Trois: Shaak Ti, 'Scout' Tallisibeth, Serra Keto, Petirus Metris, Jocasta Nu

"He's coming," Metris whispered, eyes closed, feeling with the Force for the dark nexus of energy that was swirling through the Temple. "What will we do?" Tallisibeth asked, voice quavering.

Shaak Ti cut her off. "There is no emotion; there is peace," she admonished. Scout sighed and cleared her mind with an effort. "Yes, Master," she mumbled.

Serra Keto scowled and fingered one of her two hilts, eyes flashing dangerously. "Why don't we go and meet him, before he kills more of us?" she snapped. Jocasta Nu nodded. "I won't have a Sith walking in my Archives," the old woman said, giving Keto an agreeing nod.

Metris frowned. "Your thoughts tread dangerously close to hatred, Serra. To defeat the darkness, we must become a brighter light."

"But the brightest light casts the darkest shadow," Nu countered, and suddenly, she was on her feet, saber at her side, stepping toward the door to the Archives, where Darth Vader waited within…

Serra Keto tried to follow, but Metris' desperate hand held her back. Shaak Ti leaped to her feet, "Jocasta, wait!"

Jocasta Nu passed into the Archives, and Shaak Ti was left standing there, knowing what fate awaited the ancient keeper of the Archives.

Jocasta stepped bravely forward, trying to hide the trembling of her fingers. The hostess in her came out and she moved toward the Sith Lord who stood brooding in the midst of the floor. "Good evening, Knight Skywalker. What can I do for you?"

The eyes of Darth Vader peered up from the depths of his hood. Not adjusting his hunched posture – Like a vulture, Jocasta thought – he answered, "Give me access to the Masters' archives. Now."

Jocasta visibly flinched. "You are not a Master, Knight Skywalker. I will not give you that access," she said proudly, and her saber was suddenly in her hand, blade bright and blazing, as she tried to remember her combat days, dropping into a rusty form of Niman.

Darth Vader rolled his eyes and made a contemptuous gesture. Jocasta Nu suddenly felt the Force moving in a horrible way, wrapping itself around her body, gripping her firmly as she suddenly rose into the air, then jerked toward Vader as the Sith Lord's fist – filled with his lightsaber hilt – came to meet her, the blue blade pulsing to lifein her gut.

"I am Darth Vader."

"No!" screamed a child's voice. Vader's head snapped toward the source, and there, standing in the door, was Serra Keto, both blades in her hands, flaring and spitting with the rage the girl felt.

Vader grinned again, a twisted version of Anakin Skywalker's trademark smile. "Padawan Keto," he mocked. "Welcome. I presume you've come to join me?"

Keto cursed and lunged toward Vader, and suddenly, 'Scout' Tallisibeth was with her, tears streaming down the Padawan's face. Vader dropped into a flashy Shien stance, holding his saber in an underhanded grip that kept his lightsaber hilt close by his chin.

Anakin suddenly rose in the confines of Vader's mind, and demanded, Can you really kill these children? You are conflicted.

Vader growled. There is no conflict. I am Darth Vader, and I am doing this to save Padme.

The Padawans attacked, and Vader moved to defend, ducking low, spinning across the floor, foot sweeping out to trip Keto, who was knocked bowling into a shelf. Scout backed away, horrified as Vader lunged like a cat, pouncing on Keto and severing her head with a single stroke. Scout half-turned, and then realized that Shaak Ti and Petirus Metris were in the doorway, running as fast as they could to save the two students. She paused, hesitated, turned back – as Vader's blade claimed her right arm and his knee smashed into her stomach. A quick twist of the Force, and her neck was broken. She fell heavily, unfeeling, staring into Vader's dark eyes, asking him, "Why?"

And then Scout was gone.

Vader turned, strangely unhinged by that single choked gasp from the child: "Why?" There had been no fear, just confusion, hurt, betrayal…

Betrayal…

Involuntarily shuddering, Vader turned to meet the deadly oncoming charge of the two Jedi Masters. They denied me the rank of Master for so long, he thought, a new anger, a new wrong done to him rising in his mind. Now let them see the folly of their ways.

Shaak Ti reached him first, and right behind her was Metris. Their blades hissed blue in against the dull gray of the floor and pillars around them. Vader was in Shien now, throwing whipcrack-like kicks and making death-defying moves that left Metris, at least, stunned and terrified.

Shaak rolled low beneath an overhand sweep. Sliding across the marble, she came to her feet just in time to witness the horrifying scene of Darth Vader suddenly catching Metris by the sword-hand and driving his blade right into the Jedi Master's open mouth. Metris made a single choked scream, and fell.

Vader turned toward her. "Mmm. Perhaps he needed more practice?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

Shaak knew what he meant. The Jedi council had defied what Anakin saw as common sense, passing him over for the Mastery. But that wasn't the answer to this… this rampage. "What happened to you, Anakin?" she asked softly as she began to circle the Sith Lord.

Vader didn't move, didn't speak. His eyes simply followed the woman as she moved around, looking for an opening. Suddenly, she lunged, felt an unexplainable thrill as she lashed her blade toward him. His saber came up to block and he slipped to one side – suddenly, his blade was gone and Shaak Ti's weapon was making an exaggerated follow-through as Anakin pressed his saber hand against her chest, thumb triggering the blade. The female Jedi Master let out a long, horrified shriek of agony as fire cauterized her lungs, flash-burning her heart.

Within Vader's mind, Anakin was screaming as well. Pain. Vader fed on it.

Vader savored the momentThe Dark Side filled him with a tingling rush of heat, and he was standing again on that distant mountaintop, passionate, yet somehow dispassionate, and he again solidified his identity, assuring himself in his newfound power.

I am Darth Vader.