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Devaron, 20 BBY

The temperate and heavily forested world of Devaron was a planet full of life. Large vines of jungle stretched across the planet's surface, teeming with wildlife of all shapes and sizes. The native race of the planet, the Devaronians, had maintained a cultural practice of preserving the nature of the world. The males, often resembled devils with their bald head and horns, roamed the jungles while overcome with wanderlust. The females, who had no horns and full heads of hair, maintained and created the cities and societies that stood the test of time.

Additionally, the planet was strong in the Force, with the Devaronians having high numbers of force sensitives among their numbers. Females tended to focus more on the mystic presence as the males still were overcome by wanderlust. This eventually led to the creation of the Temple of Eedit over a spot of vergence in the force, established by the Jedi Order. At one point it housed many students and teachers, learning and mastering their abilities.

Now, in the middle of the galactic conflict known as the Clone Wars, it was watched over by a single master and their apprentice. The two Jedi were not alone though. A detachment of clone ARF troopers led by clone Commander Trauma helped in holding what was now a Republic surveillance post. The small group would soon be under siege by the droid forces of the Confederacy of Independent Systems though. And accompanying the droids would be an agent of a hidden foe.

But that was not what caused the Force to stir. No, it was indifferent to the lives lost at the temple. What was causing the ancient and all present Force to stir was an anomaly. A hole, closer to a violent tear, in the fabric of the universe was the source of the disturbance. An unaccounted for variable had been placed in the galaxy. Something was very wrong, as a hole in reality burned its way into the sky of Devaron. A bright green portal shook with energy as it twirled in place. Grey pieces of smashed automatons came flying through, later accompanied by a much larger object.

The brilliantly red armored figure fell towards the planet's surface like a meteor, silverish blonde hair flying from its head. As the ground grew closer, crimson energy took the shape of angelic wings as they flapped against gravity. What would have been a crushing fall was turned into a beautiful landing, as the hulking figure of a man landed with a crouch. The robotic pieces that had fallen with it scattered across the jungle floor, as the wings stretched out.

Artistically crafted, lacquered red armor radiated in the sunlight, its sculpt like a flayed corpse. A black cloak fluttered behind the man, leading to a massive high collar topped with silver skulls and spikes. Silver wings around a blood drop sat in the middle of his waist, a similar icon on his left pauldron. His right, black gloved, hand held a massive sword adorned with mystic runes. Hanging from his belt and left gloved hand were vials of red liquid. Strapped to the side of his armor sat a gilded reliquary holding a thick tome.

Despite all the grandeur and artistry, the most striking part of the man was his face. It was as if someone had taken a once heroically beautiful and statuesque man and subjected them to the worst of the galaxy. His skin was pale and gaunt, his expression as cold as it was fierce, eyes unblinking with dark secrets. A frown accompanied by a snarl revealed sharp fangs as the angelic monster looked around.

This was Mephiston. Chief Librarian of the Blood Angels Chapter, known amongst his Battle-Brothers as the Lord of Death.

Rising to his full height of nearly eight feet, the Primaris marine took in his surroundings with a scowl. He had been aboard the Blood Oath with his men, joining Chapter Master Dante on a crusade to the galactic north of the Baal system. But then that infernal and vile Cryptek, Xhartekh, that escaped him all those years ago ambushed them. It had not been a long battle with the Necrons, the Sons of Sanguinius had made short work of the bulk of them. It was their success that had lowered the Chief Librarian's guard.

The xeno had utilized a strange prism that had harnessed light. Sifting through his extensive memory on the Necron tools, Mephiston only knew it as some kind of time dialation device. Looking around, the Librarian knew there had to be more to the device than what he knew, for there was no planet like this in the sector.

Reaching out with his mind, Mephiston stepped back in shock. There were no whispers, there were no promises of power, no pushes to give into his rage, no attempts to get him to dive into heretical lore. The Warp was silent. Cautiously, far more cautiously than he had even been with his powers, he probed into the great sea that was the Immaterium. It was quiet, like staring at a still lake on a serene day. It wasn't right, this had to be some sort of trick, some kind of trap to fall into the hands of a Daemon.

Pushing a little further, Mephiston sought to find some kind of semblance of Warp activity. Prodding a little further, he found...something. It was like a vast ocean filled with life, just beyond his senses. Lying just underneath what he knew. Yet there were no calls to come closer, to embrace the power, as would be normal for the Warp. Instead it seemed like this ocean simply existed, the inhabitants either aware or unaware of their place in it.

As his mind slowly inched towards the vast ocean, he stopped when he felt something. In direct contrast to the never ending fury and rage he pushed down, there was a place of calm. It was not far, nor did it dwell in whatever this ocean was. It rested here, on the Materium, a font where a mere piece of this ocean dwelled, less than a mile away.

Looking through his Seer-Sight, Mephiston was granted the sight of a temple guarded by both humans in armor and two unknown xenos. Machines fired laser weaponry at them as the armored humans returned fire. The xenos stood back, guarding the temple doors as they wielded blades of light, deflecting the bolts that came near. The humans bore no sign of the Aquila, nor did they speak any language that he was familiar with. It was indeed strange when even his vast and unfaltering memory couldn't recall any detail about what he was seeing.

What he could understand though was that there was a dark force approaching them. It had but a faint spot of the Warp in it, though it was tainted. The rest of the being seemed to be drawing whatever powers they had from the unknown ocean, fueling that taint. Curious of his location, desiring to investigate the temple, and compelled by duty to destroy the Warp entity. Mephiston began to make his way towards the fighting. The Warp was still mostly silent, even as the armored humans died, the dark force was but a small rippled across the still lake his mind found itself in.

The Lord of Death began speculation on his location, whether it was in the future or far past of the Imperium. Either way would make little sense as the Immaterium would still be more active with spirits. It wasn't like his last encounter with the Necrons, as his sight was clear and no ghosts of the dead haunted him. And if he had gone so far into the future that humanity had destroyed the Eye of Terror and freed itself from the Warp, he wouldn't be able to so easily call upon its powers. Fury began to build up in Mephiston as he was beginning to grow angry at all these constant tests.

He pushed down the anger though, focusing on the mystery in front of him. It was the will of The Emperor and The Angel that he was here. Perhaps this strange place held a secret that he was meant to find? As he grew closer, Mephiston could feel a soothing energy residing in the temple. Not just a dispassion, but a genuine sense of stillness in the Blood Angel. It was calming, like his steps outside of time.

Watching the battle with his Seer-Sight, Mephiston saw the white armored humans, aided by the xenos, successfully holding off their robotic attackers. The dark presence neared though, as a small ship of an unknown design landed, a larger xeno jumping from the cockpit. The feelings of the Warp were easier to see now. It was like a bridge between the still lake of the Warp and the mysterious ocean. The xeno held both in it, the rage it held being magnified with the duel energies. This horned one, face yellow and black, wore mostly black and wielded a glaive weapon. A laser found its way into the large xeno, as opposed to death though, the pain only empowered it further. The xeno quickly cut down the first of the humans with a grin, drawing a sneer from Mephsiton. Fascinating or not, it was a xeno witch killing humans.

The commander issued an order as he rushed the xeno. It cut down four more, leaving the commander directly in front of it. Before the armored human commander met his untimely end, the Lord of Death acted. Mephiston reached out with his power, boiling the blood of the xeno inside its own body. The armored human backed up in shock as his near executioner dropped to its knees screaming. The glaive fell as its eyes popped into blood piles, the skin of the xeno began to sizzle and burn. The commander was soon coated in the xenos blood as it exploded into a geiser of red gore.

The faint and nearly disposable ripple the xeno had created in the Warp disappeared entirely. It had not been completely destroyed though, instead it sank beneath the surface, committing itself to the vast ocean bellow. The studious Psyker noted this, perhaps meaning that the xenos essence could be called forth or summoned again like a Daemon? Mephsiston would need to know more about that vastness he felt before he attempted any kind of entry into it.

Having now arrived at the path leading to the temple, Mephiston exited the jungle emerged onto the road of red stone. Keeping his force sword Vitarus drawn, the Lord of Death began to advance up the road to the temple. Stepping over fallen machines and crushing those he didn't bother to try, the defenders now all focused on him. He did not need his powers to understand the single emotion they all felt, from human to xeno. It was the same feeling Mephiston created everywhere he weant. It was the feeling that followed in his wake ever since he defeated the Black Rage.

Fear.

Approaching the pile of gore that was once the assaulting witch of a xeno, Mephiston dipped his blade into the blood. Drawing it to his lips, the Blood Angel muttered ancient words and licked the blood. He scowled as he saw Witches fueling the xeno with dark magicks to serve as their puppet. This xeno, Savage Opress, served Witch mistresses who used a combination of arcane energy and the vast ocean he felt, the Force. This xeno had been tasked by its "mate" to seek revenge on her former master, something he had intended to do. Even in this strange place, the xeno Witches backstabbed and betrayed one another.

It had known the two other xenos as other users of the Force, warrior monks called Jedi. The languages the xeno knew were bestowed upon Mephiston as he came to understand an unsettling fact. One that caused the Chief Librarian to show the tiniest bit of surprise. This place had no Imperium of Mankind, it had no Eye of Terror, no Great Rift. The xenos species Mephiston had spent centuries warring against and learning of had no place here. This was because Mephsiton was no longer in the Milky Way Galaxy.

The Cryptek's weapon had not simply tossed him through time, it had sent him to an entirely new one. One where the Warp was nearly unknown and this Force was the main method of otherworldly powers. A place where all of his powers, all of his arcane rituals, his centuries of war, his entire Chapter's history was foriegn.

Why had this happened to him? He couldn't accept that it was as simple as the Necron's weapon failing to do its purpose. Although the xeno was tricked easily enough in their first encounter, he doubted it was that inept. No, this had to be another test sent to him by Sanguinius. But what was the goal of this one? What purpose was he supposed to serve here that would help his brothers in another galaxy?

Mephiston's mind was racing with questions as he noticed the defensive stances of those defending the temple. The armored humans, clones according to the Opress' memory, were uncertain of what to do. They were waiting for the orders of their xenos leaders, the Jedi. The Jedi were not as uncertain in how they should proceed. The taller one, a Roonan, pointed its energy weapon, a green lightsaber towards him. The smaller one, an Nautolan apprentice by the looks of it, readied its blue one.

"Sith!" The master spit the word like venom. Savage had only an inkling of what that word meant, that it was the opposite of the Jedi. In that respect the xeno was correct, however it was still an inaccurate title.

The Lord of Death saw the seven remaining clones preparing to engage him, following the lead of the jedi. That would not stand, as he would rather not strike down the humans he had just saved. With but a look, all of the clones froze in place, as still as a painting. The Jedi both recoiled like they had been struck, something that raised the Librarians eyebrow. The master was now shaking as he prepared to charge him. All that would await the xeno was the edge of Vitarus.

The xeno foolishly rushed towards him with a charge. His sword sprang into crimson fire as Mephiston channeled his power into it. It was all too easy to parry the blow the xeno tried to strike. Bringing the blade down, the xeno sensed it coming and back stepped to avoid being cut in half. His student rushed past with a cry as the much less skilled swordsman was beheaded instantly by the Primaris.

"No!" The master shot at Mephiston with an anger fueled strike, one that was batted to the side by the force sword. Shooting his free hand out, the Lord of Death grabbed the Jedi Master. His gauntleted hands engulfed the entirety of the xenos head as with a clench of his fist, it exploded into blood. These Jedi had been dealt with as easily as some gretchen were. Licking the blood from his gauntlets, new information filled Mephiston's mind.

This Jedi, Master Halsey, had been assigned by his order to protect this building. The Temple of Eedit was a well spring for the 'Light Side' of the Force. A place of healing, and where the local xenos had once partaken in spiritual lessons. He had been tasked to defend it from the Separatists with his apprentice Knox, and the clone Commander Trauma. The basic training and principles of the Jedi filled the Psykers mind and he found himself further intrigued.

This Jedi Order had stood for tens of thousands of years, a tool of the Galactic Republic. They believed that the Force was present in all life across the galaxy, with some schools of thought stretching even further. They shed most of their emotions, and dedicated their lives to the order, no emotional attachments. They believed it was a tool for peace, understanding, and that it could help bring balance to the galaxy. And yet they barred certain techniques because of a 'Dark Side'.

Mephiston scowled as this 'Master' of the Jedi had very little in actual understanding of the 'Dark Side' of the force. All the xeno knew, and refused to go further, was that emotions were a path to falling. It seemed that for all their preaching against it, the Jedi did very little to enlighten their number on the Dark Side.

The Light Side or Dark Side of the Force did not matter to the Blood Angel, there was just The Force. He had come to understand that it was about the application of the power, not the source. These Jedi seemed to think that the two sides were separated from one another as a part of a large whole. At least, this one had.

Strutting past the chrono-frozen soldiers, Mephiston opened the door to the temple. A wave of pleasantness washed over him. His scowl turned to a faint smile as he recalled his vast Libarium, orchestral symphonies filling the air as he would read though his vast collection. Entering the mostly spartan temple, he found the dichotomy between this spiritual place and the ones back in the Imperium. No angelic statues, no murals of ancient warriors battling monsters, no relics encased in glass so ancient no one remembers their original purpose.

Making his way further into the temple, Mephsiton wondered if this was what he was sent here to find. This Force. If it flowed through and connected all living things, then it flowed through and connected the Astartes. Had his Primarch, or maybe even The Emperor himself, altered the effect of the Necron's weapon so he would discover this? The calmness that flew through him could potentially be used to halt the curse of the Blood Angels. The Black Rage. He would need to know more about the Force to make that decision. More than what the xeno Jedi Master had known, and perhaps even more than what the current Jedi knew.

The memories of meditation in the Force were in Mephiston. They were not too dissimilar to the prayers and augury rituals he would perform back on Baal. The main difference was that these Jedi surrendered themselves to the Force. They let it guide their actions, and entirely trusted it with their lives. He had several lifetimes of experience that proved such ideas were dangerous. When you lowered your guard completely, you let monstrous and heretical things in. And so, as he knelt down in the center of the temple, Mephiston kept his mental defenses up as he tried to connect with the Force.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced. While his powers as a Psyker granted him extraordinary power, senses far beyond that of mortals, and the ability to reshape reality as he saw fit, this was different. Mephiston had spent his entire life keeping the forces of the Warp from his mind, from letting the ever shifting realities of the Immaterium drive him to madness. From losing all control and becoming host to any manner of Warp Spawn. But this didn't involve any of that.

He felt the world he was on breathe, the life of the jungle beating in his mind like his two hearts. He could feel the panicked emotion of the xeno natives as they were rounded up by the droids. He could read the minds of the clones outside, their anger at the Jedi for being incompetent commanders, their want to retake the planet in the name of their fallen brothers. Stretching out further he could almost feel the galaxy, all the civilizations had a flow, a life to them. He was convinced, this is what he was sent here for. To bring this to his galaxy, a new way to experience life and a weapon against the Ancient Foes.

But he would need to understand this more completely. He could not teach his brothers of it if he did not fully grasp it himself. That path could only lead to destruction, his Librarian training knew that much. Mephitson did not mind this task, he found great pleasure in learning new things, and this was perhaps the one of the greatest things. But, if this was what the 'Light Side' consisted of, he would need to feel the dark. To know fully what this Force had in its totality.

Unsure of how to proceed using the Force, Mephiston relied on his arcane rituals. Having fully memorized his masterwork of a tome, The Glutted Scythe, it was an easy task. Utilizing the blood on his gauntlet, the Lord of Death uttered ancient arcane words as the red liquid hovered in the air. It began to violently take shapes as he continued to speak, eventually forming the shape of a planet. Looking at what the blood augury had revealed, Mephiston committed the information to memory.

He had his next destination, all he needed now was a way to get there. Despite the emptiness of the Warp in this galaxy, Mephiston did not trust the ritual he had once used to cast himself through the Immaterium at long distances. Divinius Prime had been a great example of how poorly that can go, and he did not want to be responsible if his actions somehow birthed demons into existence. As unlikely as that may have been, Mephston knew his soul harbored dark, powerful, and dangerous things. Things that would tear this galaxy apart if unleashed.

Rising to his feet, the Blood Angel's cold gaze fell outside to the frozen clones. While they had been birthed by xenos, they were of human blood, a warrior culture, and had been bred for war. They were led by often incompetent generals and died in the thousands, yet would never back down even in certain defeat. They were the Imperial Guard of this galaxy. If this group wanted to retake this xeno world to avenge their brothers, did he not have an obligation to aid them? No, but doing so would lead him further down his own path.

Exiting the temple, he unfrozen them with a wave of his hand. The clones staggered and looked around in confusion. Their gaze ultimately fell to the slain Jedi. Commander Trauma retrieved their lightsabers as he turned to face the temple. Seeing the Lord of Death, he raised his blaster, his men following.

"Commander Trauma. Do you wish to avenge your men?" Mephiston's voice held the clones' fire as they looked to one another.

"Did you kill the Jedi?" Trauma demanded as Mephiston nodded. The clones prepared to fire, but with the raise of his hand, Mephiston cast their weapons into the air.

"I did. But you did not answer my question. And further action against me will only lead to your deaths. Do you wish to avenge your fallen brothers?" The hulking figure of Mephiston loomed over the scene as his gaze bore a hole through the helmet of the commander. Reading his thoughts, the Psyker saw the soldier had no love for the xenos, but felt like he was obligated to seek some form of revenge. It was a foolish notion.

"The Jedi would have been slain regardless of my intervention. You and your men owe them nothing. They are the ones who gladly let your brothers die to defend this place." The Librarian's words dug deep into the clones present. Campaign after campaign of watching their fellows die in needless situations was leading to resentment for the Jedi.

"Yes. I want nothing more than to avenge my brothers. We all want that." The commander spoke.

"Follow my instructions and you will have your wish." The clones looked to one another as they began to take the measure of him. They were not found wanting as they surveyed the brutality he left behind.

"How though? There are seven of us and whatever you are versus an entire army. You may have killed the Jedi and….him, but it'll be a slaughter." Trauma argued as he gestured to his few numbers. The Mephiston of a few centuries prior would have sneered and abandoned the men to their fates. But as he had learned multiple times with the Guard, all men needed was hope and faith. And what better way to instil faith than by showing them the wrath of the Emperor's Angels?

"I am the Lord of Death. And you're right in that it will be a slaughter. These machines don't stand a chance."

xxxXXXXxxx

Coruscant, Jedi Temple, 20 BBY

Grandmaster Yoda of the Jedi Order picked himself up off the floor, reeling from what he had felt. The ancient and wise Jedi had been meditating in his private chambers, trying to find the hidden Sith Lord that eluded him. The small green alien had found himself distracted though, thoughts going to all the Jedi that had fallen in the war. Men and Women he had seen grow from small children into adults were dying. The younglings that came through the order now were more focused on how they could help in the war effort than their studies in the Force.

All while their ancient enemy, the Sithhid in the shadows. The Dark Side forged a massive cloud over his, and all other Jedi's, ability to see the future. The Grandmaster constantly sought out ways to rid the Force of this cloud, but whoever pulled the strings was very powerful. It had been in one of these meditation sessions that...something had happened. Yoda did not know if he had succeeded, but for a brief moment there was a beacon in the Force thatt was undeniable.

Rage. Fury. Violence. Death.

All signs of the Dark Side radiated far clearer than anything he had ever experienced across the galaxy. He had been so caught off guard it had knocked him from his seated position. Whatever it was, be it another Sith apprentice or the Sith Lord, it vanished nearly as soon as it came. Calling his walking stick to him, Yoda stood as the door to his chamber flew open.

"Master Yoda! Did you feel it?" A bald dark skinned human clad in the ancient robes of Jedi rushed into the room. It did not surprise Yoda that Master Mace Windu had felt the beacon as well. In fact Yoda doubted that any Jedi could deny what had just happened.

"Felt it, I did. The Dark Side, stronger than we could have imagined." The Grandmaster looked up to the third most powerful Jedi in the order. This was not something they could brush off, war or not.

"Shall I summon the Council? We need to deal with whatever created such a wave of hatred." Mace was widely known through the order for his following of the old ways and stern determination to fight the Dark Side whenever it came.

"Yes. Call the Council we shall. Discuss this disturbance, we must."

Putting out the call, the two Jedi made their ways to the High Council Chamber of the Jedi Temple, both in deep thought. Arriving at the massive circular room, they were unsurprised to see many of the Masters that were still on planet had already arrived. As they took their own seats, those out in the stars appeared as holoprojections. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed as the gathered waited for the Grandmaster to speak first.

"...A disturbance in the force there has been. Felt it, you all have?" Yoda began as the hologram of Master Obi Wan Kenobi shook his head.

"Disturbance is a very light way of putting it. I've been in front of Sith who have given off less anger." Nods came from many of the Masters as a green Nautolan, Kit Fisto, spoke.

"Agreed. It was like the shroud of the Dark Side had fallen for the briefest of moments. Was this the result of our efforts Master Yoda?" The small Master shook his head.

"Cause this, I did not. Why drop their mask now?"

"I don't know. But what I do know is that we have a duty to destroy whoever it is." Master Windu stated with conviction as he received several nods of agreement.

"Whoever? Are we not certain it's the Sith Lord we have been looking for?" Kenobi asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Who else would it be Master Kenobi? We all felt it. It's far more powerful than Dooku could be." The hologram of the Togruta Master Shaak Ti asked her colleague.

"Dooku has cast aside Ventress now. Perhaps he's found a new apprentice?" Kenobi's response served to only add more concern as the prospect of something this powerful under the tutelage of the fallen Jedi was not well received.

"Do we know where it came from? Location wise I mean? It hardly matters who it is if we don't catch them before they disappear again." A Cerean Master named Ki-Adi-Mundi asked as many Masters began to meditate for an answer . Yoda searched his thoughts, recalling what part of the galaxy the disturbance had exploded from. His memory recalled a peaceful place in the Force, hiding the darkness before it echoed out.

"Devaron. The darkness came from Devaron" The Grandmaster remembered as the Council looked towards him.

"Hmm, that's not great. We've just lost that world to the Separatists." Kenobi shook his head at the unfortunate timing.

"There is also the Temple of Eedit on Devaron. Perhaps this disturbance went there and connected with the vergence?" Master Ti guessed as she knew the temple for its healing purposes. It was a great tragedy to lose it to the droids.

"That place is strong in the Light Side of the Force, why would a Sith go there?" Mundi asked aloud.

"Perhaps it sought to destroy the temple." Kenobi offered. Yoda shook his head at the statement as he still felt the temple was there.

"The Temple of Eedit still stands. Merely visit it, this disturbance did." The Masters looked around with questioning expressions.

"We know where our enemy is. I say we strike now before we lose the window of opportunity. If it is indeed the Sith Lord, we can end this war sooner rather than later." Windu was now razor focused on getting to Devaron and ending this threat. Many of his fellow Masters agreed as the Grandmaster gave him a look.

"Be mindful of your hate, Master Windu. But agree with your desire for a swift wars end I do. Liberate Devaron we must." Expression as grim as ever, Windu gave a nod and offered himself for the task.

"I can lead an army to push back the Separatists and find this disturbance. Masters Fisto, Kolar, and Tiin can accompany me. I have no doubts that four Masters of the Order will be sufficient to solve this mystery." Receiving universal nods of agreement from his fellow Jedi, Master Windu excused himself as well as those who would join him.

As the others began to leave or exit the call, Yoda couldn't help but recall something he had felt during the disturbance. It had been so overshadowed by the beacon, that he had nearly missed it. But a presence in the Dark Side was much closer, seemingly also thrown off by the disturbance.

It felt like it was right here on Coruscant, right in the Senate Chambers.

xxxXXXXxxx

Jedi Master Mace Windu had seen many things in his time with the Jedi Order. He had ventured through the galaxy and been a part of both large battles and small quests. He had faced down monstrous beasts on strange worlds and built up a reputation as the Champion of the Jedi. But for all of his experience, he was baffled by what he saw when his liberation fleet dropped out of Hyperspace.

The Separatist fleet, the one he had amassed this army to deal with, was a pile of shattered debris floating in space. Some of the ships were torn apart, like a massive storm had ripped them asunder. But the bulk of the destruction sat where three of the capital class vessels were entangled with each other. It was as if a singularity had pulled them all together and disappeared. As he recovered from his confusion, he extended his senses out, trying to feel for anything.

Windu was pushed back as a wave of hatred washed over him. It blanketed the damage done to the ships like a second skin. But that wasn't the worst part. No, by far the strangest things and most haunting was the thoughts and memories. No less than the memories and emotions of four women were scattered across the space. They all shared several common factors.

All of the women had been trained in some way at the temple on the planet. All of them had been rounded up by the droids, expecting to be killed. All of them had been from execution saved by a squad of clones, a massive figure standing behind them. Then they all had agreed to some sort of ritual that the figure said would destroy the fleet above the planet. A ritual that killed them all and turned their own anger into a storm of energy.

"This is far worse than we realized." He spoke as Master Fisto took his side.

"What makes you say that?"

"This disturbance utilizes old rituals of the Sith. Rituals I had hoped to never encounter." He shook his head at the thought of confronting someone with the knowledge of the Sith Lords of old. Skilled as he may be, even the legends spoke of the power those monsters had wielded. It was a good thing he had taken his go to squad of Jedi Masters. They would be needed.

"Sir! We are receiving a transmission from the planet." His fleet admiral addressed him as he was pointed to the coms station.

"Seperatist?" The grim expression Jedi asked.

"No Sir, one of ours." Mace had a raised eyebrow as he answered the station. He was surprised to see the image of Commander Trauma greeting him. The clone was helmetless as he saluted the Jedi.

"General. You couldn't have better timing. We've taken back the capital with help from local resistance, but the clankers still have most of the major cities." Mace's gaze fell to the commander's side where two lightsabers hung. Noticing this, Trauma unhooked them and held them out.

"Master Halsey and Padawan Knox didn't make it. I'm sorry Sir." The clone sounded sincere as Windu gave a nod. They were one with the Force now, though he was still wondering what had happened.

"We will be arriving at Montellian Serat soon then commander. We have many questions." The clone tilted his head as he now noticed the other Masters standing at Windu's side.

"We?"

"The Council has felt a disturbance in the Force. Something powerful in the Dark Side. I have come with three other Masters to find this disturbance." Windu's gaze narrowed as he saw the commander shift uncomfortably as he spoke. This was not missed by the other Jedi as Master Tiin called it out.

"You know something about this disturbance, don't you?" The clone simply nodded as he straightened his posture.

"It will be much easier to have this conversation in person Generals." The statement made all the Jedi look at one another as Windu gave a nod. Closing the station he placed his hand to chin. A squad of clones had taken the capital after what had been a devastating defeat for the Republic. The two Jedi tasked with guarding the temple were dead. The Seperatist fleet had been destroyed by some sort of dark Sith ritual.

"Things have now gotten much stranger." He said aloud as his friends nodded.

"What kind of Sith Lord helps us retake a planet? Nevermind then destroy the fleet protecting it." Kolar's words mimicked Windu's thoughts as his troopers prepared for landing.

"I don't know. But Commander Trauma has much to explain." He turned to leave the bridge with other Jedi. Making his way to the hangar bay, Windu was certain of something. This was indeed the work of a Sith Lord. But he wasn't sure if it was the Sith Lord they were after. The Rule of Two stated that there could only ever be two Sith, one to have power, the other to crave it. It did not mean though that rivals couldn't exist.

"A rival Sith Lord." A he muttered to himself. Master Fisto seemed to overhear him and gained a grim expression, unfitting of the grin he usually had.

Landing in the city, the Jedi and clones were met with a hail of cheers as Devaronian freedom fighters waved blasters in the air. Pushing their way through the crowd was Commander Trauma with his squad. As the clones stood in front of the four Jedi Masters they saluted.

"Generals. If you would follow me, I can brief you in the Representatives Chamber." Trauma held out the two lightsabers as Windu solemnly took them and nodded. The crowd began to part for them as they made their way through the streets of the city. Passing along one of the alleyways, a sight caught all the Jedi's attention. A mural on a brick wall.

The image was of a battle, the Separatists being destroyed in rays of fire and blasts of lightning from the sky. What was clearly the clones could be seen charging with freedom fighters as they blasted apart battle droids. In the bottom center were four women, all Devaroian's in positions of meditation. As it went up further though, an energy was being drawn from them as it showed their spirits going into the largest and center most figure. A bulky human clad in a crimson red armor that resembled flayed skin. Two massive red feathered wings stretched from his back. His face was ghost white with the eyes being pure dots of black, fangs clearly visible in the mouth. It held aloft a massive sword as energy from the women went through it, turning blood red. The blade shot a beam into the sky, the droid ships shown being torn apart by a massive swirl of energy and purple lightning. A title was written underneath.

'The Martyrs and The Angel'

"That is…..disturbing." Windu couldn't help but agree with Master Kolar's words there was evidence of offerings left at the base of the mural. This Sith seemed to have appeared before these Devaronian as some type of demigod. Windu could see Trauma looking at the art work and shaking his head.

"Where is he." Windu cut to the chase as he couldn't ignore the evidence in front of him. The Sith Lord had aided the clones in retaking the city. He needed to know why and where he was now.

"Left. A day before you arrived." The Masters scowled as they had just missed their target.

"Why did he do this?" The clone gave a shrug and shook his head.

"I couldn't tell you what went through that monster's head. All I know is that it needed a way off planet. It had offered us the chance to avenge our fallen in exchange for help."

"And you trusted it?" Master Tiin's words were accusing and judgmental.

"There were only seven of us left! We were making a last stand at the temple when the droids assaulted it. We all would have been dead if it hadn't interfered. Look, all I know is that it wielded far more power than I've seen any Jedi have. It did that!" Trauma pointed to the sacrifice happening in the mural.

"You saw this and let it happen?" Now Windu's words were hostile as the clone let a dark ritual take place.

"They volunteered! We had liberated the city near the temple with ease, but I pointed out that the fleet would make any attempts at leaving the planet problematic. The locals were practically worshiping him after watching what he did to the droids that held the city. Four of them offered to help him in any way they could if it meant their people would be free. Then he does what you see there. I figured the locals would turn on him, but they saw the fleet in orbit turn to debris and viewed the women as martyrs." The Jedi were now noticing that many of the buildings and blasters had wing iconography on them, seemingly in reverence of the giant.

"Where is he now?" Windu might eventually feel some sympathy for the soldier. The clone probably had no idea that he had been dealing with a Sith Lord, and only wanted to retake the world he had lost. Commander Trauma sighed as he looked to the sky.

"He was rather instant on leaving this planet when we took this city. Everytime he looked at the locals it seemed like he was one word away from cutting them all down. When we did have control, he said that you all were coming and that he had no intention of staying. There was a smuggler among the locals who offered to take him. He initially refused, but ultimately accepted when he saw he wouldn't fit into any of the ship's cockpits."

"You're not answering my question commander." Windu's sympathy was now gone as the clone was stalling him. Ultimately he would have to stay to liberate this planet, but he needed to know where his quarry had gone.

"...Malachor, Sir. They've gone to Malachor."