Nothing would grow on Yavin 4 anymore. All plant life was completely decimated. Sentient beings would not dare go near it. The millennia old moon, once filled with life and used as a focal point for the Force, was dead. The charred and cracked surface reflected the mind of its destroyer. Overwhelmed by dark power and insanity, there was no other way.
Exar Kun, for one, wished there had been. With no time to prepare, no energy to draw on, the destruction of his body meant the final release of his spirit. By clinging to Yavin the first time he died, the Dark Lord managed to remain in contact with the physical universe for five thousand years. Now, though, his long overdue departure into the Force had come.
The Dark Side surrounded him, driving him mad. He struggled to remain intact. It reached for him, pulled him. Swirling, tearing, hate, fear, despair.
Because of you, the Sith will never die. The words echoed in his mind. This could not be. All is lost. With one final flash of searing pain, the Dark Side consumed its most wretched spawn.