Gliding through realspace, a Lambda-class Shuttle made its way towards the Arcanum, ready to drop-off a load of hopeful Initiates, eager to take their first steps in the Brotherhood after their extended journey. But the wait of a long trip was nothing compared to how long two of its passengers had waited, a Sullustan brother-sister pair. Raised on Tatooine and in a traditional Obelisk home, the two siblings had spent each moment of their 13-year old lives in preparation for the day they could serve the Brotherhood, becoming official members of the Obelisk Order and Clan Plagueis, where they would join the ranks of their long-serving mother and father. Even now, as the shuttle touched down in the Arcanum's hanger, the brother and sister positioned themselves at the entrance ramp, waiting for it to be lowered.

The first to step off the shuttle was Aelita, the older sister, and the next was Alishu, the younger brother.

Meeting a droid and a series of Dark Jedi Knights, ready to take on students, each of the new Initiates reported for their trials. Those that failed became members of the crew, the ship's roster of sentient crewmen drastically low after the alien invasion and the evacuation of Lypsair. Those that succeeded were assigned a clan, house, and battleteam, becoming the apprentice of one of the Knights who so readily watched their arrival.

It was in this manner that Alishu became part of Primus Pilus and House Exar Kun of Clan Plagueis.

Abadeer walked into the circle, screaming and yelling all around him in the native Togruti tongue. He bare chested, with additional white designs painted on to his body to compliment the natural beautiful weave of markings on him. The crowd chanted him on, to fight his opponent. Only one would have victory this day! Abadeer was young, but he was also strong. One of the strongest in his clan already.
Taasii ran at the opposing Togruta, this one blue and white. His opponent was winded, they had both been fighting most of the last two days against various opponents. Abadeer took the advantage, getting underneath his opponent, lifting him up and then slamming him back to the ground. A sharp crack reverberated right before Abadeer began to beat into his opponent. The prone man could not do much more than a feeble attempt at holding his hands up to try to protect himself, but there was no strength left in his arms.
Taasii punched and elbowed, his opponent’s guard meant nothing, so he did not notice when the mans arms fell limp to the ground. Abadeer had been overtaken by rage, pure and simple. He didn’t even remember what he was doing til he’d been pulled off the man. The blue Togruta was dead, an accident to be sure, but one that would change Taasii’s life forever. His first kill.

The sun had been down for hours, and the base he had landed at was observing light discipline during the tumultuous times surrounding them. Even though he'd been called by one of the most influential people from the independent House Ektrosis, Keirdagh was wary. These people, surrounded in power had just spat in the face of the establishment. They had declared war on the whole Brotherhood. It was only his close relationship with Telaris Cantor that even brought him out of his self imposed exile.

"You look lost, Colonel," said a man with a deep, resonating voice his face hidden by the low red lights and the shadows. Something about him though, radiated power, and gold strips trimmed his cloak. "The galaxy is changing, Mr. Cantor. Let us see if we can shape it together."

There once was a man who looked like a Panda and liked to walk naked in the woods.
I came upon this man.
I wish I was born Miralukan.

Korroth sat on the cold metal floor, his hands dumped to the sides, his head slouching forward. His eyes were wide open, though the cell was completely dark. The other captives had fallen silent by now; no more sobbing, no more screaming, no more banging against the walls. The stench was thick and overpowering, hardly any air circulated in the cramped room. Occasionally one of them shifted around to relieve the ache in their limbs, but most had become near-catatonic in their state of dehydration and starvation.

The Pau’an’s brow furrowed. His fingers closed into fists. His mind was not here, it was in his home city, on the day of victory, the day of peace, when he and his confederates had liberated the Ikan people from war. On the day when the Ikan people had recompensed their liberators with death.

The young revolutionaries had thought that no price was too high to stop the bloodshed, to bring down the warmongering City Council. Even their own intimate patriotism was slaughtered for the sacrifice. They had surrendered their city to the enemy, but to avert its destruction, to end its absurd suffering. They had thought that the Ikan people would rejoice and work together to rebuild.

But not so. The people would not share in the sacrifice. They took the peace, sure, but not the bloodied hands. They killed the young betrayers and, though Korroth was still breathing, they killed him too.