In a training room on Korriban, the Sith younglings were training in lightsaber combat. Their instructor was a former Jedi who had fallen to the Dark Side and joined Lord Sidious' New Order shortly after it had been founded. As the Sith Warrior instructed her charges, she watched them carefully for any sign of weakness or any hesitation to strike their foe. The younglings in this class were all between ten and thirteen standard years old and were ready to be chosen to train individually with a Sith. The training arrangement was very similar to the Jedi's Master/Padawan relationship. In fact, she had her eye on one of the younger boys in the class.
The boy had been brought to Korriban four years ago and had progressed rapidly in that time. He was aggressive, fearless and could be cruel when he needed to be. Not to mention he was extraordinarily powerful in the Force. She watched him utterly dominate another youngling with the red training lightsaber he wielded. His style was curious. He favored Form V, but included elements of Juyo in it to reduce Djem So's stiffness and add a layer of unpredictability to his strikes and movements. Given time, he could be Skywalker's equal in the form.
Deciding to push the boy, she paused the class and ordered three of the older boys to team up and attack him. She saw the quick flash of fear cross the boy's face before quickly being transformed to anger and hate. Good. Let his hate make him strong and break him free of his chains. The boy she was watching met his foes without a trace of fear on his face, his lips were pulled back in a snarl, his eyes were narrowed in concentration. Though only a child, he swung his lightsaber with power and speed, his own strength was being augmented by the Force. He used his smaller size to his advantage, ducking under strikes that would have cut an adult in two. She watched as he slid underneath one of the boys she had set on him and viciously swung his blade up between the boy's legs. That blow would have eviscerated his opponent had his weapon been a full strength blade. As it was, it would leave a painful welt behind and take one of the three youths out of the fight.
As the boy continued his duel, he blocked one blade while twisting out of the way of the second. His red lightsaber was flashing quickly, blocking, parrying, striking out with an almost reckless abandon. With a yelp from the second boy, a lightsaber clattered to the ground. The Acolyte she was watching had neatly locked his opponents sword arm and twisted his own blade quickly and sent a shock into his enemy's wrist, causing him to drop his lightsaber and clutch at the welt now rising on his wrist. He was lucky, in a real duel his hand would be on the floor along with his lightsaber.
Now the real duel was on. His last opponent was a smart one. He let his two "allies" do most of the fighting while he sat back and struck only occasionally. He let the youngling tire himself out fighting off his two less skilled "friends." The older boy now let loose a flurry blows, his use of Form II nearly flawless. The Warrior could see the child was hard pressed to fend off the older boy. He was giving ground steadily, for to stand in one place was to lose, to die in a real fight. It was when she felt a sudden tug in the Force that she realized what the boy was doing. She started to grin, feeling the young Acolyte gathering the Force to himself, knowing what was coming. With a piercing scream, the child flung his closed fist forward, the Force exploding from him in a tightly focused wave, slamming the older boy squarely in the chest, throwing him back off his feet before quickly wrapping around him and causing him to hurtle forward. Where he was met by the boy's lightsaber striking his chest directly above his heart, ending the duel. This boy had a definite future fighting the Jedi.
Lifting her own hand, she gestured with the Force pushing his defeated opponents away from him. They had lost shamefully to a ten year old. A ten year old that they outnumbered three-to-one. Though a medic was present to treat any life threatening injuries, she ordered him not to treat the boys. Let the pain be a lesson and a reminder to them of the cost of failure. And if the pain and shame of defeat caused them to develop a hatred of the boy who had beaten them, so much the better. That hatred could fuel their rage and drive them to glory.
Walking through the class, who had all been instructed to stand down, she approached the boy she had picked out. He quickly clipped his lightsaber to his belt and bowed his head. With a quirk of her mouth, she realized that she had yet to even learn his name. Well, that was about to change. If she wanted him to train, she would have to move quickly. After today, any Instructor here at the Academy without an Acolyte of their own would be salivating at the prospect of training this young man. Well, they would just have to get over their disappointment. This young one was hers.
"Acolyte," she said to him. "What is your name?"
"Kyle Katarn, Master," he said to her.
"Acolyte Katarn, you have impressed me with your skills with a lightsaber. If you ever wish to become a Sith Warrior, I suggest you continue to do so. Pledge yourself to me and our Emperor now and you shall truly begin your journey to becoming a Sith."
Dropping to one knee, Kyle said, "I pledge myself to your teachings and to our Emperor, Darth Sidious, my Master."
"Rise, Apprentice Katarn. Return to your dormitory, collect your belongings and bring them to my room. Your training will now begin in earnest."
With that, Sith Warrior Barris Offee handed her new apprentice a Sith Amulet that would grant him access to the Warrior's wing of the Sith Temple and sent him on his way. Turning back to the rest of the class, she ordered them to resume their training and then took her place at the head of the class.
Two lightsabers clashed against each other. One blue, one red. Around them raged a battle. Blue, white, red and green blaster fire was lancing back and forth. Portable turbolasers and mass driver cannon were firing their powerful charges at the opposing forces. At the head of each army were several Jedi and Sith. Above them, two fleets clashed. Each was led by an Imperial class Star Destroyer. One side was supported by Venator class ships, the other by ships of the Victory class. One fleet was bone white, the other had a bold red stripe running down the center of the ships.
To the armies that clashed on the planet, the fleet action above them meant little. Their focus was on the here and now. On surviving the next breath, the next shot, the next step. The war on the planet's surface was the first true fight to liberate a planet from the Empire's grasp. And no planet deserved it more than Kashyyyk. The Wookies had suffered for the last six years, being hunted and enslaved by the Empire. The resistance movement led by Tarfful and Chewbacca had rescued thousands of Wookies from slavers, but they lacked the heavy firepower to throw the Empire off their planet. That had now changed.
Jedi Master Shaak Ti was leading the Army on the ground and in the Wroshyr Trees. The Sith she was fighting was strong, both physically and in the Force. But he was raw, no match for an experienced Jedi Master. With practiced ease, she slipped inside his guard and buried her lightsaber in his chest up to it's hilt. She hated having to take life from anyone, even from a Sith, but being in the middle of a battle left her with little choice in the matter. Pulling her lightsaber from the corpse of the Sith, she continued moving forward with her soldiers, the cries and roars of the wookies, humans, twi'leks and a dozen other species all mixed together as they fought to push the Empire off this world.
Above Kashyyyk, Admiral Sykes was leading his first true fleet action in years. Around him were a dozen Venator class Star Destroyers. They had all disgorged their massive compliments of star fighters. A handful of Eta-2s flown by Jedi, dozens of Z-95 Headhunters and ARC-170s, all followed by hundreds and hundreds of V-19 Torrents and Y-Wing strike bombers.
As his ships traded fire with the Imperials, he calmly walked the bridge of the Emancipator, monitoring the status of the fleet around him. Several of his ships were reporting damage, but already he could see two of the Victory class ships opposing him were all but destroyed with huge holes blown in their hulls, venting atmosphere and debris into space. Their engines were dark and the ships were slowly falling out of orbit. He hoped that the rest of the Imperial fleet would either flee or surrender soon so he could use his ship's tractor beams to keep the wrecked destroyers from falling to the surface of the planet below them. The wookies had suffered enough. The last thing they needed was a Star Destroyer falling on them.
As his ship continued to trade fire with the ISD opposite him, he saw one of his ships simply cease to exist. A perfectly placed shot from a turbolaser penetrated the shields and armor surrounding the reactor and the hypermatter contained within vaporized the entire ship in the blink of an eye. The massive explosion triggered a lull in the battle, as both sides were awed by the sheer violence of the blast. Shaking himself off, Admiral Sykes ordered his men to continue the fight. They would mourn their lost comrades later. But for now, they had a battle to win.