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Before - Legends Planet Of The Kings (AU, Pre-Republic, Complete)

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by Jedsithor, Mar 10, 2014.

  1. Jedsithor

    Jedsithor Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Oct 1, 2005
    It's been a long time since I've written anything Star Wars-related. This is a quick short story based on an idea I've had for a while.

    Title: Planet Of The Kings
    Period: Pre-Republic
    Universe: AU
    Summary: Drawn by the Force, a Jedi Bendu and his three companions set out from Tython to a world torn apart by never-ending war, in the hopes of ending the conflict and inspiring peace and unity across a divided galaxy.

    Notes: Names of Jedi pronounced as written. Names of aliens pronounced with last letter being silent.
    Disclaimer: Star Wars and all related properties are owned by Disney. I'm just playing with toys.


    A thick veil of stars replaced the cold blue glow of hyperspace as the rickety spaceship made its way towards the uncharted system on the edge of known space. It had been three months since the ship and its crew had set out from Tython. Eighty-six carefully plotted jumps had been required to make the journey, with the four crew-members rotating in and out of stasis. Now, all six were awake, anticipating the final leg of their long voyage as the computer made the calculations necessary to position the ship for atmospheric descent. The Force had brought them to this world. Visions of a great civilisation, slowly bringing itself to extinction through perpetual warfare haunted their dreams as they slept. It was a world in dire need of their help.

    "Any signs of life?" their leader, Draze, asked as he strapped himself into his seat. He was human, like the rest of his crew, his simple clothing serving to hide a physique of great strength, the hood raised over his head to disguise the power and wisdom behind his eyes.

    "Plenty," his companion, Cana replied as she studied her instruments from the pilot's seat. "There's an unusually large concentration on the southern continent by the equator."

    "Why is that unusual?" Daron, a young male with an inquisitive mind asked.

    "According to my readings, that area is a desert," answered Cana.

    "The whole planet is a desert," a voice belonging to Rax, the oldest in the group, commented. "How many people?"

    "There are two groups," responded Cana. "Each a million strong. According to the readings, it isn't just a desert, it's a nuclear wasteland. The radiation levels are off the charts. The groups appear to be converging."

    "It's a battle," Draze reasoned as he studied the readings for himself. "This is why we're here. Cana, prepare to bring the ship in. I want you to land right between them."

    "If the ship doesn't burn up on entry." Daron muttered as he clicked his safety belt into place.

    "She'll hold together," Cana assured him, mustering up all the confidence she could as the ship rattled around her.

    "Today, we send a message to all nations. The land and the sky belong to us and no other. We shall turn our enemies to ash and take what is ours!" His words felt hollow in his heart. He had made similar speeches every single day for the past seventeen years, ever since he inherited the throne from his father. Now, King Aethr longed for an end to the bloodshed, as did his troops. But there would be no peace. Not until the other kings surrendered to his will. Where once there were twelve kings, now there were eight. Where once there were billions of people, now there were millions, all born and raised with one goal implanted in their conscious minds - kill the enemy. As the years passed, Aethr had begun to believe that the war would only end when every soul was devoured by death, when the nuclear wasteland that was once a great and united civilisation, became a tomb for all peoples of the world.

    He watched from his podium as one million brave warriors marched onto the battlefield. Through his scopes, he could see his rival, King Krovl sending his own troops out to meet them. Long gone were the days of drones and long range missiles. The nuclear weapons that had ravaged the planet had all been used up. The nuclear war should have killed everyone. Aethr often wondered if it would have been better if it had. As a child, his father would tell him stories of the flying machines that once did battle among the clouds and of armoured vehicles that rolled all in their path. Great factories once supplied the great armies of the world with weapons of great power. Now, all sides were reduced to rifles and bullets. After every battle, survivors would pull bullets from fallen comrades to be melted down and reformed to be used again.

    King Aethr and King Krovl watched from opposite ends of the battlefield as their armies marched towards each other. It was more than just a war of attrition. Taking territory wasn't as important as taking lives. As long as a single rival soldier remained alive, they would be a threat. Soon, the marching gave way to a steady run. Soldiers on both sides eyed up their targets. Each rifle had just one round in the barrel. A quick reload would be vital for any chance of survival. No orders needed to be given, They all knew what to do. The front line soldiers on both sides dropped to their knees and lined up their shots. A gentle squeeze of the trigger would be all that was needed before a flurry of bullets penetrated both sides of the battlefield.

    Then it came. The crack of thunder. A fireball falling from the sky. Aethr watched as it fell towards the ground. Had King Brold found a nuke? Or perhaps it was King Castal. Either way, both armies would be destroyed in an instant. But that didn't happen. As the fireball began to fade, the clear shape of some kind of aerial craft appeared. It was of no design that either Aethr or Krovl recognised. The kings could only watch as the unknown vessel slowed rapidly before landing softly in the irradiated dirt between both armies.
    Daron glanced out through the starboard viewing port at the sea of alien faces. "Two million people, two million guns. Are you sure about this, boss?"

    "Relax, Daron," said Draze, his voice calm. "Remember why we've come here. These people need our help."

    "Yeah, don't worry," Cana added. "Two million guns is irrelevant. It only takes one to kill you."

    "Now I feel much better," Daron responded, noting the smirk on Cana's face.

    "Lower the ramp," Draze ordered. "We go out slowly and unarmed. Try not to make any sudden movements."

    "You're sure we shouldn't be wearing radiation suits?" Cana asked Rax.

    "Of course we should and if we had any, I'd have mine on already," replied Rax. "But we don't so you'll all have to rely on the Force. The natives don't appear to be affected by it. Perhaps we can figure out why."

    "First, we have to make contact," noted Daron and he checked his sidearm.

    Noticing the gun in his comrade's hands, Draze indicated for him to put it down. He wanted to make a good impression with the locals and brandishing firearms didn't seem like a good way to do that. "No weapons. Stow them on the ship."

    "And if they attack?" asked Rax, giving voice to the question on all their minds.

    "Use the Force. But only keep them from striking. No injuries and certainly, no deaths."

    The crew glanced at Draze as he spoke. None of them had ever considered using the Force to kill. Believing that the Force was a manifestation of life and of nature, they weren't sure it could even be used in such a way. As the landing ramp touched the ground and the crew made their way out of the ship, nobody knew what to expect. The strange aliens who, moments ago, had been engaged in a fierce and bloody battle, now stood, mouths agape as the alien visitors to their world.

    "Greetings," said Draze with a smile. Knowing nothing of the culture he was encountering, he didn't know whether a smile would be a welcoming gesture or not, he could only rely on his own natural inclinations. "My name is Draze Argol, I am a representative of..." Even before he stopped speaking, he could sense the shot coming. Through his mind's eye, he could see the alien soldier squeezing the trigger on his rifle. He moved a few moments before the bullet flew through the barrel of the rifle and into the open air. A slight shift to his right gave the bullet a clean path to the horizon, far from its target.

    Naytl was just a common solder in King Krovl's army. He had spend his entire life preparing to fight in the war. He had dreams of joining the King's Guard as a child but those dreams were shattered on the day he was forced to understand his status in the society. His father was a common soldier, as was his grandfather and many generations going back to before the bombs fell. His family was born into their roles and could not rise above their station. Such was the way of things. If Naytl could not be a King's Guard, he would be a soldier but not a grunt like everybody else. He would fight harder than his brothers in combat. He would kill more enemy troops, take more territory. His hatred for the enemy would drive him forward. It was a hatred that had seen him through many battles. His body bore the scars of countless bullet and stab wounds. He survived, even when those to his left and right on the battlefield fell to their deaths. He never showed fear, never hesitated and never gave up ground he fought to take. A veteran of fourteen campaigns, Naytl was the perfect soldier.

    And then the ship came. It was unlike any airship he had ever seen. The four creatures who had emerged from the craft looked like nothing he had ever encountered on the battlefield. They were truly alien. For the first time since he was a cadet, Naytl experienced true fear. His enemy was known to him. He did not fear what he knew he could kill. But the aliens standing before him now removed all thought and reason from his overwhelmed mind. He couldn't think. He didn't know what to do. Looking around him, he saw that his comrades and even his enemies were just as frozen as he was. When the first creature, possibly the leader, spoke in a language he couldn't comprehend, his basic training kicked in. One simple command stamped on his conscious and subconscious mind led his actions - kill the enemy. His finger moved to the trigger as he raised his rifle. A gentle squeeze was all it took to light the spark that would send the bullet down the barrel of his rifle, into the open air and towards the head of the strange creature.

    When the creature dodged the bullet, he was shocked. When his weapon and the weapons of a hundred other soldiers on both sides rose into the air, everything became clear. These creatures from the fiery airship weren't creatures at all. They were gods. He knew then what he had to do. He fell to his knees. Other soldiers followed suit. Beyond the battlefield on either side, both kings watched as 2 million trained soldiers bowed before the alien gods. His rifle fell beside him. It was the last shot that gun would ever fire. The last shot of a centuries-long war.

    "Greetings," said Draze with a smile, just before the shot rang out. When the bullet passed him by, he didn't panic. He had been too well trained for that. But he knew that it would only be a few moments before a volley of shots from two million guns followed and even he couldn't dodge them all. He had to move quickly. "Their weapons. Raise them," he commanded as he stretched out his hand

    His comrades followed suit. They had all been trained on Tython, taught to listen to the Force around them, taught to speak to it and feel its energy flow through their bodies. They could feel the wooden shafts of the gun barrels pointed at them. As they reached out, they could sense the texture of the handle, the cold metal of the trigger mechanism. Two million guns were far too many so only those right on the front lines could be manipulated.

    The natives found the weapons slipping from their grasp. But the rifles weren't caught by the pull of gravity. Instead, a far more powerful universal constant pull them upwards, high over the heads of the two armies. The natives could only watch in stunned silence as their weapons floated towards the strangers who had come amongst them from the stars before finally dropping at their feet.

    The one who had fired the shot was the first to fall to his knees. Others quickly followed. Cana and Rax glanced at each other, bemused. Daron managed a sly grin as events turned in their favour. But it was Draze who was the first to act. "Please, don't bow to us. We're not gods." He rushed to the nearest alien and attempted to get him to his feet. "Do not worship us. We do not deserve or want it." His words fell on deaf ears.

    "I don't think they understand you," Cana commented as she surveyed the scene, drawing a puzzled look from Draze. "This is an alien world. It has its own language. One we don't understand. They certainly don't understand us."

    "Then what do you suggest we do?" Draze asked.

    Before Cana could respond, the sea of people parted on both sides of the battlefield. The kings had come down from their perches. Through all the bloodshed and endless war, this was the first time two kings had met since the fall of the ninth king, They eyed each other with suspicion and hatred but their gaze quickly turned to the aliens.

    King Krovl looked at his troops, all of them on their knees. He had witnessed the raising of the weapons through his scopes but he could scarcely believe it. King Aethr found himself in a similar predicament. None of his soldiers would stand. And why should they? In their minds, they were standing before gods. They were gods unlike anything in their culture. The statues and temples that once littered the landscape lay in the ruins of a nuclear wasteland.

    "I think those are the leaders," Rax suggested. Draze had to agree. These two natives were dressed differently to the soldiers. They carried themselves much like the princes and dukes of the Corellian royal family. Even in a completely alien culture, there was no mistaking those who believed themselves to be above everyone else.

    "Why are they staring at us?" Daron asked, shifting uncomfortably as he used the Force to keep his body safe from the radiation. He wondered why the natives fought in the radioactive wasteland without any kind of protective gear. In his mind, he theorised that they had developed some form of natural resistance. He'd love to examine one of them but now wasn't the time.

    "They want to know what we are," answered Rax. "Are we gods? Or are we men?"

    Glancing down at Naytl, Draze saw a small blade hanging from his belt. With a flick of his wrist, the blade flew through the air, into his hand, immediately prompting the bodyguards of both kings to surround their masters. Sensing that this was a critical moment, Draze took a step backwards, an effort to show the alien kings that his actions weren't hostile. Then, holding out his left hand, Draze drew the blade across his palm, slicing a path through skin.

    "What are you doing? Cana asked, confused.

    "Showing them that we're not gods," answered Draze as he held out his bloodied hand. The kings, as wary of each other as they were of the alien visitors, studied the bleeding hands closely. Apparently content, the kings stepped forward and grasped Draze' hand. Both kings ran fingers through the wound, causing Draze to grimace slightly.

    "What just happened?" queried Daron as the strange event unfolded in front of him.

    "Gods don't bleed," Draze explained as both armies got to their feet.

    Naytl didn't know what to make of it. Only minutes ago, two armies were ready to engage in another pointless battle over worthless land. Now, their long-seeded hatreds seemed forgotten. There was something new in the world, something far more important than their endless war.


    Word of the alien visitors spread quickly across the planet. For the first time in centuries, a truce was called. Everyone wanted to know about the aliens and their powers but their inability to communicate with each other meant that they would have to wait. For two years, the aliens lived with them, traveling across the entire world, showing their power to the marveled natives. Naytl, the man who fired the last shot before the truce, was chosen by Draze to accompany them. He would learn the language of the aliens and teach them his language. But in the two years of peace, not once did the aliens explain why they had come. When the language barrier was finally broken, they asked only that all the leaders, all the kings of the world be brought together so that all nations could hear their tale.

    And so, two years after the fateful day the aliens came, the eight kings gathered at the summit of Mount Krahl, named after the last of the High Kings. There hadn't been a High King in over a thousand years and as the world plunged into seemingly eternal warfare, it seemed that there would never be a High King to unite them again. But here they were, all the kings of the world, not gathered by a High King, but by strangers from another world.

    The kings sat on thrones in a circle. Four thrones remained empty. Three for the line of fallen kings and one for a High King, should one ever be chosen again. The strangers, and Naytl stood in the centre. Draze and his companions had spent some time learning the native language but they found that Naytl was far more adept at learning theirs. He would translate their words for the whole world to hear. Two years was a long time to wait but the wait was over.

    "I, Draze, emissary of the Order Of The Jedi Bendu, humbly greet the great kings gathered here." Draze waited a moment for Naytl to translate, then continued. "For the past two years, my friends and I have travelled your world and visited all your great nations. We are honoured to be among you but also saddened to see how war has destroyed what was once a great world."

    "Who are you?" King Esalh asked. "Where do you come from?"

    Waiting for Naytl's translation, Draze formulated his response. "We come from a world far from here, orbiting another star. It is a world we call Tython. It is here that my Order resides, followers of a great universal energy we know as the Force. It is through the Force that we are capable of feats that many of you believe are magical. We are not gods, as some believe. We are mortal beings, like you. Some would call us monks, though I am not sure if it is an adequate term. But within the Order, we are called Jedi."

    "And why have you come?" King Krovl asked, more than a touch of mistrust in his voice.

    "For centuries, the Jedi Bendu have studied the Force Of Others, hoping to unlock its secrets and gain a greater understanding of the universe. Through the Force, we sensed your world and the endless pain of war that you experience. The Force is strong with you and your people. We hoped to heal the wounds of war and show you another path. There are those within the Order who believe that the Force is for us alone. They would use that power only for their own needs, thinking only of themselves and not the needs of the many beings suffering across the universe. I believe that the power we possess was meant to be shared and used for the good of all beings. That is why we are here. We are here to teach, should you wish it."

    For three straight days, Draze and his fellow Jedi explained what they knew of the Force. They spoke about Tython and the Jedi Bendu, of the many worlds across the galaxy, teeming with life, each with their own stories of gods and powerful mortals who harnessed an unknown power. When Rax gave his testimony, he spoke of the advent of hyperspace travel that allowed ships to travel between stars and beyond and of a galaxy that was becoming a whole lot smaller. The eight kings and their aides listened to every world as translated by Naytl. With each answer they received, more questions arose. Soon, even the most skeptical of the kings became enthralled by the words of the mysterious Jedi. On the third day, observed by the Jedi, the eight kings signed a peace treaty, making a promise to rebuild their world and journey out to the stars to see the vast galaxy for themselves.

    "You speak of life in the galaxy, of countless sentient beings who travel the stars," King Aldn commented, "but even untranslated, I can hear the sadness in your voice."

    "It is nothing, Your Majesty," Draze responded politely.

    "Speak plainly," King Krovl demanded, sensing that Draze was holding back.

    Looking around at his comrades, Draze hesitated. Until now, he had spoken of the galaxy as he wished to see it. Not as it actually was. "The galaxy is much like your world. It is divided. Some worlds were brought together, it's true and the Jedi Bendu come from all over the galaxy, united by common purpose. But like the nations of this world before our arrival, the countless worlds in our galaxy think only of themselves. Your world has been in a state of war for centuries. The galaxy has seen many wars between worlds over many thousands of years. Every world thinks only of itself. Some within the Jedi would leave the galaxy to its fate. Others, like myself, thought that if we could show them the way of the Force, show them how connected they truly are, then perhaps they would unite. But the Jedi Bendu are small and insignificant in size.

    "I had a dream once, a vision of the entire galaxy existing as a single entity, no longer divided by petty issues, but united in the pursuit of the common good. When I sensed your world, I thought, foolishly perhaps, that if you could end your destructive conflict and follow the ways of the Force, you would be an example to the galaxy that what unites us is far stronger than what divides us. That is why we came here."

    Once Naytl finished translating Draze' words, the kings began to talk among themselves. With no more questions, Draze stepped back and rejoined his friends.

    "I wonder what they're talking about," said Cana as she observed the kings in deep conversation. Her two years on the planet hadn't helped her to pick up more than a couple of common phrases. Linguistics was never her strong suit.

    "Probably debating whether to burn us alive or just kick us off their world," Rax answered with a touch of sarcasm. He'd always been the most skeptical of the group when it came to Draze's dream of uniting the galaxy. Back on Tython, the debate about whether or not to rejoin the galaxy as a force for good had never been settled. In spite of all the wars, there were still twenty million people on this planet, most of them strong in the Force though none had been trained to use it. It was potential that had been hidden away beneath the blood and bodies of countless fallen soldiers.

    "You could teach us this power?" King Aethr finally asked as the whispers of the kings finally came to an end.

    "We could," Draze answered, stepping forward once again as Naytl's translation reached his ears. "But only if you pledge yourselves to a greater ideal."

    "And you would take us to the stars?" asked King Gratn, dreaming of a life beyond the nuclear wasteland of his home.

    "Yes. Pledge yourselves to the ways of the Force, to using the power we would teach you to unite the galaxy and bring lasting peace to every world and you would see those worlds renewed. United in mutual co-operation, perhaps your own world could someday see a new dawn beyond the nuclear fallout of forgotten battles." As Draze spoke, he sensed a profound and important moment was at hand. The Jedi on Tython seemed to favour a selfish hold over the power they possessed. Candidates for training would go to Tython to be tested. Many were rejected out of spite and fear of what would happen should the secrets of the Force become known across the galaxy. But suggesting that he could train an entire world in the ways of the Force was more than just a defiance of the Order. It would mark a new beginning for the Jedi Bendu. Instead of locking themselves away on a forgotten world, they could become a part of the galaxy and shape its future for the betterment of all.

    "Are you sure that we can even learn this power?" King Aethr asked, prompting Draze to signal to his translator.

    "Naytl, show them what I have taught you." Draze commanded.
    Taking a deep breath, Naytl stretched out his hand. As he did so, the walls began to shake. Then the floor. All eight occupied throne rose into the air. Naytl closed his eyes, trying to visualise his actions in his mind and remain focused on the task at hand. In the two years he had spent with the Jedi, he had learned a lot more than just their language. After a few moments of holding the kings in the air, he let them fall gracefully back to where they had started. When he opened his eyes to look at the kings, he noticed simultaneous gazed of bewilderment and fear in their eyes.

    "Such power is indeed startling," King Krovl commented. "It was such power that united our peoples in peace. Perhaps it is time to take our place in the galaxy and bring the peace that we have been given here to all beings of conscience. If the Jedi will lead us, I for one will follow."

    "As will I." King Aethr added.

    "And I," King Gratn said. One by one each of the kings, in the name of their kingdoms and subjects, vowed to follow the ways of the Force and bring peace to the galaxy.

    "Are you sure about this?" Doran asked the smiling Draze. "Twenty million people learning the ways of the Force. It seems dangerous. The Council may not go for this."

    "They will," Draze assured him. "When the Force can bring peace to a world at war, imagine what it can do for the galaxy."

    "I don't know," mused Cana. "Twenty million descending on the galaxy...sounds a bit like an army."

    "No, not an army. Jedi." Draze replied just as the last of the kings pledged their allegiance.


    The next day, the kings and the Jedi gathered once again. The nations of the world hadn't been united in a long time and the despite the protests of the Jedi, the kings insisted that they observe one of the ancient rituals of unity. Draze, as the leader of the Jedi, was chosen. Kneeling in the centre of the Court Of Kings, he bowed his head and prepared for the ceremony that he agreed to take part in with great reluctance. As hesitant as he was though, he knew that it was a first step on the road to galactic unity.

    Naytl, as the liaison between the two peoples, was chosen to perform the ritual. In his hand was a long and sharp sword, an ancient weapon, even on this relatively primitive world. "This is the sword of kings," he said as he tried to focus on not screwing up the ceremony. "Made from the hardest metal known to us, it is highly conductive. Electricity passes up and down the blade, shocking and burning anyone who comes into contact with it. It is a symbol of the power of the High King."

    As Naytl placed the sword in Draze's hand, the Jedi noticed a small switch at the base of the hilt. Pressing the switch, he immediately heard the hum of electricity as the sword became electrified. The sword itself was heavy and somewhat clumsy. After studying it for a moment, he switched off the current and waited for Naytl to continue the ritual. Jedi didn't carry weapons but as Draze held the sword in his hand, it felt a more noble weapon than a gun. Prompting Draze to rise, Naytl next led Draze to an empty throne. The throne of the High King.

    Reluctantly, Draze sat on the throne. It stood at least a foot higher than the other thrones and he felt uncomfortable sitting there. But he would do what had to be done for the sake of the future. His companions were all invited to stand on either side of him and they did so. None of them were really sure what to make of what was going on. They hadn't come to this world to rule, but here they were, their leader about to become supreme ruler of the planet, a symbolic gesture in Draze's eyes perhaps, but not in the eyes of the natives.

    "I call now on the great kings," Naytl continued. "If any would challenge his right, let them proclaim now or remain in silent embrace of the new High King."

    Draze waited for someone to speak up but nobody did. After centuries of fighting each other, it seemed that they were all ready to be led.

    "Draze of the Order Of The Jedi Bendu," Naytl said, continuing the ritual, "you came to our world, a stranger. Now you sit in the highest throne. In ancient times, our world was divided into twelve kingdoms. Each kingdom was ruled by a wise king. In order to prevent war between kings, a thirteenth king, the wisest of all, was proclaimed High King, to watch over the kingdoms and all the people. This role is now given to you. Do you accept this destiny in the name of our laws, under our gods and yours?"

    Once again, Draze hesitated for a moment. But it was the only way. "I accept."

    "Then," Naytl continued. "As the first High King of the new age, as witnessed by the eight kings before us and all of Korriban, I bestow upon you the title of Darth Primus, Lord Of The Sith. All hail Darth Primus."

    "All hail Darth Primus," King Aethr exclaimed.

    "All hail Darth Primus," followed King Krovl.

    One by one, the eight kings hailed their new leader. He was not of Korriban, his blood was not of Sith origin. But he would lead them to the stars as a united people to end the turmoil of a divided galaxy.

    Sitting on his throne, the newly crowned Darth Primus felt uneasy. He had come to liberate the Sith from war and set them on a new path, not become supreme ruler of this alien world. He knew the Jedi on Tython would not approve but as he looked at the kings who were bowing to him, his thoughts dwelled on the twenty million Sith, all strong in the Force, beyond the walls of the Court Of Kings. Deep in his heart, he knew that he now had the power to unite the galaxy as he had long dreamed and in the back of his mind, he had to admit that the power felt good.
  2. TheChosenSolo

    TheChosenSolo Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Dec 9, 2011
    I was definitely not expecting the world to be Korriban! This is a very great story! A nice way to bring about the beginning of the Sith Lords.
  3. Jedsithor

    Jedsithor Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Oct 1, 2005

    Thanks. I wanted to reimagine the origin of the Sith in a way that didn't make them evil right out of the gate. They aren't evil, they're still essentially Jedi and they aren't training an army, they're training evangelists. I won't be writing a direct sequel to this (if I write another one it will jump ahead a few hundred years) so I can say what happens next. Basically, the Jedi on Tython don't agree with training twenty million Sith in the ways of the Force. This story takes place before there is even a concept of a Dark Side, there is only the Force. They certainly don't agree with Draze becoming high king of Korriban. But at this stage in their development, the Jedi Bendu aren't knights. They're monks. They excommunicate the four Jedi but they don't interfere in their plans. Some even agree with the plan but their policy of non-interference prevents them from joining.

    The trouble is, the Sith have been consumed by centuries of war and while the four Jedi may have brought peace to their world, there's still much anger and bloodlust within the population. Darth Primus (in my story, "Darth" is a word for king or emperor, so the name means First King) does his best to curb that anger but when he leads the Sith out into the galaxy, he finds that the galaxy is even more corrupt and divided than he thought and every world he visits treats him and his followers with utter contempt. His obsession with uniting the galaxy grows deeper and he begins to contemplate using force to achieve his goal. He doesn't want to, but he starts to believe that it will be necessary and once he starts thinking like that, his fall is inevitable. If the galaxy won't choose peaceful co-existence, he'll force it on them. As he falls deeper into darkness, he takes his followers with him and soon, he starts exploring the Force in ways he once thought impossible, fuelled by his ambition.

    It occurred to me that like Dooku, like Anakin and countless others, the fall of the first Sith Lords would come from a desire to do good and Darth Primus' twisted Jedi philosophy combined with the warrior ways of the Sith would result in a complete overthrow of the galaxy. If the only way to maintain peace was to rule, so be it. So the Sith take over the galaxy but soon the old ways of Korriban reassert themselves. Just as the kingdoms of the Sith on Korriban were divided, the galaxy would end up the same way. Instead of a single united Sith Empire, the galaxy would fragment into factions in constant warfare but threats would also come from within, with Sith within factions fighting each other for power even as the factions as a whole fought for supremacy. The "sword of kings" in the story is of course a precursor to the lightsaber, which in my mind would start out as a Sith weapon because the Jedi of the time were pacifists. Even while the Sith controlled the galaxy and engaged in endless war for centuries, the Jedi remained on Tython, unwilling and unable to do anything about the Sith until one event changed everything and that event will be the subject of my next story.
  4. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Aug 31, 2004
    How incredibly fascinating! The timeframe and the philosophy you've detailed. =D= I never imagined that was Koriban either. [face_thinking] A very thought-provoking premise and context for the origins of the Sith.
  5. Jedsithor

    Jedsithor Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Oct 1, 2005

    The reason this is a short story and not a multi-chapter story is because there was only so long I could refer to the Sith as "the natives" without giving away their identity and spoiling the ending. :p

    Incidentally, the story takes place in Lucas' 1,000-year Republic timeline rather than the 25,000 of EU, so it takes place around 500 years before the birth of the Republic and 1500 years before The Phantom Menace.