{The light shone in darkness: and the darkness comprehend it not.}

[Andronica]

"You must be calm, padawan," master Kolath said to Lythia. How she hated the man. The only reason she was out on this damned verdant, perfect looking planet was because he decided a change of scenery might help the volatile and late blooming padawan to hone her skills. However, this couldn’t aid the young woman in finding some kind of inner peace - although if it weren't for her exceptional abilities in the Force, Kolath did believe he never would have taken her under his wing. She was difficult, to say the least, and had not made the experience easy on either of them.

"How can you expect me to not feel something?" she retorted angrily, crossing her arms over her chest and pacing back and forth, her slender and toned body were a testament to the training she endured. However the subtle curves beneath her black shin high boots, brown breeches and arm guards. A tan chest piece with another boringly brown sash fell between her legs to the middle of her thighs, and was cut along the side from the hip down to free her movement. Master Kolath sighed into his palm, running it over his face. Ever since he fought in the Wars he believed himself to be invincible or close to it, and she was tired of all the pomp and ego coming from a Jedi.

He had the countenance of an older male relative - certainly not even close to a father figure (even though that was what he had hoped for), unless it was the absentee sort who returned only to make demands of her. Which was essentially what her master did. Unlike most, if not all padawans, she and her master only trained together and chose to forego the academy since the galaxy - he believed - was quite safe from the taint of the dark side. Perhaps he was finally growing tired of the spitfire young woman and had yet to find a more suitable Master to pass her off to, in the most discreet manner possible. The older man had dull medium brown hair cut short to the nape of his neck which matched the hue of his robes. His hair was blanched with silver streaks through the temples and short beard as a sign of his age. And wisdom, one might think, but Lythia just thought he was full of it.

She figured her opinions of him couldn't change even if she didn't have such a fiery temper. Jedi practised a strict code of honour and control. Due to the circumstances that led her into Master Kolath's tutelage however, she could hardly muster the will power to remain calm under some circumstances. He found the runt of a girl after her family had been killed by Imperial agents and, noticing the aura about her, decided he could tame these emotions now that his time was relatively Sith-free.

Suddenly, his hand shot up and silenced Lythia.

"I sense...something," he said with a look of mild confusion on his face.

The young woman's features contorted into a look of anger at being so rudely interrupted. High cheekbones, a fair porcelain complexion, an elegant pointed nose and gently arching brows made up her visage. Naturally thick lashes bat over top her bright steel-blue eyes, such a vibrant shade that they almost seemed silvery. They flicked in the direction Kolath was pointing and her hand moved to her lightsaber.

"Don't be so quick to act and allow your emotions to take over," he reminded her with a more stern tone, making her rosy full lips purse into a mild scowl at his constant nagging, and she flicked her head to the side which dispersed the loose braids of golden brown.

 

[Rivine]

"How odd," a voice cut in on their conversation, seemingly coming from nowhere, "It is rare for anyone to be able to sense my presence unless I wish it." There was a wavering in the air on a tree limb across the glade that the pair were in and a male was suddenly revealed to be standing there, moving his left hand away from his belt. Simultaneously his presence rolled out from him, a darkness the depths of which was hard to fathom. Moros stepped off the branch, which was easily forty feet above the ground, but landed as it had been a mere four inches from it. The man looked across the glade at the Jedi, smiling and spoke softly, his voice almost silky as it flowed forth, "You really are a lost cause old one. If she had listened to her emotions she would have been prepared. Not that it would have mattered."

The Sith's maroon robes flapped slightly as he walked toward them slowly, stopping halfway across the open expanse. He was fairly tall, standing just a shade under two meters. He considered them both a small smirk upon his lips. Moros had only arrived on the planet two days before, surprised that any Jedi were here at all. He would have left without exposing himself to them if he had not felt a surge of intense anger from one of them. It had been far, far too tempting. Now he stood before them, studying them both for awhile before his eyes fixed on her. "I can feel your anger, feel your disgust in him," the Sith said to her with a cool smile upon his lips before he added, "It is not misplaced. The old man is a fool and leading you down a path that you are not meant for. Greater things await you then what he is offering."

Kolath moved then, interposing himself between his padawan and the Sith, his hand at his sides. "He speaks falsehoods to you my padawan," the old man stated bluntly, his eyes narrowing on his foe. "You are not welcome here pretender. The Sith have been destroyed, expunged from the universe. You will not fool either of us nor tempt us down your path!"

Moros rolled his eyes at that and sighed, "Spare me. I have heard the denials. In the end they mean nothing." He had converted over a score of Jedi in his life, so he knew all to well of what he spoke. Granted there were far more then he had not converted, but it did not matter, for they were not longer alive. It was a stark choice he offered to those who came into his care, but that was the way of the universe, it was a struggle for survival. If they were foolish enough to turn away from that, to let their haughty and idiotic ideals be worth more to them then themselves, then who was he to deny them? Of course he had no intention whatsoever of trying with the old man, he was worthless to Moros. No, he wanted the girl, plain and simple.