted. It's not real, but it's just fun to do."

"Ah." I pick mine up and examine it. The note is wrapped up inside the cookie in a way that I can't read it.

Falcon picks his up and closes his eyes a moment. "Mine is going to be something related to health and productivity."

"Should you even be able to say 'prodochivity' at your age?" I scoff.

"Its 'prod-uc-tiv-ity'."

"Whatever."

He tears his bag open at the seam, tears the cookie apart and reads the note, "Work is best done at the freshest hour of the day. May you sleep well and wake fresh."

"Is that a wish or it telling you you're going to do it?"

"Hard to say. Kind of both. But I'm right."

"Yeah… You know its cheating to use the Force on innocent cookies. What did it do to you?"

He smiles and chews on it. I ask, "What technique did you use?"

"Not saying." He says with a triumphant smirk and a mouthful of cookie.

Ass. Ok, my turn. Considering the way the Force loves me, I don't need any special tricks to figure it out. "Mine is related to patience, knowing my streak."

I mimic him and tear it open at the seam, except it won't give. I pull harder. Nothing. I turn it around and go for the other side of the seam and it just won't open! I pull, I tear, I squeeze, I pinch, I use a fingernail on the plastic. Heck, I even resort to using my teeth and growling like a rabid dog!

"Settle." He says with a faint chuckle. "It's just a little baggy. I can see why you need a wish for patience."

I drop it down in front of me and glare at the baggy. It is taunting me, I just know it. And the problem is ITS WINNING! Aggravating little piece of… of… GAH! "Screw it." I smash my fist down.

And it explodes loudly sending all of its contents scattering over the table next to us. A woman next to me cringes as her hair is full of bits of cookie. There is cookie on their plates, the table… the cookie bits went as far the floor on the other side of them.

Now people are staring at me.

Falcon and I look at each other in equally shocked expressions and we burst out in laughter until we cry.

Ahsoka fixed the strap of her bag as she stepped into the brightly lit lobby of her apartment complex. The twin waterfalls sparkled and a few droplets of water hovered gently just beneath the light fixtures, creating a radiance of colors. The Jedi team by the water's practiced and meditated with the droplets. To them it was practical. Water was far more difficult to work with than sand or chairs, as most did, but Ahsoka wasn't looking at it practically. The light produced was simply beautiful.

The night had kicked in and people had turned in for sleep. The lobby itself was empty except for a few stragglers. Amongst them she noticed a kid with golden hair and Varus sitting on a couch peering over something on a coffee table.

"Hey." She greeted them.

Varus mumbled his greetings and kept his attention to the table, or rather the papers on the table. The golden-head kid on the other hand made strides to greet her with a bow of the head. As Varus had his attention completely on something, she didn't bother asking him before plopping down beside him.

"What are you doing?" She asked. She peered down at the papers. Several were of blood work results and one was paperwork to buy an apartment. "Your moving in?" She asked brightly.

Despite her reservations due to her first encounter, she had come to like her partner quite a bit. He was aggravating, but fun, and he was genuinely trying to do better in all aspects.

"Working on it." He mumbled thoughtfully. "Hey, girly, what does this mean?"

He pointed to some figures. She picked up the paper and looked at it. It was a number of statistics of specific DNA strands and cells in his body. Overall it was a very thorough blood examination.

"I'm not a doctor, I don't know." She said defensively. "Why ask me?"

"Because I'm curious."

She sighed. "From what little I know, this shows you're in perfect health. Now, why do you want to know? That isn't part of the apartment paperwork."

"Falcon says it can tell me what diseases I'll most likely get. Like cancer or some crap."

Falcon put his hands up. "Hey, I said you could see high blood pressure or a weak immune system, you're going off on a reaaaaly deep tangent."

"Whatever." Varus yawned.

He grabbed the papers together, but Ahsoka took them and looked through them. "Did you write everything down for moving in?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He said off-handily.

"So you wrote your name is Varus Wynn?"

"Yes." He groaned. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Your age is nineteen."

"Yes…"

"Your race is Miraluka."

"Ye-… what?" Varus opened his eyes.

"I said-"

"I know what you said." Varus snapped. He jumped up straight and took them back. "This can't be right."

"The blood work is rarely wrong." Falcon argued.

"Maybe, but…" Varus flipped through the pages until he found the words:

Race: Miraluka Male

"This can't be right." Varus repeated almost desperately. "I'm human."

"Miraluka is very similar to humans." Falcon said factually. "In all respects they are, but they are born blind and have an unnatural attunement with the Force."

"Do I look blind to you?" He barked.

"Varus." Ahsoka said gently. "I can understand you may think your human, like everyone else who looks like you, having come from amnesia, but the blood work is rarely wrong. It's based on DNA, inherited genes, and other factors to find ancestry. You may not be human, but you know what? That's O.K." She smiled and Varus seemed to calm down.

Inside her mind was excited for him. All this time they had assumed he was like everyone else who looked like him, but found otherwise. This was important. Unfortunately it could also hurt him if he felt alien. Being a non-human herself, she could understand the racism and looks he could be expecting, but honestly… "It's not that big a deal if you are different, Varus."

He gave her a withering look.

"Varus." Ahsoka raised a brow skeptically. "Look at me." He did. "I'm a Togruta with red and white stripes on my tendrils, and the rest of my is whittish-red shades. Just about every person you ask will assume I'm Twi'lek. If anyone understands the racism that comes about from that, its me."

His expression warmed in appreciation and understanding, but just as quickly he shook it all away. "No, no." He pulled out his data pad and showed them, "It has me listed as human."

"Then it's a mistake, or just a generic listing. Your actually a sub-category of human." She shrugged.

"No, it should be precise. Didn't they take blood work in THIS original profile as well? Didn't they look me up? Didn't they do vast research? All this place here has done is tap my finger."

"It is rather odd." Falcon agreed.

"Then it is something we take up with Master Anakin, tomorrow. The three of us will fix it, together." Ahsoka put her foot down. "For the moment, put yourself in as a Miraluka, whatever that is, and get to your apartment. I would join you, -to see what it looks like!- but I'm dead on my feet. I will see you tomorrow."

"Alright." Varus sighed.

Ahsoka looked her partner over closely. The… Miraluka as he evidently is, was taking it hard, but wasn't breaking down. He was shocked but wasn't hurt deep. It was more of a need to change perspective in life, perhaps. Varus was also unnaturally thoughtful, moody, but trying to be calm.

But with revelations on his mind, she would have been afraid if he wasn't thoughtful, moody, and trying to retain his anger. "You better get some sleep, Varus." She squeezes his shoulder comfortingly, gets up, and leaves him.

Ahsoka returned to her room and gaped. Very little was left standing. Little was broken, but what wasn't knocked over was filthy. Trash cluttered the floor and counters. Food, half eaten and crumbs alike, missed the trash compactors entirely or drooped off the kitchen counters. The curtain were pulled down, the bed undone and tossed over, and sheets curled up on the floor as though Maris had resorted to sleeping on the floor.

Guilt gripped her, and Ahsoka regretted leaving her friend behind. Others had been checking up on her, but Maris needed constant watch. Despite the urgency of her mission, she wished she had stayed and made sure Maris hadn't hurt herself.

Speaking of which, just where was Maris?! "Maris!" Ahsoka called. She pulled the bed back down, checked the fresher, opened every door, every closet, heck she even opened the oven just in case.

Maris was gone.

I'm a Miraluka…

I wish I could say that it didn't affect me, that I went on with the same usual casualness I usually do, but then I guess those are things that don't matter to me. It very clearly matters to me that I am not human, but are, in fact, another species entirely that merely looks human. A sub-species Falon explained.

I turn the paperwork in, and receive confirmation that the apartment now belongs to myself. Falon, nice kid, walks me to the apartment and wishes me good night before I close the door.

Left to my own devices, I no longer care about the room. The furnishings are comfortable, the green carpet is black in the night light, and I close all of the curtains and blinds off. I do not want to be seen from the outside. In a daze I plop down on the couch. An hour, maybe two, I don't know. I just sit there and think…

The robot had originally informed me I was human. The paperwork was all there. I was content with it. I was being given a life… a… No. Life was being handed to me on a silver platter. All this time I have allowed the Jedi and the Republic, to hand me every detail, every comfort, without me having to so much as lift a finger. I'm grateful. I appreciate the amount of effort they put on my accord, and the fact that of all people that Tree-Hugger is my teacher and Master.

But then comes the problem… I realize. Not only did I allow them to hand me my life so smoothly, I WANTED it! Because it was easy! It was lazy and… I was almost afraid of what they would find if they did look. Though perhaps not in that straight train of thought.

I didn't think to question, I didn't beg to differ. Heck, I didn't go to them and make them check over the facts to be sure they were true! They gave them to me, I didn't question… and now it seems they were wrong.

Where else were they wrong?

If my race wasn't human, but Miraluka… then was my name really Varus Wynn? Were my parents born of Taris, or rather of this Miraluka home world and immigrated to Taris? Did Taris truly ever even have anything to do with this?! How do I know I wasn't born on a trading frigate? A military battle cruiser? A dirt farmer! There was so many possibilies.

But no… There is one true fact. Out of every fact that lacks true confirmation: I'm a Miraluka.

I snap on the Data pad and search the holonet for information on "Miraluka".

Obi-Wan passed through the holographic tape signs and entered the crime scene. Police, detectives, investigators, medical personnel, and a few clones all assembled around the scene poking and prodding what may be evidence of the man's death. Obi was not particularly needed. In fact he had no skills at all in criminal investigation or any medical experience beyond front-lines emergency medical care, but the Jedi did take a special interest in the death of the man in question.

The scene itself was nothing special in his eyes. It didn't look like an explosion had gone off, nor any shots fired or what-not, but there was a lot of blood; almost enough blood to fill a bucket. They were outside, just on the corner of a public cross-walk for a lower level Sector. Hovercar traffic was terminated, and people were detoured at the nearest block.

A ranking officer of the investigation approached the Jedi Master on his approach and shook his hand. "Thank you for calling us." Obi said. "I hope my presence is not an inconvenience."

"To be honest, as much blood as Joe here left behind, your boots may be stepping in who-knows-what, but it is important you identify him for both of our superiors." The man said gruffly. He didn't appear to appreciate Obi-wan's presence, but he respected chain of authority enough to not show it. Undoubtedly, if this man was walking all over Obi-Wan's investigations, then the Jedi Master would be a bit… irked as well.

"Then I shall endeavor to make this brief. May I see him?"

"Certainly." The man waved the Jedi over. "Muniz! Come here."

The two of them approached the body and an alien, Muniz evidentially, approached in a white medical jacket. 'Joe' was upside in his own blood. He wore a black robe over himself and black gloves and thick black boots. Generally every inch of his body was covered in black.

Obi-Wan tenderly reached down with two fingers to lift the hood, but Muniz smacked his hand aside and eyed him. Obi smiled sheepishly and allowed the man to do it for him. Muniz, with thin fingers more akin to individual tentacles because of their ability to bend in any direction, lifted the hood just enough for the Jedi to lean down and see the man's face.

It was definitely the 'Manager' they had been keeping an eye out for. Or used to be.

"Sithspit!" Obi-Wan moved his head away and covered his mouth and nose. The smell suddenly hit him and he fought back intense nausea.

The man, very much dead, looked like he had been through a meat grinder or, more accurately, bathed in acid. His skin was gone, his eyes black and burned, his teeth gone or chipping in rot, his bones showed and were a sickly yellow color, and his eyes were bleeding and filled with green puss. The man's revealed muscle was brownish-black and covered in flies.

He wasn't just dead, it looked like he had been rotting for years.

Which shouldn't be, the man had been working under the shadows for the last several months to conduct some kind of experiment.

"I take it you found what you were looking for?" The officer asked.

Obi-Wan nodded firmly while trying not to throw up. "Did you find anything on him?"

"I will forward the results of our investigation on this murder when it is done."

"Murder?"

The man nodded. "A camera showed that he was ambling along with difficulty and collapsed. A woman approached him, pretending to see if she could help him, but then a minute later stole things from his robes and ran off into the alley way. We will find her and see how she is involved in this."

Obi-Wan scrunched his eye brows in thought.

An accomplice tying up loose ends? A random thief? There were many versions and answers, but if the woman knew of the man specifically enough to target him, she might be involved.

"I look forward to reading it. As well as knowing what killed him." He said with barely contained disgust. "Thank you."

Obi-Wan carefully walked on tip-toe and hoped he didn't mess anything up anymore as he left. He glanced back and exchanged respectful nods with the officer before going on his way.

Another pile of paperwork, another day in the good old damned Republic.

Sidius sometimes wished he was dealing with Mandaloriens… They didn't like paperwork. They had it, of course, but only the essentials. You wanted someone dead? Write a name and stick a knife in the page. You wanted to establish trade routes? Get to work and let the individual businesses deal with the mumbo-jumbo. The only laws really necessary is 'contract' laws.

The Republic had paperwork for EVERYTHING! "What does it matter if the flags on the senate building are 7x8 or 7x9!?" He muttered to himself.

Then again, someone evidentially cared, because the 'public statement' included the words: Racist, bigot, unpatriotic, and a lot of other crap that had NOTHING to do with flag proportions! Sidius would be happy with a little jacket pin for a flag right about now just as much as the huge tapestries hanging off every wall and exit in the building. Not that he didn't like huge tapestries showing off what belonged to him, but it wasn't something to big as to have the senators in a huge huff about it!

Apparently the size of the flags was also a religious blasphemy for some… Sidius groaned and stamped his approval. Whatever made the idiots happy, so long as they shut up about it.

Next… A restaurant was being sued for not having as much food on their plates as is portrayed in a picture… JUST HOW STUPID COULD PEOPLE BE!? It's called false advertising, which is not only legal, it's a common practice! Besides, if you get something, find its not to your satisfaction… It's a perfectly good and reasonable business practice to STOP BUYING IT!

Sidius wished he could slam his face into the desk repeatedly over the sheer stupidity of people without it being recorded on a million cameras spying on him from the various skyscrapers in the distance. Technically his windows were designed to not allow anyone to look inside, but there were two cameras in the room open to public holonet viewing, so people all over the world could see their 'illustrious leader' was working 24/7 for their benefit. (Except in meetings, which he shut them down for.)

It was not a healthy political image for people to watch Supreme Chancellor Palpatine slam his face into his desk.

Sidius dinged his secretary's phone and said, "Alfred, come in please."

Nothing.

He clicked it again. "Alfred."

Sidius looked to the comm and clicked the button. No sound. No busy signal, nothing. It was dead.

The lights turned off and the little red lights on the cameras disappeared. The holographic screens around him disappeared. The buttons lost their lighting effect.

All power shut down in his room.

Sidius calmly looked around the dark room. He drifted a hand down to a drawer where he kept a blaster. He also kept his lightsaber hidden in the room, in a place only he knew, but he needed to keep it secret until absolutely necessary. With calmness born of a true Dark Lord, he peered into the darkness and pulled out his blaster pistol.

There shouldn't be an assassin, not that any he knew of. His mind went through possibilities.

Count Dooku betraying him? Certainly a possibility, especially being a Sith practice, but it would do nothing to elevate Dooku's position or power amongst the Sith. Only if Dooku fought and killed him personally would he gain anything from it outside of a purely political standpoint.

Mandaloriens? No, they never worked in the dark. If they wanted Palpatine dead, they would attack with a fleet of ships and bombard the planet from orbit.

Hutts? Possible, but they were allied with Sidius and he couldn't think of a reason they would do it. They were aware of his Dark Side status just as much as his overall plot with the Republic, but they merely stayed out of it. He allowed them to hold onto their territory in return for their future loyalty. Profit for everyone.

Did the Jedi know of him? If they did, they would be barging in and arresting him. They were amazingly predictable.

No, he couldn't think of any true assassin, but that didn't mean he wasn't in trouble.

Sidius carefully rose and moved into the open away from obstacles. He kept his peripheral vision on his hidden lightsaber, just in case, and he waited.

Out of a deep, dark shadow in the corner a figure walked into his sight. The figure's arms were hidden in his dark robes, but Sidius didn't feel any tremors in the Force of a threat to his life. The figure presented two arms, wearing black gloves, reached up, and threw back the hood. A woman evidentially, but more than that.

A Sith. Her eyes, dark and sickly as a Sith could be, were easy to see in the shadows. She gazed on Sidius passively, and he felt he recognized her empty sight. It lacked emotion in every form, but he just couldn't place her. "Who are you?" He asked.

The woman cocked her head slightly to the side in a curious manner and walked forward.

Sidius had half a mind to raise his pistol, but this was a Sith. She appeared to know him, and besides. Pistols were useless against Force users in many cases. He placed it aside and, reaching out, called his saber to himself. He didn't turn it on, but he kept it in his hands.

The woman walked right up to him, and peered him in the eyes. He met her gaze with all of the hatred, anger, and emotion he had kept bottled up for the last many years he has been a Senator. He wasn't just a Sith himself, he was a Sith Lord! He was not about to be looked down upon by some stranger.

"You have much to answer for." She said. Her voice lacked emotion just as much as her eyes, and her posture gave away nothing. She was relaxed, uncaring, almost ethereal in how she drifted.

"Not to the likes of you, I don't." He responded, raising himself up to his full height.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why did you betray your fellows, Sidius? You were supposed to be the one to hold the Republic back. Instead you employed them against your comrades. Sion, Traya, Revan, Malek, the list goes on."

Sidius studied her, and her words. Clearly she knew not only who he was, but his position amongst the Sith 'triad'. Everyone had a place. Revan and Malak lead the armies, and them as a whole. Sion assassinated targets. Nihilus assassinated worlds. Traya helped watch over all of them, and he? Sidius himself was the mole in the Republic who ensured they could work with as much impunity as they wished. Of course it had all started crashing down with Malak's betrayal, then Revan falling to the Jedi's ideals again, Nihilus and Sion turning on Traya, and so on and so on.

But no, he had no part in any of it. It was all Sith turning on Sith. Predictable as ever.

"My voice has always been singular in nature." Sidius allowed an answer. "While the chaos and arguments I erupted slowed down the Senate, you must realize I have never held true power over them till now."

"Which you immediately used to turn on me." The woman answered smoothly.

Sidius studied her, her face, her body, her… Her body. Smoke billowed out of her chest.

Seeing his curious gaze, the woman looked down on herself. "Yes… breasts… This one had a great deal of cumbersome flesh. Flesh best removed. If I had known woman have so much in the way, I might have opted to wait further for a male."

Sidius briefly allowed shock to come over him before he let it fuel him, and then immediately squashed down. The woman was clearly insane. "I have not betrayed the plan." Sidius informed her. "My position has only strengthened over the years. In time, my objective will be done."

"You take too long." She snapped at him suddenly, then just as quickly her anger was gone and left with… nothing. In fact the emptiness inside her seemed to extend out into the darkness. The shadows that always kept Sidius safe only seemed to become hungry and turn on him like wolves. The shadows extended toward him with grasping hands and he resisted the power emanating from them.

The shadows recoiled, but her empty gaze held to him. "I came here, seeking to weaken the Light. I came, and what did you do? Did you hold them back? No. Did you give them false information or… anything? No. How can we achieve the balance in the Force we have all striven for, when you use the very Light you should be diminishing and fight me."

Sidius scoffed. Despite the overwhelming power and inner-hungry coming off the woman in massive waves, he found her funny. Her madness was the only thing that matched her ego and power. Power that, perhaps, matched his own.

He was in a corner. She had him trapped in checkmate. Yes, he was afraid, but he let it fuel him. If she was here for revenge, it would take everything he had to resist her, and then the Jedi would undoubtedly feel the Dark Side power clashing. Only an idiot wouldn't notice that it would be occurring in his chambers. Everything he had been building up on, everything the 'triad' had built, would come crashing down if this woman simply struck out at him. One move, and all would be lost.

It was as close to checkmate as he could recall being.

"Why are you here?" Sidius asked. He fixed his sweaty grip on his saber.

"I noticed your puppets found one our labs. I must admit… It worried me when one stole the Holocron of Revan. But that is not my concern. Your game with the Jedi and your game with the galaxy is not my concern right now either. What IS my concern is your game with what is mine."

The woman finished sharply with the flatly. The silence that came after was deafening, making her silent whispers sound like they were booming. "You have taken what is mine, and I will take him back. He has yet to pass his trials, and I intend to ensure he does."

"I have done nothing against you, I have taken nothing and nobody from you! But for the sake of our cause, I ask that you return to Korriban and leave me to my own devices. To put it simply: I don't know you. "

"You may not this 'one', but you do know me."

"Oh? How so-" The woman slammed an object down on the desk beside him and he froze, his jaw hanging loose. His fingers ached, and the shadows almost screamed in painful hunger. The woman's emotionless gaze only seemed to deepen, and her sheer power was massive in both its empty depth and its scale. The sight of the object sent a dark, cold, hollow chill up his spine. The shadows and darkness surrounded the object so vividly he could see it with the naked eye.

The mask of Darth Nihilus.

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