Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

This next chapter includes a bit of an homage to the Dune films, coming out next month.

Dragon Wars: Odyssey and Revolution

Episode 5: The Sith strike back

System Designation-Thedas

Thom Rainier checked over his renegade interceptor rifle, adjusting the loading lever and the sight. He rested it between his knees and then drew his sword from his back. Like many of the 'local' troops of the Thedas defence force, he still used a bladed weapon and shield. Of course these weapons were far greater than what any smith on their planet could forge with their primitive tools. Thom didn't so much as welcome the empire, more accepted what they could bring to their world. A world where marriage was a contract, where blasphemy was answered with capital punishment and the opinions of the masses were silenced. He thought it would be an end to the days of children hanging dogs on the street. But there were still worse sights to follow. Such as what Thom could see as he looked out of the shuttle window.

Par Vollen was in flames, the military campaign to suppress the rebel Qunari was a success, at least as far as General Veers was concerned. What Thom saw however was a massacre, tropical forests burned, a culture on the verge of extinction. Articles of the Qun were being burned, those whom fled to Par Vollen to seek purpose in that faith instead had neural disruptors strapped to their heads. Whilst the lucky ones, Kossith and elf alike were just executed and left to fall into graves they built. Thom looked away, putting on his helmet and scarf. Indigenous troopers didn't have the best equipment, chest plates, boots and arm guards, but simplistic helmets that didn't have the breather masks and vision enhancers the imperial troops had.

"Approaching drop zone," the pilot's report tore him from his thoughts.

Seconds seemed like hours, he led from the front as always, ready to eliminate the empire's enemies on behalf of his patron. He saw young boys shaking, 'tributes' offered to empire from all walks of life. The children of dukes, of farmers and tinkerers, or casteless dwarves that were deemed good enough to die on the surface. Thom took a deep breath, feeling the shuttle reduce speed, hearing the hiss of the door.

"MOVE!" he yelled as it folded open.

The door was a path they walked down, into the explosions and dust of a battlefield. Thom imagined Par Vollen had probably been beautiful once. He ran through the explosions with his unit beside him, the men he had been given to lead into a battle to find and eliminate the leader of the Qunari's military forces, the Arishok himself. Qunari soldiers threw spears with explosives attached to them, fired stolen rifles and rose up from the sand itself. Thom shot one point blank and hit another before he could shoot at him. The others behind him fell, but the ones behind them caught up and joined Thom in a barrage against a group of Qunari soldiers falling back.

"Captain Rainier, have you found the Arishok?" a voice came through on his radio.

"No Major Kutlass, confirmed Qunari presence in the sector and cave network, moving in to investigate," Thom said.

He used hand signals to coordinate his soldiers, getting them into positions whilst he drew fire. Drawing his sword, he gave the order to fire and the coordinated troopers caught the dazed Qunari troops in a crossfire. Several warriors drew their swords for one last stand, and Thom obliged them. He cut down one horned man first and locked blades with another. Shoving the man back, he parried the lunge of another armoured man. The armour was plastoid, shaped to resemble the classis Thedas design, in this case a Grey Warden. Overcoming his curiosity, Thom beheaded the man and knocked the Qunari man back with a strike and then following up with a slash to the Qunari's throat. In the rush of battle, Thom looked at the corpse of the Grey Warden he had killed and another not too far.

In theory there weren't supposed to be grey wardens at all. They were an obsolete order, imperial scientists found an affective means of 'curing' the blight, the key to the darkspawn blood had never been random or dumb luck, those joining the order had to have the same blood type as the darkspawn whose blood they were drinking. Much like organ transplant apparently, or so Thom had heard. The empire liked to remind the locals of how stupid their beliefs had been, how wrong their 'science' had been. Even the old gods that the grey warden awaited for blights were being extracted by the empire, the chance of a blight eliminated. Their presence indicated far more than what imperial intelligence had been able to determine.

Rainier drew his rifle again, signalling his men to follow. Some of the younger troopers were already dead on the ground, remembrance would be their glory. For a soldier like him it was like the game of Orlais, each assignment was itself a way to gain more power. His unit was trusted to assassinate the Arishok, that had to account for something. They drew closer to a cave when a shot ran out, the blast flew past Rainier and hit the young man behind him in the face.

"AMBUSH!" he called out.

Another trooper beside him was hit by some sort of explosive shot. Qunari came out of their hiding places above the cave, whilst Grey Wardens came out of the sand, having made blankets to hide themselves underneath it. Blasts from bowcasters threw back some of Rainier's troops. He heard a hiss behind him and turned, seeing an axe and sword cleave through two troopers. Rainier looked upon the Arishok, briefing's didn't do his height or the intimidating size of his horns any justice. The military leader was garbed in an energy shield and used an electrified axe and a sword with a plasma blade around it. He easily cut through many of the Orlesian soldiers. Rainier took his shield from his back, just as a explosive bolt slammed into it. He was thrown back, rolling onto his feet as he landed, seeing that one of the Qunari was holding a miniaturised cannon, the fuse on it similar to the other gun shaped weapons some of them had been using. Their projectiles had been launched with their black powder, shards of lyrium or volcanic ore.

"Surrender whilst you still can," one of the Grey Wardens said, a dark haired man with a thick beard.

He brought his sword up to Rainier's chest, and the commander watched his men fighting on. Two had managed to grab hold of the Arishok, whilst another group were exchanging blaster fire. Rainier threw his damaged shield at the warden, blocking his view for a moment before he drew his sword.

"Major Kutlass, we've found the Arishok," Rainier said.

He locked blades with the warden, parrying and then hitting his face with the hilt.

"We've got him pinned, send reinforcements to our location," Rainier said, knowing their armour had transponders in them.

"Sure Rainier, sure," the major chuckled.

Thom shoved the warden back, managing to make the man pause when he pointed his sword underneath his chin.

"You've killed us all," the warden said.

"Quiet rebel, surrender now and I will try to convince the major to be merciful," Rainier said.

"There is no mercy with the empire," the warden smiled.

The Arishok broke free, cutting apart the men holding in a display of blood and guts. He snarled, ready to face more when he heard a whistling sound in the air. The Arishok looked up and huffed before an explosive slammed into the ground. He was ripped apart by the explosion, but the mortar fire didn't end there. It kept on going, hitting the cave and blocking the rebel escape route, ripping through rebel and imperial trooper alike. Thom watched in horror as his men were burned and crushed by the mortar fire.

"MAJOR HOLD FIRE! THE ARISHOK IS DEAD!" Rainier yelled.

"He knows," the Warden said.

"He just doesn't care," he added, before an explosion threw him and Rainier off of the hill.

"Governor Tarkin, I should've expected to find you holding..."

"What is this?" Tarkin asked.

He and the emperor were in some kind of observation room. There were others there who could not see them, an officer in a grey uniform who Tarkin could see had an eerie resemblance to himself, a woman in white and a man in some kind of black armour, the sounds of his breathing helmet hauntingly echoing around them.

"...before your execution, I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station..."

"This Tarkin is possibility, a great power in itself," the emperor cryptically said.

He was in simplistic black clothing and when he turned Tarkin saw a young face looking back at him.

"You were mining lyrium on Thedas as part of your efforts to create a laser, capable of devastating levels of power," he said.

"Though you have proven without doubt my emperor that your power is great, the imperial military still needs weapons, we need to innovate in order to dominate these worlds and bring order," Tarkin explained.

"Or is it chaos?" the emperor asked.

"Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."

"No! Alderaan is peaceful, we have no weapons you can't possibly..."

"A threat, both those whom she loves no doubt, and the possibility of innocent blood being spilt, that alone is something someone of that character cannot bear," the emperor said.

"It is a weak and counterproductive mind set, the strong survive, my project is part of that philosophy, like beasts in the wild a hierarchy must be maintained, the prey will never attempt to oppose their natural predators," Tarkin explained.

"A flawed comparison, because no prey accepts death gracefully, they fight with everything they are because they know the only option is death. So when you create a weapon capable of obliterating an entire planet, what do you think people will do?" the emperor asked.

"You are far too trusting, Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration, but don't worry. We will deal with your rebel friends soon enough."

"You know what, simply watching from a view screen doesn't quite do it justice, why don't we watch from down there?" the emperor asked and Tarkin looked at him in confusion.

There was no snap, no wave of the hand, no gradual change. One moment they had been in the dank and suffocating room, and the next they were on a beautiful planet, surrounded by nature that had blended perfectly with the majestic cities. People were playing, happy, and then the sky darkened. A great beam of emerald light struck the ground, which began to shake. They screamed, a sound that Tarkin tried to match, but he suddenly found he had no voice. The ground began to rise, the inside of the planet imploding. Tarkin felt his flesh slowly burn in fire, his bones disintegrated within seconds and then...

He screamed, on his hands and knees on rock and dirt.

"Millions of voices crying out in terror and then silence, but not really, because then you get millions more saying 'look, they destroyed a planet, how evil of them', of course you'll still have the gullible trying to come up with justification and justification, the great weapon is a symbol of fear and fear alone only invites rebellion and absolute death only invites martyrdom," the emperor explained.

This time he was in his Sith robes, his arms behind his back looking out at a space that consisted of green colours and yellow gasses. It was not a planet but a type of space, where instead of stars there were wisps of shining green energy.

"Everything I saw was that..."

"The potential of your bloodline, I wonder if that potential is outlasting its usefulness," the emperor turned and Tarkin fell back, shuffling away as he sat the emperor's red and yellow eyes burning.

"If it is your command then I will stop all research into the super lasers, this destructive power will never become a reality," Tarkin stated.

"It has already been a reality, you just saw that it was a reality," the emperor seethed.

"I don't understand..." Tarkin shook his head, going onto his knees, looking up at his emperor. "What are you asking of me? What are you asking of me? Have I not served this empire well, I don't understand what that was just now."

"Tell me what it was, if you have even the faintest inkling of what true power is then tell me what it was!" the emperor waited and waited, yellow lightning flashing across the sky behind him, the wisps shaping themselves into monsters.

Horned women with purple skin and fiery hair, worm like creatures that burned, one eyes creatures with leather skin, white skinned bodies that continually shifted and twisted and great giants with purple spiked scales were just some of the creatures floating around Tarkin, surrounding him.

Slowly they enveloped him too.

Nyashquwai

Daylen shifted uncomfortably in the armour he had been given. It was a simple breastplate, silver with two symbols etched into it, a gold griffin and black batlike creature. The armour and the small gold gauntlet they gave him was a loan from his point of view. From that same point of view he had yet to earn any of what they gave him, even the fur boots were a kindness and not repayment for the lives he had saved. Lives were priceless, so he still owed them. They heard the Sith/Revanchist troopers before they saw them, the hum of the hover pads on their tanks, the whirl of their speeder bikes. But the beasts, the Xenomorphs, they weren't yet hissing. And Daylen could tell that any snap of a twig was a Xenomorph in the eyes of the terrified defenders.

"A little fear is good, it keeps you alive and I should know, I was pretty damn fearless," Daylen rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Kinnon, a mage older than him, a good worker and honest. He sadly couldn't remember how he died.

"You really don't remember?" the blue ghost asked his eyebrows raised in an offended expression.

"Up in the clouds, they're coming," Shasot said.

Daylen put his hand to his chest, taking a deep breath.

"You're afraid, good, that means you learnt Irving's lessons well, caution and overcoming that fear to act rationally is the key to being a mage of the circle, you had your rough spots but you were an excellent example for us to follow," Kinnon said.

He shifted, huffing and puffing and punching the side of his head. Even looking up at the sky he could do nothing, nothing that he wanted to do. He imagined the power within him taking shape, the great rage he felt being focused to form a storm. But no storm came, no matter how much he wanted to create that perfect storm to blanket the battlefield, no lightning, no fire or ice, the only reason the ground shook was because of the weapons the troopers had with them.

"What is wrong?" Taral asked.

"Focusing that's all, I'm just focusing, here they come," Daylen said, looking at the path ahead.

They came over the hill, increasing their marching and drive speed. Kusk launched a flare from her slingshot, further down the field, four hunters came out of their hiding places, cutting the wires of their traps. Those wires were attached to trees that had had their grand branches pulled back so tightly that the whiplash caved in the chests and shattered the helmets of those troopers marching towards them. The first hunter threw the torch he was holding at a line of oil, which lit and ignited a portion of the ground that several troopers were marching on. Flames and smoke formed an effective screen to hide the hunters. The second two ran through the underground tunnels they had made, as shelter for the winter seasons and to hide in when they were hunting. Pulling open the trap doors, they lit the fuses on the bombs they held and threw them. Grease on cloth attached to the bombs acted as an adhesive, allowing the explosives to stick to one of the three tanks.

There was no great cheer as the first of the tanks exploded. The hunters had done their work and the troopers were wise to it, they had to get out of the net of traps they were walking through. Their quarry was familiar with the paths, light armoured too, it was easy for some of the troopers to get caught in bogs that seemed to at first be just deceptively shallow puddles. The fourth hunter lit an old rescue flare and put it into the smoke where several troopers resided. At the camp, the tribe defenders adjusted the three catapults they had, accounting for where their opponents would be before they launched the boulders they had carried, boulders coated with fire. Troopers were crushed and burned, it was just the first salvo to slow them down. One tank got hit, but it was still going towards the village.

"OPEN FIRE!" the commander, an Iridonian in his people's yellow armour yelled.

Just before the damaged tank could fire though, a volley of blaster fire came from the sky. Two Sith starfighters came out of hiding, old aircraft from the Great Hyperspace war, rusty green shaped like snail shells with fin like wings. They fired their triple blaster cannons, pelting the ground, destroying the damaged tank.

'Two fighters,' the Iridonian scoffed.

Their own Starfighters, star forged and upgraded followed, a formation of twelve that easily blasted down the two. Shock and excitement though filled the battle hungry mercenary when he saw more Sith fighters, four that quickly destroyed two of their own. One particular fighter moved on to shoot down a third ship and broke off from the formation to hit a fourth.

"Another, one more," Cid encouraged himself.

He felt the chaser behind him, adjusting the speed of his own aircraft, then pulling back. His fighter at first seemed to bank to the pursuing pilot, then it swerved over it. The Revanchist widened his eyes beneath his visor before he was blown up with his fighter in a flurry of blaster fire. Infidus watched the feat with the camp binoculars, astonished, hopeful, but quickly betrayed, as he realised that the man he hired was a far better pilot than he initially believed. On the field, the hunters continued their sabotage of the enemy forces. The first hunter prepared one of his bombs, but a large hand suddenly reached through the trap door, grabbing him by his neck. The Hunter had never seen a Dowutin before, and for a moment he thought he was looking at some yellow skinned monster with tusks on its chin. But the Dowutin was in silver, red and beige battle armour, with brown utility pouches on his belly and a chain gun on his back. He sadistically threw the hunter across the floor, whilst the second hunter brought up his blaster before something pounced on top of him.

"Sadistic," Shasot snarled, looking at the Dowutin kick and draw out killing the hunter.

One of the defenders looked into the tunnel, hearing the patter of feet, waiting for one of the hunters to return. But then the patter stopped and the defender waited, about to bring his head closer. Suddenly, dark hands spread out, revealing the skull like face of a Xenomorph primed to pounce. But then, flames slammed into the creature. Daylen let out a stream of fire from his hand, jumping into the tunnel and burning the creature until it ran off screaming.

"Collapse the tunnels," he said.

"Friends still out there," one of the Sith said in broken basic.

"The creatures will use the tunnels to get here," Daylen said.

Taral said a few words in his language. The other defenders grimaced, and then with defeat in their movements, they began to light bombs. The Dowutin had finally crushed the head of the hunter he had caught, just as the two remaining saboteurs found only collapsed tunnels waiting for them. Both nodded to one another, hearing the hisses of the Xenomorphs hiding in the dark.

They lit the fuses on their bombs and ran into the darkness.

The Iridonian commander never got to fight his enemy up close. As the brave hunters beneath him blew the assortment of bombs they had in their bags, ripping open the ground and tipping the tank onto its side. The mercenary's head impacted the ground with enough force to shatter his helmet and break his skull.

"Two way split," the Dowutin called out to his fellow merc across the field, a Khaleesh in Bronzium light battle armour, armed with a shock staff on his back and a blaster rifle.

"We had no choice, but they made their sacrifice worth it," Taral said to Daylen.

'That's still six of ours less, not even close to how many soldiers they really have,' the mage thought.

Perrin stood in what he at first thought was the fade. But despite how empty it seemed, there was a greater order to it than the brief moment he had spent in the fade. He walked on the path drawn by white chalk and into the circular windows.

In one he saw a grey warden joining, a young mage was being brought into the order. The Warden-commander had just killed a knight that had gotten cold feet. But the mage, he still drank the blood, his eyes going white as he truly joined the order.

When Perrin walked to the next one, he saw that same mage in silver armour, fighting an Archdemon. More windows followed and Perrin saw many other things, a woman who looked like Leandra Amell fighting the Arishok, Meredith screaming as she was turned into raw lyrium (a satisfying sight to him), an elven woman closing some kind of breach with a mark on her hand and a bald elf standing ominously over a woman's petrified body, his eyes glowing blue almost as if he could see Perrin.

There was no modern technology in any of these windows. No ships, no blasters and certainly no lightsabers. Another path appeared and Perrin walked down it until he saw the emperor and Plagueis standing in front of another window. He was able to catch a glimpse of what they were seeing, two human men engaged in a duel, before the spirit of a Sith hybrid in a horned helmet appeared and branded them both on their foreheads.

"By your free choice, both of you have become part of the grand design. In my time even as the galactic republic battles us to extinction, we now secure the future, when the Sith will take their revenge."

The image of the two men linking their hands together brought back a memory for Perrin. As if responding to those thoughts, the window shimmered. Plagueis turned to Perrin in anger, which calmed when the emperor raised his hand, wanting to see the scene play out. He was in the Amell branch estate, Fausten Amell, a strong dark haired man in a simple brown robe and trousers sat with Perrin whilst Fausten's elven servant Stork poured them tea.

"Are you not concerned about them at all?" Fausten asked.

"The Sith bring with them a great many things, can you honestly say that if your children were to get sick you would trust the old ways more than Sith medical technology?" Perrin retorted.

"A heavy cost that a serf wouldn't be able to afford, I will not be content with just my own having access, as for the rest of their education of our world...people don't like being told that what they have believed for centuries is wrong. The Dalish have been stubborn at the best of times, even the Tevinter Magisters will find it difficult to accept that the end of Arlathan was orchestrated by an civil conflict amongst the elves and not their ancestor's rise," Fausten explained.

"Why should we care if they can't accept their past, what matters is our future," Perrin said.

"Would you prefer your grandchildren to be cruel or kind?" Fausten asked.

Perrin wasn't sure what he would have said. Because before he could even think of a retort he looked over Fausten's shoulder and saw Fausten's daughter. She was with Perrin's own son, holding a baby, the child had a Rivaini tan of skin if a bit lighter and a small head of brown hair. Perrin looked at Daylenius's own head of brown hair and his own natural tan and thought for a moment. No one knew the truth behind the boy Revka had, a bastard, an abandoned child she had taken in from the streets?

"He has a strong grip," Daylenius said.

"We call him Daylen," Revka said and the Thrennhold heir looked at her for a moment.

There was once a time when Perrin's son wore his heart on his sleeve. But in time he buried it, and became as Fausten would have seen, cruel.

"So tell me man of Thedas, what do you think this place is?" the emperor asked.

"Time, the past, present and future all at once, everything that could be and what was," Perrin said poetically, daring to step closer to the Sith lords.

The emperor smiled whilst Plagueis huffed.

"Go on!"

"But time itself has changed hasn't it, the moment that the Sith arrived on my world, the possibility of Fausten Amell's grandchild or anyone else becoming a Grey warden to stop the blight was gone, the possibility of Aristide Amell's grandchild becoming champion of Kirkwall and opposing the Templars was gone, even the possibility of a great breach in the fade and the Inquisition returning disappeared," Perrin explained.

"Ah but it is not that simple you see, there is far more to this other world than you can imagine," the emperor said.

"Someone changed it didn't they?" Perrin asked and Plagueis widened his eyes as the emperor chuckled.

"I stand corrected, someone did not simply change it, they broke it, everything in our past is secure, but our present and our future is unpredictable, concepts, forces and people who should not exist in our era now do, and it was all the fault of one man, a man whom now bears the identity of Sith Lord and time lord, he who is my next great rival..."

"...he who they call Darth Kronos!"

The ship came out of hyperspace, the Century-Saviour, the culmination of generations of technology. It was less like a dreadnought and more like a space station in its size, akin to the star forge and just as effective in its ability to produce and deploy weapons. Within seconds of it coming out of hyperspace, it began to launch Momento-Destroyer's, red and black variants of a different era's Star Destroyer. These ships went out into the hyperspace lanes, across known and unknown parts of the galaxy. But the Century Saviour was focused on one world, a world of green and blue, where regal cities had been built on the surface whilst majestic metropolis's endured in the waters.

Atop his throne sat a dark lord, looking over an old watch, no holograms just gears and dials. He closed it and looked to the holographic projection of the planet. Stepping away from his throne, he revealed himself to the gathered acolytes. He wore red greaves and gauntlets, black armour over a fur vest and a red helmet with a visor covering his eyes.

"Commence the attack," he commanded.

Ganthel

The outback of the planet were occupied by night-beetles, large colonies were knocked out of their dens by the shaking ground. Turbo laser blasts slammed into the industrial mining cities with so much force that creatures in the outback could feel it. Pyramid shapes slammed onto the city streets, the hatches opening to reveal troopers in black armour. They began to round up citizens, ready to make examples as their master had dictated.

Arkanis

Sith fighters engaged the unknown fleet's own starfighters, intercepting bombers trying to reach the planet. Unlike Ganthel, Arkanis had two Star forged ships protecting it. One of these ships shook as a missile struck it, deploying a boarding team into the corridors. The black armoured troopers blasted their way through some of the crew members, expecting the silver armoured soldiers to defend the ship. One of the doors opened behind them, revealing a man in black robes and a hood. He ignited a red lightsaber, then ran down the hallway. The dark Jedi deflected the blaster fire unleashed by the boarding team. He reached out with his hand, pulling one trooper and using him as a shield. Even though the trooper was shot by his own allies, the dark Jedi slammed him twice into the ceiling and floor before throwing him into the other troopers. Two troopers had their blasters pulled out of their hands, the rifles turned and shot their former wielders. The remaining troopers backed away in terror, facing blaster fire and having their own reduced to mere annoyances that the lightsaber wielder batted aside.

One trooper managed to get the door open behind them. He was about to run through and escape when he met a tall, furry individual standing in front of him. At first glance it appeared to be a Wookie, light brown furred with some silver highlights. The Wookie however had his jaw replaced with a metallic one. He had a red sword with a green handle on his back, as well as a bowcaster. But the most haunting aspect of his appearance was that he had heavy cybernetics across his face, the fur on the sides of his head had been completely shaved off to make room for blinking implants fused to his skin. The Wookie suddenly grabbed the trooper and ripped his arms off in a spray of blood and a chorus of screams. Something moved through the surviving ranks, slicing through them with a blue Vibro-blade. The armour of the attacked shimmered.

She too had cybernetic implants, she had been a Twi'lek but had her left lekku completely severed for a cerebral implant. She was adorned in black armour, Sith tattoos over her exposed blue arm, a mask with a narrow slit as a visor covered her face. The stealth operative sheathed her sword as the dark Jedi walked towards her. He pulled off his hood, revealing a brown haired man with a frown set upon his handsome face.

"This is Dustil, boarders have been eliminated on this level, I will report to my fighter with operative Milano, operative Zeta will continue to patrol the corridors and eliminate boarders, send a detachment of troopers to assist," the son of Carth Onasi said.

Underneath his robe, he had a Sith uniform with officer bars. Deactivating his saber, he walked with the Twi'lek operative Milano, who stopped for a moment to look at the Wookie. He didn't howl or make any noise, he just waited for his support.

Dune system-Imperial sector 01/03/24

Sand, lots of sand, there didn't seem to be even a trace of water on the dump he had been sent to. He walked across that sand, smelling the only thing of value on the planet. The fat imperial duke had given him this mission, to protect their investment, to put down potential rebels. It was his sick and gleeful joke as he told him.

"Spice, that's what you're protecting, not the hallucinogen kind, the cooking kind," that smirk, that laugh when he left.

He was the child of a primitive world, a child of Thedas. Offered as tribute to the empire, he was taken in by the Sith and trained in their ways. Now he was an acolyte, an enforcer of the emperor's will, a Sith warrior. He walked across the sand, his cloak flapping behind him, light armoured boots crunching against the grains and his great sword resting on his shoulder. A token force of two hundred men had been given to him, undesirables from across the empire. All of them dead, to the locals impressive ambush tactics, to the great wild worms that swam within the sand.

The corpse of one such creature lay behind him, a warning to the wildlife that there was a new predator on the planet. His armour was that of the Sith recluse, but the sword was based on a design from his home world. A dragon slaying blade that killed a worm, part of him wondered if the dragon of his world would have had an advantage. He had been sent here by the imperial duke to die.

His Sith master Bariss however, sent him here to train.

"Prove yourself worthy of the name Sith, and return to me after you have destroyed the emperor's enemies, then you will be worthy of the name Darth Canus!"

The Sith warrior stopped, tightening his grip on his sword. Suddenly, four people burst out of the sand, locals, armoured and cloaked for stealth, their knives at the ready. Then just as suddenly, Canus swung his sword, cutting his ambushers to pieces with a single stroke.

"You're all in my way," he said, voice concealed by the distorter in his mask.

The sun reflected off of his sword as he looked towards the great fortress of the mountains. Some of the locals had said, better their Sith warriors than their fleet.

He was about to show them how wrong they were.

Next Episode 6: Arrival of the Jedi

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, Canus is the Old republic Sith Warrior, as well as potentially a character from Thedas.

Kronos is based on an abandoned Darth Krayt design from an abandoned Darth Maul game, the idea of Kronos and the World between worlds being the addition of Disney's time travel to the Star Wars lore, with me using it as a canon explanation for the existence of this mixed timeline universe.