(thanks!)

((Thank you. It was pretty much precisely what I was going for in writing this. It's been interesting to explore Coriolis's view on the Force as he develops as a character.))

This is an incredibly subjective set of questions. That said, there is no correct answer to this-- at all. For beginnings, there are far too many ways to execute the start of a story. Some prefer In Medias Res-- or in the middle of the action as opposed to the typical way to start the first act: the intro. It depends on the genre, the mood, the theme, and the overall purpose of the story. You wouldn't typically start a romance story in the middle of a gunfight (you could, which could be interesting), for example. For what compels people-- a good pacing to the story and giving enough at the beginning to make someone want to learn more without giving too much of the story away, or giving so little that it feels like you're going no where with the prose. People don't normally like to feel like they're spinning wheels when reading, nor do they usually like knowing everything of the story within the first 1000 words. As for beginning my own stories-- it depends on what I want to accomplish with the story, what perspective it is written from, and what the overall goal of the narrative is going to end up being. For Family Ties on the board here, I decided to ease into things. However, for other pieces I have written and short stories for different genres (horror, for example) I may start completely different. These questions are all very individualistic and, as stated, subjective. For every five people that would reply to them, you will end up with ten to fifteen different answers. If you're honestly looking for advice on how to jump start your narrative and work on beginnings, I would suggest looking up some books on the genre you prefer. There are some good books from the Horror Writer's association that can help for that genre, or even just the current Writer's Market can be of help.

(OOC: You need to read a LOT more than the first paragraph, friend. And, ironically, if you read that through, you would have realized that the first set of notes was his rationalizing the Unifying Force theory-- which is what you are clearly a proponent of. The next note section is a revision after he's gained more clarity on the subject, moving more in line with the Light and Darkside aspects. While this could be a canon debate, both theories gained some traction within the expanded universe-- the Unifying Force was one reason for Darth Caedus, after all. However... in the end, they are theories and the physical and psychological effects of the darkside in canon material cannot be denied. *shrug*)

Qualthis sighed as the woman’s Force Presence slowly retreated. It did very little to relieve him, the shatterpoint still approached. Frowning, he kept his gaze on the calm waters of the fountain, one hand resting on the hilt of his double-bladed saber. The Jedi did not have to wait long before his solitude was interrupted. Another Force Presence slowly entered the area. There was little emotion flowing from the presence, merely a simple sense of purpose. Turning his eyes from the water to the Southern walkway, Qualthis spotted a fellow Jedi in robes begin to approach, his head shrouded by the hood of his cloak. A small chuckle nearly escaped his lips at the anticipation that had filled him. He felt as if he were being too paranoid… at least, until the Jedi placed his hand upon the saber at his belt. Without a word between them, Qualthis turned to face his would-be assailant, his arms folding over his chest in the sleeves of his robes. “Good morning, isn’t it?” Qualthis asked with a small smile. The other Jedi drew the saber from his belt, igniting the green blade in a snap-hiss of energy. As the lightsaber cut through the early morning air, the Jedi launched himself at Qualthis in a Force leap, crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. The emerald blade sweeping down toward him, Qualthis gracefully stepped to the side, allowing his attacker to land less than a metre away from him. “Well, I can’t say that is a polite way to greet a fellow Jedi,” Qualthis commented, stepping back and pulling his own lightsaber from his belt. He ignited the yellow blades, twirling the saber before him in a wave of amber light. “I suggest disengaging the weapon so we can discuss-“ The opponent’s saber snapped around in an aggressive fan, the marks of Djem-so coloring its movements. A powerful, overhanded strike hissed through the air toward Qualthis, forcing the Jedi Knight to spin his double-bladed saber up to block. Qualthis knocked the attack aside, using his attacker’s momentum to send the blade wide. Spinning his amber blades before him, Qualthis retreated from his opponent a few steps before sliding into a defensive stance. His feet rested a shoulder length apart as he placed his left side to his attacker. The saberstaff spun, finally coming to rest in Qualthis’s right hand, down at his side, the humming blades horizontal to the ground. The Jedi that assaulted Qualthis grinned in the shadows of his hood, slowly pulling the fabric back to reveal his face. The illumination of the courtyard shone down upon the Miraluka, dancing around the edges of his elaborately trimmed veil. Qualthis did not recognize his attacker, but the simplicity of his strikes showed unfamiliarity with an opponent wielding a double-bladed lightsaber. The Jedi counted at least three times he could have killed the Miraluka. “My Master… sends his regards,” the Miraluka commented with a grin as he raised his emerald saber in both hands. The fighter’s feet shifted on the durasteel ground as his body shifted. He held his left side to Qualthis, feet planted firmly on the ground, lightsaber held high in both hands. Qualthis frowned, feeling his opponent begin to give in to his rage. It was as if a small torrent of raw anger had begun to flow through the Miraluka. In response, Qualthis simply took a deep breath and surrendered himself to the Force. Both combatants moved forward simultaneously, their humming blades cutting through the morning air of Coruscant. The Miraluka brought his blade down in a powerful stroke, only to have it met by one of the ends of Qualthis’ saber. As if anticipating the block, the combatant spun on the balls of his feet, ducking down as he twisted, the humming emerald blade sweeping toward the Jedi’s midsection in a horizontal slash. Qualthis spun the hilt in his hands, twisting it vertical to block the strike. The two blades met in a crackling of energy, the light of the yellow blade illuminating the faces of the combatants for a split second before Qualthis struck out with his boot, the heel catching the Miraluka in the chin and staggering him. As his opponent stumbled backwards to regain his footing, Qualthis calmly spun his weapon before him, weaving a pattern of light in the air as he settled back into his guard stance. “A Sith striking on Coruscant… seems you care little for treaties… not that I am surprised,” Qualthis commented as his attacker rose to his feet, holding his blade once more in front of him. “My Master has promised to raise me to his apprentice if I kill you, Jedi…” came the response. The Miraluka twirled his blade before him, the tip darting toward Qualthis’ torso in a feint a split second before he Force leaped into the air, twirling his body and summersaulting over the Jedi. Landing behind Qualthis, he brought his emerald blade up in an underhanded vertical slash toward the Jedi’s back. Qualthis spun on instinct, the Force guiding him as he twirled the yellow blade in his hands, one end striking the green lightsaber of his opponent and pushing it aside. With a twist of his hands, Qualthis reversed the direction of his blade, bringing it up and under the Miraluka’s wrist, severing it in a Cho mai strike. His attacker’s lightsaber clattered to the ground along with the severed appendage. Qualthis nudged the lightsaber away with a booted foot, spinning the double-bladed lightsaber in his hands, the tip of one end resting mere inches from the Miraluka’s throat. “Now… perhaps you’d like to discuss things rationally?” he asked. The Miraluka groaned, his free hand moving to the stump of his arm as he stumbled backward in an attempt to retreat from the Jedi. Qualthis merely frowned and sent him to the ground, the Force flowing around the attacker and sending him to his back on the durasteel. Standing over him, Qualthis sighed, keeping his amber blade near the Miraluka. “Do I need to ask you again?” A twinge in the Force was the only warning Qualthis felt, forcing him to instinctively step to the side as a slug of metal hissed through the air near his head, followed by an unusually large muzzle rapport. There was a sickening thud as the Jedi twisted, looking up toward the Northern tower where the shot had come from. There was a mere glint of light off of a barrel as the final gasps from his attacker made their way to his ears. Deactivating his blade, Qualthis turned his eyes back to the Miraluka on the ground. A clean shot had sent a slugthrower bullet through the robe over his heart and through his body. He was dead before the Jedi had even turned back to him. Kneeling down beside the body, Qualthis rummaged through his robes, looking for anything he could use to identify the Miraluka. The only thing he managed to find was a small lapel pin in the shape of a crest. As his fingers touched it, he immediately recognized the emblazoned design—a Lata’aran hunting cat against a shield. It was the T’Lin family crest. His family crest. Qualthis sighed, his fist tight around the lapel as he sat next to the body. The Cosuscant sunrise was slowly beginning to shed its rays on the courtyard. Security would soon arrive, and he hadn’t quite figured out what he was going to tell them. *** Vette made her way through the residential tower on the end of the courtyard as the battle broke out between the Jedi and Coriolis’s pawn. It thrilled her to be at the seat of danger, yet completely unnoticed. The twi’lek held a small smile on her lips as he maneuvered around a few early risers leaving to go to their businesses, offering a polite nod and smile here and there. Her dress flowed with her, the thin fabric shimmering with each movement of her body as she navigated the hallways. It was a small perk, one that she secretly enjoyed. She had the sense that if Coriolis or any of the others knew that she occasionally liked ‘girly’ possessions she would never hear the end of it. Rounding a final corner, Vette cast a glance over her shoulder, then down at her chrono. She had a minute, maybe less to be on her way. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she took the last few metres of her trip in a quick jog. Finding the correct apartment, she hastily tapped out the access code on the control panel. As the door slid open, she slipped inside, hearing it close behind her. The entryway was dark, the transparisteel of the windows tinted to keep out the lights of the Coruscant night. As she darted toward the far window, she heard a voice crackle through the earpiece she wore. “Fight is going as planned… you have thirty seconds before he has a chance to find you.” Vette frowned, reaching the window and kneeling down to feel for the small satchel that waited for her on the floor. Finding it, she tossed it over one shoulder. “I’m already in place. You better time your shot, Pierce,” she replied into the comlink in her sleeve. “20… 19…” Frowning at the soldier’s lack of a sense of humor, Vette slipped her chrono off of her wrist and placed it against the center of the window. She activated the adhesive on its bottom with the push of a button, and then quickly moved to take cover behind one of the couches. In her ear piece, Pierce still counted off. “Five… four… there… two…” Vette winced in anticipation, her finger on the detonation trigger concealed in her earring. As Pierce’s count hit one, she clicked the button. The resulting explosion was focused, spraying shards of transparisteel into the air outside the apartment and leaving a nearly two metre wide hole in the window. The twi’lek peeked over the couch, then smiled, rolling over its back and heading for the new exit. As she approached, Vette raised her comlink to her lips. “Now or never, Pierce, time to go,” she said, carefully climbing out of the window and into the waiting air speeder. “Leaving the weapon now… meet me at the rendezvous in ten seconds,” came the reply. Vette stifled a small yawn dramatically, winking to the human seated in the pilot’s seat. The man shook his head and hit the throttle, pulling the speeder higher into the air and toward the balcony designated as Pierce’s extraction point. The human was easily in his thirties, the worn texture of his features hinting that he spent some time in the desert. His cybernetic left hand was a very practical prosthesis, but a cold and ugly lump of metal. He only had one good eye, his left covered up by a metal patch. Vette sighed, leaning against the side of the open-topped speeder. Where Coriolis found these people was beyond her. As they slowed to a stop at the balcony, Vette spotted Pierce peering over the side. The muscular soldier was wearing a casual business suit. His slacks were of nice quality, but he wore a relaxed top, the fabric loose against his body. As he moved, pulling himself over the railing of the balcony, Vette spotted the tell-tale bulges of two blaster carbines tucked away in holsters on his torso. The twi’lek allowed herself a chuckle as Pierce climbed into the back of the speeder. “We ready to go?” She asked, looking back at the soldier. Pierce nodded silently, his eyes shifting to the pilot. “Did you handle your end?” the soldier asked Vette. The twi’lek smiled, raising her right hand. Waggling her fingers in front of him and displaying the artificial fingerprints adhered to the tips of her blue fingers. “Courtesy of Imperial Intelligence,” she replied with a wink. “Remind me to buy Sentra a Corellian Ale when we’re off this rock. The damn Chiss is useful, I’ll give him that,” Pierce smirked. “Oh, your piloting skills up to par?” he asked. “Yeah, why?” Vette responded, looking back at the soldier again. “No reason,” came the response as Pierce leaned forward in the backseat. His large hands wrapped around the neck of the pilot. There was a strangled cry as the soldier suddenly jerked his hands to the side. Vette nearly jumped as she heard the sickening wet crack of the human’s neck as it was snapped. “Unless you count this, of course.” Pierce casually lifted the body out of the seat, tossing it over the side of the speeder. Vette scrambled, slipping into the now-vacant position, her hands flying over the controls as the speeder began to rapidly descend. Pulling the vehicle level, she shot Pierce a baleful look over her shoulder. “What the hell? Next time warn me, will you?” she demanded. “Boss said no loose strings,” he shrugged. Rolling her eyes, Vette pulled the speeder into a sharp turn and a dive, taking them to the lower depths of Corsucant, past the shining towers and into the gritty undercity where their contact and extraction would be waiting. ***

Family Ties Part I Coriolis sat in darkness. There was a comforting feeling to it—a bit of familiarity in the absence of light. As a Lata’aran, he was used to excessive darkness. His homeworld only saw six weeks of full daylight each year, the remaining days either twilight or illuminated only by star light. As such, his species developed enhanced eyesight that collected and enhanced ambient light. To him, the lights of cities such as Dromund Kaas and Coruscant were nearly painful. But, when he could, he enjoyed the pure darkness of his quarters, allowing his eyes to relax and recuperate after being exposed to so much luminance. The Sith Lord wore a simple pair of robes; the coarse fabric was black and warm. Around him, he could feel the droning hum of his ship’s systems as it traveled through hyperspace. The noise was a constant companion, beyond the individuals who had allied themselves to his cause and his path, his ship was the one thing he could count on to not betray him out of personal ambition or simple greed. The road he walked was rife with peril, both from within the Empire and from without. Embroiled in his old Master’s schemes, Coriolis had weathered the betrayal and blind ambition of numerous rivals, only to be rewarded with his title and the ability to do as he saw fit within his duty to the Emperor. Still, it was all a part of being Sith. The Empire would weed out those unfit and reward the strong. There was a simplistic beauty to it; the worthy thrived while the unworthy perished. The Sith were creating an empire of perfection, one life at a time. A low knocking on the door to his quarters brought Coriolis out of his thoughts, his eyes slowly opening and rising to the sound. “Enter,” he said, his voice slithering across the darkness and penetrating the durasteel of the door. It was a sound more felt than heard, as if pushed through the Force itself. The door slowly slid open, retreating into the wall and bathing the Sith Lord in the pale illumination of the ship’s lighting. A silhouette stood in the light, slowly taking shape as Coriolis’s eyes adjusted to the invading brightness. His irises, tainted and yellow, reflected the light, shimmering like a hunting cat’s. There was a moment of silence as Coriolis looked up at his apprentice from his place on the floor. The room around him was barren, marked only by the coarse rug he sat upon and a sleeping pad in one corner. The Sith had eschewed all luxury in his quarters, preferring simpler accommodations. “We will be leaving Hyperspace soon, Master. The droid estimates local time at 0500 hours, with sunrise in an hour and forty minutes,” his apprentice said quietly, a bit unnerved by the sight of her master staring at her as if he were deciding to end her life as she spoke. Her eyes fell briefly to the diagonal scar that ran across his face, stretching from his forehead to his left cheek. She had always wondered how he had gained it—but it hardly seemed like the time to bring it up. Instead, she waited for his response in silence. “Very good. Inform Tuvee to slowly pull us into Stentat’s orbit. Shut down all non-vital systems and hide among the moons,” Coriolis replied calmly, his eyes closing once more. “Of course… my Master.” “You are uneasy,” The Sith Lord observed, the hesitation in his apprentice’s voice betraying her emotion as clearly as her presence in the Force. “Forgive me for being so bold, Master… but entering the Coruscant system… is this not a violation of our Treaty with the Republic?” “There are treaties and there are treaties. Simply do as you are told and allow me to worry about everything else,” Coriolis responded, his tone announcing the subject’s close. The apprentice nodded and closed the door to his quarters once more. The Sith Lord could feel her presence move through the ship, making its way toward the cockpit. Coriolis sighed in the darkness, shaking his head. His thoughts turned inward, the droning sound of the ship’s functions around him slowly retreating, as if he were descending down a long tunnel. Around him pulsed the void of space. His thoughts emptied, all concerns vanishing as he reached out to the Force. There was not so much a sudden rush of energy through him as it was an acute realization that it had been there all along—he was merely acknowledging its presence. There was a calm detachment about him as he allowed his consciousness to float within his mind. Like ripples across the surface of a lake, his thoughts slowly began to emerge once more, sliding across his calm as he allowed the Force to flow through him. Coriolis smirked softly. He always felt the Jedi had a more rational approach to meditation… but he could not deny the pure power of his emotions. In one cruel movement of thought, Coriolis summoned his contempt for himself to the fore of his thoughts. His hatred at the weakness of the Jedi… his anger at the ease with which he used their techniques… the revulsion of his original teachings at the temple on Coruscant… all of it swept through him like a sudden tidal wave. As the Force began to flee his touch at the influx of emotion, Coriolis reached out, grasping it and wrenching it back into his being. The once calm flow of energy became frantic, fueled by the power of his raw emotion. Like an untamed beast, it fought against him. The Sith Lord’s will was absolute, refusing to relent to the power of the Force. Instead, he bent it to his thoughts, wresting control amidst the chaos. In the cockpit, Jaesa blinked. The veil of hyperspace beyond the transparisteel parted, the planets of the Coruscant System rushing into focus as she felt a tremor in the Force. Beside her, Tuvee worked away, imputing her Master’s request into the ship’s computer. A frown on her lips, the apprentice turned her eyes toward the direction of Coriolis’s quarters. What she had felt had shocked her. A near tranquil calm had settled over her Master… surviving only for a fraction of a second before the hammer of his anger utterly shattered the sensation, slamming through the peace of the moment. As she opened herself to feel the exquisite… intensity of his rage as it boiled within him like a tempestuous force, Jaesa allowed herself a small grin. The power of Coriolis’s anger and the depths of his passion had drawn her to him, even as they now bound her to his fate. Her eyes shifted back to the transparisteel, watching as the gas giant, Stentat, loomed before them. Whatever her Master’s aims on Coruscant, she was certain it had to be something on a personal level to inspire such rage. *** Qualthis T’Lin stood on the edge of an elevated platform watching the bustle of Coruscant. Even in the darkness, the planet was illuminated. Lights from millions of towers and buildings shed illumination into the air as lines of speeders and transports made their way in the pre-dawn hustle. The Lata’aran’s pale skin was framed by the light brown of hair that flowed from the central part on his head. He wore the earth-colored robes of the Jedi Order, complimented by a slender double-bladed lightsaber that hung from a simple leather belt. His green eyes reflected the light of the city around him as they took in the glory of the Republic. Rebuilding efforts were still in progress; construction droids went about their work below him, finalizing repairs to the supports of the platform. Standing between two large towers, the platform was easily 100 metres wide by 200 metres long. Along its durasteel frame, large planters held various exotic trees and bushes. The center of the platform was nearly bisected by large islands of grass and vegetation, helping to ease the flow of foot traffic into lanes on either side of the grass. Several walkways connected to the platform, one larger such conduit leading to the Senate Hall. There was a small flow of traffic behind Qualthis, a few dozen emissaries and couriers going about their business before first light. Still, the Jedi tried not to pay them any attention. It had been a trying time for both he and the Order. The Jedi had reestablished the Jedi Temple on Tython, even as they unearthed the mysteries of the founding of the Order. Tython, while beautiful in its own way, would never hold a candle to Coruscant in his opinion. There was a simplistic draw to the planet, yes, but Coruscant was a focus of so much activity and intrigue that he could see no way that the Jedi could ignore it for long. Though he and his line could not part the mists of the future through the Force, he knew that eventually the Council would have to reconvene on Coruscant. They were the defenders of the Republic—it was only natural that they seat themselves at its heart. While things were slowly improving for the Republic, Qualthis’s own mind was ill at ease. Despite having long since completed his trials, there were still thoughts that penetrated the tranquility of his mind. At the core of them all was his son, Quan. It had been a long-held belief of Qualthis’s, that his son was the reason he had yet to be elevated to Master. Beyond the attachment that he felt to his child, Qualthis had sired him during his period as a Padawan Learner. It had taken all of his Master’s influence within the Council to prevent his expulsion from the Order. Even then, it tarnished his tenure with the Jedi. After Quan had been born, Qualthis was moved around the Galaxy, never allowed to remain in the same quadrant as his child or Lianna, Quan’s mother. Still, he had made several unauthorized trips to see them and spend time with his budding family. Risking further punishment from the Order, Qualthis arranged for his family to be moved to Coruscant. It had been difficult, keeping such a thing secret, and in his heart, Qualthis felt his master had known the entire time. There was no hiding it, however, when Quan’s Force sensitivity had been discovered. Pulled away to study at the Temple, Quan was separated from his mother and father, Qualthis having been ordered to report to the Rim worlds to search for a lost Jedi Knight. Through the years, he had attempted to check on his son’s progress, but was blocked at every avenue. It wasn’t until the death of Quan’s mother that he would see the child again. Lianna had passed away, victim of a speeder crash. Quan blamed his father for not being home. He blamed the Order for keeping them apart. The child’s studies nearly came to a halt as he was overcome with anger and grief. When Qualthis returned to Coruscant for Lianna’s funeral services, he found comfort in his lessons as a Jedi. He had cherished the time he had spent with her, yet did not mourn her passing. Quan, however, refused to see his father. At ten years old, the child was a bundle of rage and resentment. There was little his father could do to ease his pain. The Order cautioned Qualthis against seeing him, returning him to his duties in the Rim. The next time father and son met… did not go well. As these feelings threatened to invade his calm, Qualthis sighed and pushed them away. As much as he loved the sight of Coruscant, the planet could summon up painful memories. With a frown passing over his lips, the Jedi turned away from the platform’s edge, stepping into the growing crowd of the early morning as dignitaries and their entourages began to fill the walkways around the Senate. The Jedi’s path swept him away from the Senate building and the growing flow of foot traffic. He stepped off of the platform, making his way down a walkway toward a lower level. His stepped carried him toward a small courtyard attached to a pair of upper-class housing complexes. A small fountain decorated the center of the courtyard while two large planters stood on the north and south ends, displaying a pair of growing trees. A small selection of benches were scattered about strategically, facing both east and west to catch the sunrise and sunset, while the towering buildings stood on the north and south ends of the courtyard. It was a peaceful place, especially so early in the morning. Sunrise was still nearly an hour away, so most of the residents were either preparing or their day’s work or still sleeping. As Qualthis walked into the courtyard he noticed a blue-skinned twi’lek offer him a smile from across the way. The female was dressed in high-end formal wear, a fashionable blouse of dark gray matched with a flowing skirt of the same color. The fabric moved gracefully in the slight breeze of the courtyard, flowing against her legs and revealing the outline of a blaster pistol. The Jedi noted it in his mind as he made his way to the fountain, looking down at the calm waters. Allowing the Force to flow through him, Qualthis let himself be carried on its current. Everything seemed to come into focus around him—from the trickling drips of water to the way the twi’lek spoke into her sleeve as she turned to exit the courtyard. Narrowing his eyes, the Jedi felt a twinge of… excitement from the female while she stepped onto a walkway leading to the residence to the North. Qualthis turned his attention from her, letting the Force guide him. He could feel the threads of possibilities twist around the immediate future. It wasn’t the sudden insight of Farseeing or visions from the Force. No, his gift was more subtle. He could feel a shatterpoint approaching—rapidly. And he was the epicenter. *** On the Imperial Fury, Jaesa smiled. The communications suite of the Fury-Class Interceptor lit up as Vette’s transmission bounced through the network they had established, finally arriving at its destination. Tuvee had gone to clean a portion of the ship, leaving her in charge of the cockpit. As soon as the signal was received, Jaesa flipped a switch on the comm-board and decoded the message. “He’s in place,” came the simple transmission. Reaching out through the Force, Jaesa informed her Master, giving him a small telepathic affirmation of the signal. For a moment, she received no response. But, as she sat in the gauge-illuminated darkness of the Fury’s cockpit, she felt a surge through the Force as her master reached across the stars, sending a wave of intent to his agent on Coruscant. ***

I want to start by saying: please do NOT take a single word of this personally. I approached this with the detachment usual in workshopping a piece. As such, I focus primarily on mechanics and not on plot, as a piece this short over this event appears to be a setup for a larger piece. That being said, please, feel free to disagree with me on any of the below. I am an English and psychology major, but by no means am I infallible or always 100% correct. Plot Plot-- The plot was, indeed, easy to follow. However, the attack on the imperial outpost has the trappings of a setup for a future story, so anything on memorability and originality, etc, seems as if it would be a bit premature at this point. However, I will say this—if you want to have a vital, visceral sense of combat and war, it can be recommended that a victory should cost the characters involved something. This seemed a bit cut and dry for the main characters, leaving one to believe that the victory was inevitable and not difficult. To show a victory is hard-won, or something of the sort, there must be some loss on the end of the characters—be it a friend, fleshed-out ally, or the like. Characters Note on characters-- Opening characters not described, prompting the view of the stereotypical trooper and jedi knight—race was not even stated, making it difficult later on to make the mental transition to the described characters. The lack of description on the characters made them feel 2 dimensional. There were no real senses of personal ticks or small details that can make one unique from the other. Yes, there was characterized dialogue and responses, but beyond that point, there was no feel of difference on an appearance scale. Style I apologize, but I am forgoing the given items on style to favor an approach more geared toward mechanics and sentence logistics. “They turned together in the bright midday light towards the grey ridge where the soldier had come from. In fact the whole of the planet was grey. The plains were grey, the mountains were grey, the lakes were a lighter shade of blue-grey.” In passages like the above, it is important to note both flow and punctuation within the statement. This is obviously meant to convey the monotony of the planet’s environment, which is perfectly fine. However, in doing so, while the desire may be to relay a mediocre moment, two things are done that shatter the illusion. The first is the dramatic image of two comrades turning toward their destination while bathed in the light of the sun. This is a drastic contrast to the blandness of the environment given in the next two sentences. Opening sentences such as this should be when the situation calls for it or the setting applies itself to the description. The second is the punctuation a more basic question of style. The first sentence ends in a preposition. While this may take the tone of a cliché argument, in this case we can see how it leaves the sentence ending on an awkward tone. Perhaps something along the lines of: “The two turned together in the afternoon sun, toward the path the soldier had traveled.” – Or some such; this is just a quick and dirty example, not a final “this is what it should be.” Along these lines we also see “The plains were gray, the mountains were gray, the lakes were a lighter shade of blue-gray.” The repetition in this, while used to show a sense of the monotony of the color, can hamper the sentence. However, there are ways to help it flow better with word choices, or, if the particular color gray is not as important, we can scrap the gray monotone entirely and focus on showing the environs as bland in other ways. If you want to stay with this, I would suggest fixing punctuation a little—an “and” after the last comma, for example; or perhaps a simple “even,” instead. This list can also be punctuated by semicolon instead of a comma, being a list. As a final warning on repetition: beware article repetition. Even articles such as “the” and “a” can break the flow of the sentence with too much repeating. Dialogue tags—do not forget the importance of placing dialogue tags to identify speakers. The first dialogue after the paragraphs with the above sentences has a confusing launch point for dialogue. It is far more prevalent to identify the speaker after the dialogue spoken, unless the link between the two is very close. In situations such as this: “’I’m sorry Tenner, I didn’t know.” Rettan intoned as he gently touched the corporal’s shoulder” – we have two instances of improper punctuation to look over; the first is at the end of the dialogue quotation marks. Instead of a period, there should be a comma. (i.e. “I’m sorry, Tenner, I didn’t know,” rettan intoned…). Additionally, at the end of the sentence, there is a lack of a punctuation stop. The period is missing. A word on language—the “*” used to block out letters within curse words is quite distracting. I haven’t tried posting without them (I haven’t posted anything with swearing in it yet), but this does take away from the seriousness of the dialogue when it is used. A word on sound effects and writing: try to avoid placing a sound effect before a sentence describing it. Sometimes you can get the best mental image of the sound without even going into the actual “word” for the sound. If you do not feel you can, generally we see them used in the following formula: sound introduction-> sound word. For example: “Tenner’s boot struck the armor over the soldier’s ribs in a resounding thud” or the like. Be careful with switching tenses in a story. If you start as past, remain in past; if you switch to present it can disrupt the flow. This is a very common mistake (and can be one difficult to fix) seen in internet roleplayers. I suffer from this myself. In particular, here is an entry from the story so you can see what I mean: “The blaster fire had become a steady stream now (Indicates present tense), arcing back and forth (Indicates present tense action), soldiers from both sides ducking desperately, seeking cover. Rettan continued his own running advance (Indicates present tense), deflecting blaster (Indicates present tense) fire rhythmically with his lightsaber as he rushed (indicates past tense) on. As he approached (indicates past tense)the shattered gate, from the line out of the unfolding carnage and smoke stepped (indicates past tense) out a Sith.” Beyond all the above drivel, the story seems to be starting to shape itself well. Nicely done.

Story Title: The Writings of Lord Coriolis of the Tal'mahe'Ra Link: Link Author's name: Qualthis In-game class of the main character: Sith Marauder

I saw this thread while casually cruising through the various posts today after making a small update of my own. After a moment, I thought: why not? So, here I am. Hello, everyone. For a small bit of background on me: I've been a very large fan of star wars since I was a kid (as I'm sure many have). As a writer, my tendencies have always been bent toward horror and science fiction, with the occasional meandering into fantasy and dark fantasy. With Star Wars, however, it is a bit of a joy to delve into such a detailed and complicated world. For the moment, I have been spending my free time at work writing up my main, Coriolis, and his views on various topics relating to all things Sith. I'm sure I'll see you all around-- and you'll be plagued by the semi-weekly update on Coriolis's dedicated thread. Adieu.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me. These words are a mantra to apprentices on Korriban; those that prove worthy of their lessons, of course. Originally a call and answer technique used by instructors to drill the words into the heads of their pupils, I have seen such drastic misinterpretations of a code that seems so simple to understand. I have mentioned in my previous writings that control is paramount to a Sith. A true Sith is in control of his emotions, using them as a surgeon uses a scalpel. Apprentices and the uninitiated use their emotions like a cudgel, beating down his enemy without finesse, without the understanding of what it is he is summoning. These ‘students’ fall prey to their own emotions. They are unable to master them and are, in turn, mastered by them. To dissect the Sith code, one has to understand its opposite, the Jedi Code. The Code of the Jedi was put into place to simplify the core tenants of the Jedi Order. The Jedi use the Force for Knowledge and Defense, never for personal gain, power, or revenge. Their code reflects this— There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. In comparing the first lines of the codes, it becomes quite apparent where one of the largest differences between the two factions lies: emotion. It is the very opening statement of both codes that shows how important the concept of emotion is to each faction. The Jedi seek to maintain inner peace despite emotion. It is not to say that they do not feel emotion—all organic, sentient beings feel emotion to one extent or another. However, the Jedi maintain that it is best to set aside, or work through such emotion in order to neutralize it and not allow it to taint the calm, or peace, of one’s mind. This is paramount to the Jedi Order. The Sith, however, know that this is pointless. Passions give strength. Passions give resolve. Passions embody all it is to be alive. This is not to say that there is no place for a calm mind, or rational thinking; or to say that one must be in the thrall of passion at all times. No, this, too, would be a mistake. The Sith understand that at the core of every emotional being is passion. It empowers us and drives us to perfection. The Jedi code vastly differs from the Sith after the first line, still, let us look deeper into this writing. There is no ignorance, only knowledge—an interesting statement, and one that even Sith could understand. We seek knowledge, as do the Jedi… however, we do not shy away from it, nor do we lock it away out of fear as the Jedi do. There is certain knowledge that the Jedi Council sees as ‘dangerous’ and off limits to padawan, and even Jedi Knights. Most of this revolves around the Sith and Dark Jedi lore. In this, the Council keeps its subordinates ignorant of the teachings of alternative theories on the Force. There is no passion, there is serenity—Passion is what gives us power. As long as the Jedi deny this, they will always be at a disadvantage to us. The Jedi deny their passions and their emotions because they fear that attachment or emotional instinct would lead one to follow a path to the Dark Side. In seeking serenity and harmony (as the next line states), the Jedi Council seeks to cater to the lowest common denominator. They do discourage using ambition and will to rise above one’s station and seek power. This would create what they call Chaos. It would shatter their precious balance of power. No, the Jedi seek serenity not out of an altruistic bent, but to maintain control, to create a status quo. There is no chaos, there is harmony—and we find the wishful thinking of the Jedi… They wish for all beings to live in harmony and peace. This is a delusion. As long as there remains the possibility for power over another being there will always be someone who covets said power—and there will always be someone who gains it. By trying to change this, the Jedi, and republic, not only create a bureaucratic nightmare of a government, but one that is ultimately ineffectual. There is no death, there is the Force—we know of Force Spirits and the Jedi belief of becoming one with the Force. Still, that this is a tenant of the code only shows their ultimate fear of death, and their attempt to alleviate this fear in their padawans. ‘Do not fear death, there is only the Force’ reeks of suicidal brainwashing. Whereas a Jedi may accept death, a Sith will rage with all his strength to remain alive. Now that we have delved over the Jedi Code… what of the Sith? What of our emotions? As the Sith Code makes it plain, we thrive on our emotions and our passions. We allow them to flow through us freely. We enjoy them. We utilize them. But… we do not fall prey to them. There are those apprentices that believe that the Sith Code encourages one to let his passions rule him, that the strength given to one using them to command the force makes them undefeatable and frees them from any concerns. A Sith who reads such into the Code is a Sith that is not long for this existence. Sith do not lose control. A true Sith is always in control of his emotions, riding them as a beast, using them to take him to heights of his power, yet releasing them before they drag him down into oblivion. I feel anger, yet I focus it and use it to command the Force with an indomitable will. I feel fear, yet I channel it into action against that which threatens me. I feel rage, yet when it threatens to take me under its thrall, I unleash it against my enemies. I feel ambition, yet I use a thinking mind in deciding how to direct my ambition. I am not a slave to my emotions. My emotions serve me. Peace is a Lie. We hold this truth as self-evident. Predator and Prey have no peace treaties in the wild. It is by nature that beings seek dominion over their surroundings, and it is by that same nature that they have conflict with those who would intrude upon their domain or their lives. There is no peace in nature. The universe devours civilizations whole. Does a star consider a peace treaty when it engulfs the planets in its orbit? Yet, it is a cause of irony to me that the Jedi sit in contemplation of peace while in natural surroundings, as if there are no predators devouring prey or culling the weak from their pack. There is only Passion. As I have already stated, within Passion lies the strength of the Sith. It is taught to the lowliest of apprentices and hopefuls. Through passion, I gain strength. The power of emotion is something that cannot be underestimated. I have watched a Jedi’s padawan attempt time and time again to lift a stone blocking his path through serenity and a calm heart. He failed. Repeatedly. However, with some gentle prodding, he allowed his frustrations to grow and focused them as anger took his heart. Unleashing his will, amplified by the heat of his anger allowed him to summon the strength to bend the Force to his will, hurling the stone several yards away. The anger, this rage, allowed him the will and strength to push him beyond his limits and achieve what was needed. The Jedi would deny this strength. We would embrace it. Through strength, I gain power. Strength and power. Apprentices around the Korriban Academy always speak of gaining power or growing stronger. They have raw ambition toward these goals… but to what end? To have strength and power without a goal is akin to being king over a field of only grass and rock—it matters for nothing. A Sith has the power to change and shape the Galaxy… but so many apprentices cannot see beyond their fists. It is a shame, to be plain. This strength, this power that the Sith so rightly claim, ends in the hands of so many inept thugs with no sight beyond the glorification of their own names. These are not Sith… these are Dark Jedi who labor in ignorance of what power truly means. Through power, I gain victory. Victory without a goal and reason is as hollow as power without the same. It is meaningless. However, with the power of the Dark Side as his most devastating weapon, and with his passions mastered and focused, a Sith will never meet an enemy he is incapable of defeating. However… much to dismay of many murdering Apprentices… it is not how many people you achieve victory over or kill… it is who you kill. If a victory does not prove the superiority of a Sith, and does not further his aims… it is a pointless victory and matters for nothing. I may slay one hundred enemies, but if I do not slay the one that matters the most, nothing I have done is worthwhile. Prattling lips and rumors of strength are as nothing when compared to actual victory. Killing a rival’s henchmen does not matter if you fail to kill the rival himself- unless the acts prove superiority to your foe, placing him off balance. Through victory, my chains are broken. So many mistake this single line into meaning that the Sith will break all boundaries at a whim, that no constraints or rules can hold us. While this may be true, it is not the meaning of this entry. A true Sith seeks perfection—both through the Force and through his actions. He seeks to become a perfect being… Sith’ari, free of all restrictions. This does not mean the freedom to go about slaughtering and enslaving. A goal of the like is pointless and beneath notice. No, this means we are free of the limitations and restrictions of lesser beings. That we become more than mere vessels to the Force. It is the end of all limitation and the achievement of perfection. The Force shall free me. The Force. Our vehicle to perfection. Our weapon. Our most trusted ally. Through the Force the Sith will attain strength, power, victory, and freedom from limitation. Through our passions, we will overcome all set before us. To be true Sith is to strive for perfection. It is to shatter the limitations placed upon you by outdated morality and sense of chivalry. To be Sith is to attain the unattainable and push beyond what lesser beings cannot fathom. We seek our answers in the darkest corners of the Galaxy and of ourselves—places others fear to tread are where we grow strong and thrive. We do not fear the darkness—we understand it and bend it to our will. The Jedi crafted their Code to set limitation and understanding. They use it as an excuse to deny themselves both true life and true power. The Sith created their code to free themselves of such trifles and to remind themselves that, armed with their passions, nothing is beyond their grasp.

Someone mention an OOC channel?

Sounds like fun. Name: Coriolis Faction: Empire Class: Sith Marauder

My apprentice came to me one day as we traveled through hyperspace on our way to Nar Shaddaa. She seemed disturbed, and as I ceased my meditation on the Dark Side, I informed her that I could sense her unease—she wore it on her sleeve, plain to see. She asked me about love. The Jedi strongly frown upon emotional attachment, especially romantic feelings. Still finding her way through the maze of her own emotions, she asked me: do the Sith love? As Sith, our journey is one of self-realization. To seek perfection, and freedom through that perfection, is a path that is often very personal, yet for Sith, has many external manifestations. We challenge ourselves, we overcome, or… we die. Do the Sith love? To be certain, there are many who have fallen from the Light for this emotion… and due to its loss. I have witnessed ‘upstanding’ Jedi Knights fall after witnessing a loved one murdered or tortured. We utilize this emotion against our enemies, but do we feel its pull ourselves? There are times that Sith will grow attached to another being. There are even times when such closeness can develop into what one might call love. However, these things are best kept hidden. I have personally seen Lords kill those close to rivals to unbalance them before striking. So, while the Sith can feel love, it is almost universally regarded as a weakness that can be used against them. As such, it is to be avoided. However, there have been Sith who have seen to the murder or slaying of those closest to them in order to feed upon the pain and anger that it stirs within them. In this way, they turn their weakness into a considerable strength. After informing my apprentice of this, I turned to her and asked: do you love? She answered that she did. I then instructed her to go forth and slay that which she loved… or I would do it for her. Imagine my surprise when, upon our arrival at Nar Shaddaa, she slew an Imperial informant that she had been frequenting on our visits. When she returned to me, I asked her again if she felt love. She told me she felt only pain and anger. The lesson was thus learned.

Refinements- I wrote my ‘Treatise’ after spending a great deal of time studying the writings of several of the former Grandmasters of my brotherhood, primarily those of Grandmasters Semulun and Qianna. Among the Tal’mahe’Ra, several of our Grandmasters were proponents of the Unifying Force, and at least two were killed by the Sith Order for their work and pushing of the subject. I, too, have to wonder, looking back, how such a philosophy blossomed in the hearts of those who would leave themselves to lead a brotherhood of Sith aimed at holding the tenants and truths of the Sith beliefs close to their hearts. We live in an Order where the Dark Side is used and in some cases, nearly worshipped. On all worlds and in many societies where one religious or philosophical viewpoint holds sway, any dissention or variation can be grounds for calls of heresy and exile or death. Our society is no different. This belief in the ‘Unifying Force’ is an interesting one, to be certain. One of our brotherhood, Feron, sought to merge a view of this theory with that of the Sith. Feron was one of the Grandmasters of the Tal’mahe’Ra, in fact, he was the Grandmaster of the brotherhood before I. Feron met his end nearly twenty years ago on Dromund Kaas while seeking out lost lore of the former Sith Lord Revan. It was on that very planet that I first uncovered the Tal’mahe’Ra. It seemed to be a natural draw to our brotherhood, a draw that stemmed from more than its mere existence as the capital of the Empire. I first uncovered the writings of Qianna on Dromund Kaas, in a hidden temple, scattered among the ruins of the ancient stones. She was not entombed there, but seemed to have spent a great deal of time among its walls. Her writings, along with my own duties to my Master at the time, led to me encountering a Cult worshipping the life of Revan. Among these ‘Revanites’ I found more clues to the existence of the Tal’mahe’Ra. In fact, one of Feron’s former disciples hid among them. By the time I had left the Revanites, I had been initiated into the Tal’mahe’Ra. But, it was a brotherhood without leadership; one without direction. During my time on Dromund Kaas, I grew to know the network of the brotherhood, and began my rise to power within it. Through the help of Scelecious and Visacious, I managed to wrest control of the goup out of the chaos it had lain in since the death of Feron. By the time my travels would take me offworld, I had established control over the Tal’mahe’Ra, making contact with some of its non-force using allies. In this time of war—as ‘peaceful’ as this ceasefire after the treaty has been, I cannot do any less. As my travels would take me around the Galaxy, I found myself with a great deal of time to contemplate the words of Qianna and Feron. I delved into Imperial Databases for files on the other leaders of the brotherhood, spanning from Feron, to Qianna, to Juvia, and even back to Deviac, the founder of the Tal’mahe’Ra during the days of the Jedi Civil War. Through this research, I discovered that the Revanites and the Tal’mahe’Ra have always held a close bond, as Deviac was one of the many followers who fought and killed under both Revan and Malak. He was no exceptional individual, no hero of the war. However, what he did was memorable nonetheless. Deviac brought together the first of the brotherhood. After the ‘redemption’ of Revan, however, there were many among the Tal’mahe’Ra who were lost. How could the most powerful of us in memory return to the light? Thus began the fall of the brotherhood into attempts to reconcile the Dark Side with what Revan had ultimately done. Thus, the Tal’mahe’Ra falls into a similar pattern as the Revanites. There have been internal battles and purges regarding the purity of the Sith way and the views on the Unifying Force. Some Lords of the brotherhood were outright murdered during council meetings in order to purge the Unifying Force theory from the Tal’mahe’Ra. Still, it would never last. Our relationship with the Revanites grew slightly closer and we pulled away, in my belief, from our true purpose. Indeed, even I have felt the pull of Grandmaster Qianna’s words on the Unifying Force. However, during my journey to gaining the title of Sith Lord, I have to question such things. It has been through the Dark Side that I have found the path to power. It has been through the Dark Side that I have corrupted servants of the Light and cast them into the depths of their own weakness. Padawan, Jedi Knights, even a Master have been forced to fall from the Light by my words and actions. In fact, my own apprentice was brought to serve the Sith through a fall to the Dark orchestrated by my hand. Still… the question of free will remains. Ask any Lord of the Sith if he is in control of himself, or if the Dark Side forces his hand… if you survive the experience, you will undoubtedly be informed that the former is the case. How, then, can we say that the Dark Side is a separate part of the Force? How can we say that the theory of the Unifying Force is not the truth? Sith doctrine points to the Dark Side as the path to freedom and that it can lure even the most stalwart of Jedi Masters. It is spoken of as a corrupting Force, that places of power in the Dark Side, by their mere existence, can pull a Jedi from the Light. It is my belief that the Dark Side has a seductive call. It thrives off of emotion and passion and is just as potent, if not more so, as the Light. Still, it is but a tool. Our blaster pistol to our opponent’s plow shear, if you will. I still believe that the Force amplifies what is at the core of an individual, that this is the ultimate compass by which one sails. However, the addictions of following one’s passions, of seeing death take over an enemy’s eyes, or the fear brought on by displays of pure power, is a great lure and pull indeed. Combined with the power the Dark Side places at one’s fingertips, I can see why the Jedi fear ‘corruption’ from its secrets. Still, even among the Sith, we have cause to be concerned with those that fall too far into their passions to maintain control. Such was my concern with my apprentice at first, but she seems to be gaining discipline in regards to using her emotions. She must still learn to savor them, to feed off of them as opposed to simply sating each whim as it takes hold. It is from individuals who fail to maintain control of themselves that I believe the Sith Order has the most to fear. It is why the Tal’mahe’Ra must safeguard our traditions and lore. It is why we stand a brotherhood within the Sith, to kill or depose of those who would cause our works and beliefs to fall into ruin. There is nothing to beware in the Dark Side, save what you bring with yourself.

Treatise on the nature of the Force by Coriolis That nature of the Force is a thing that has long been studied by scholars on both extremes—both the Jedi and Sith have sought to increase their understanding of its nature and existence. Going back millennia upon millennia, the Force was divided into two halves: the Light Side and the Dark Side as we term them now. The Light Side was seen to be benevolent and peaceful, as the Dark Side was seen to be malevolent and violent. However, is this classification accurate? Can something as prevalent as the Force be so easily divided by lines of sentient senses of morality and ethics? Such a topic was once a heated area of debate. Additionally, it is something I wish to address in this writing. Sentient beings still struggle with morality on a daily basis, how is it to be that Jedi and Sith are any different? Ah, but the Jedi would call it easy—that those who fall prey to their emotions are tainted by the Dark Side and must be redeemed or neutralized. Would that things were so simple. In this writing I will examine the divide between the Light Side and the Dark Side and the role that individual will plays in such things. Additionally, since it has been linked to ‘corruption’ by the Dark Side, we will discuss the physical manifestations apparent in those close to and powerful in the Dark Side. It has been said that the Dark Side twists the minds and, eventually, the bodies of those who call upon it too frequently. This physical corruption, it is said, can be seen as the changing of eye color, loss of skin pigmentation, darkening of veins. While these signs are evident among those powerful in the Force and the ‘Dark Side,’ I believe that these things have a much simpler explanation than both Jedi and most Sith are willing to admit. Let us start with the nature of corruption and individual choice, shall we? For millennia, the Jedi have warned padawans of the corrupting nature and lure of the so-called Dark Side. They have stated that this well of darkness and destruction would creep into the hearts of Force-sensitive beings, influencing their actions and slowly bringing them into a downward spiral of depravity and violence. Is this true? Is the ‘Dark Side’ truly a seductive force of nature that pulses through the energies of negative emotions, corrupting all it touches? Or is it merely a reflection of the inner nature of the individual? This is a subject that has long been at the edge of the minds of scholars of the Force throughout the ages. Despite the relatively rigid lines erected between behavior and conduct considered to be of the Light and that considered to be of the Dark, does the individual will play a part, or is it subsumed by the will of either side of the Force? The thought of the Unifying Force pushes us to realize that the Force merely exists. It permeates and binds everything from the largest gas giant to the smallest molecule. This we know. It is by adjusting these flows of energy and relationships between the Force and objects it touches that allows us, for example, to life a rock or a starfighter without touching it physically. Having gone through Jedi teachings before dedicating myself to the Sith and the Emperor, I was instructed from a young age to seek serenity in the Force, to strengthen myself against my emotions; it is to allow the Force to flow through oneself without being tainted by strong emotion. Fear. Anger. Jealously. Rage. These things are considered to be the pathways to darkness by the Jedi Order. Yet, even ‘positive’ emotions, such as love and attachment are to be avoided, lest they prompt one to call upon the powers of the Dark Side. Compassion is encouraged, but a Jedi is held to be detached from emotion to bring justice and peace. This is a naïve point of view, as the Sith know. These emotions are all a natural part of living. Even in those who do not feel a connection to the Force experience these things. They are like breathing. The power of emotions is plain to even mundane men and women. All sentient beings experience strong emotion in one sense or another. These emotions have allowed them to survive when they would perish. They allow them to hold on to what is important to them and rise to great heights and fall to devastating lows. Differences in these cases seem to be a simple matter of controlling one’s emotions rather than allowing them to control the individual. To that point, we can attribute the Jedi admonition against emotion to be due to the issue of control. In this, the Sith and Jedi are alike, as heretical as it may sound. We both seek control. A Sith who is controlled by his emotions is a Sith soon to die. However, unlike the Jedi, we embrace our reality as emotional beings. We recognize the strength inherent in such things and use it to make ourselves more powerful. We do not shy away from rage or pain… we embrace it, we use it to make ourselves stronger. Passion and emotion have long been sources of control for many civilizations. The use of Psychological Warfare proves this. By controlling emotion, a government can control the populace. The most obvious use of this tactic is seen even in Imperial movements—we control rebellious populace through fear; where we cannot, we give a show of force to destroy opposition and create fear and by this, we gain compliance. Does this mean that non-Force users are of the Dark Side? It does not. Not even a Jedi would make that claim. However, should a Force-user use such emotions to gain power, the Jedi would label him a Dark Sider and deal with him accordingly (be it ‘redemption’ or death). The view of the Living Force requires Jedi to make this distinction. It requires them to believe that negative emotions take control of an individual through the ‘Dark Side’ and twists them, corrupting them by their own choices. I will take a moment to allow the contradiction of that statement to settle in. Corruption by their own choices. Taken over by the Dark Side… through their own choices. This is evidence that there is no malevolent will at work—the individual has chosen, and can chose to attempt ‘redemption.’ This latter belief is one that the Jedi use whenever they try to bring someone back to the ‘light.’ It all revolves around personal choice. Given this… how can the supposed Dark Side maintain hold on someone if it is that individual’s own decisions that damn or redeem them in the eyes of the Jedi? This hypocrisy is apparent to even the lowliest of apprentices among the Sith. True, the ‘lure of the Dark Side’ can hold sway. But, that this be attributed to an actual pull or influence on the part of the Force, or is it merely addiction to the power that comes from using emotion? The exhilaration of using an irresistible force to work your will? The natural rush of adrenaline that comes when you know you are about to indulge in your most base of urges? There are non-force-sensitive soldiers that do battle on both sides in the war that love the thrill of battle and bringing ruin to their enemies. Are these individuals in the thrall of the Dark Side, or do they merely enjoy what they do and take pleasure from it? Perhaps the Force simply is. The Force has no preference on light or dark. The Force has no dictates on how it is to be used. The Force has no hold over the individual—no more than a blaster pistol has a hold on the hand that wields it. What we ultimately find is that individual choice takes hold. A Force-user can choose to be chained by the confines of the Jedi Order… or he can choose to follow the true path to freedom among the Sith. The Dark Side no more instills a desire for devastation in an individual any more than the Light Side instills a sense of compassion in one. This drive rests within the individual. Were we to give a blaster pistol to a pacifist, the pistol would not automatically make him a murderer. On the same token, should we place a tome in the hands of a mass murderer, it would not automatically make him a scholar. This is a function of individual choice. Should we provoke the pacifist, whether he gives in and uses the pistol or not is a function of his own desires. The pistol is merely a tool, an avenue with which to express the desires and urges within him. It is the same with the Force. Grant a pacifist the ability to wield the Force or a mass murderer the ability to feel and alter its flow, we would see the above hold true. The pacifist would use the tool granted to him to further expand his natural tendencies… the murderer would now have a new weapon with which to ply his trade. The Force does not treat one differently than the other. The Jedi would have one believe that Balance is the natural state of the Force; that it strives toward the Light, while the Dark is as a cancer upon the Galaxy. Ignoring the blatant hypocrisy in such a statement about ‘Balance,’ one would have to ask: if the Force were so inclined to favor one side over the other, then how is it that Sith Lords rival Jedi Masters in power and understanding of the Force? How is it that the Jedi have never ultimately won their war against the Sith or Dark Siders? To be certain, there have been victories for the Jedi and the Republic, but do we not always return? The embarrassing truth to the Jedi is: the Force does not favor one side over the other, just as the blaster pistol does not favor the hand of the pacifist over the hand of the murderer. A tool remains a tool regardless of who uses it and for what ends. Many Sith adhere to a belief similar to that of the Living Force. They use the Dark Side, and call upon the powers of their emotions. Yet, this is only a surface similarity to the Jedi philosophy. Ah, but what of the physical effects of using the Dark Side, as mentioned earlier? This is a simple thing to explain. As Sith, we draw heavily upon the Force, using the strength of our passions to amplify our power. As living bodies, we are conduits for the Force, grasping it as it flows around us, bending it to our will, and funneling that tremendous power through our being. Inquisitors, Warriors… it makes no difference, we are channels to the Force. Our strength, our passions, our raw power within the Force fills our beings. This is not without consequence. The fact that the Force can have an effect on the physical body is well documented, from effects of Sith Alchemy, to applications of the Force to enhance our own bodies. When a conduit has too much energy streaming through it, it can become damaged. This is akin to what happens to Sith as we draw upon our powers to achieve our goals. This channeling of raw power affects us, from our eyes to our pigmentation. We are harnessing pure power from the Force, amplifying it by our passions, and channeling it through our bodies. It is only natural that our bodies become altered in some ways by this irresistible energy. But, why, you may say, do the Jedi not suffer such side effects? The answer to this is simple as well. The Sith take the Force, we mold it to our will, we shape our destinies from it with the potent powers of our passions. We make the Force serve us as any other tool. The Jedi allow the Force to flow through them, subtly directing it toward their will. They are the boat floating down the current of the river… we are the boat that travels under its own power. It is not so ironic, then, that when the Jedi attempt to grasp the Force and bend it to their will that they are cautioned against the Dark Side. It is all a matter of control. The Jedi Council fears its padawans taking their own initiatives and making their own agendas. They fear to one day awaken and find their carefully crafted rules lying in tatters around their burning temples. They fear padawans realizing that they can control their own destinies if they but reach out and take the initiative. There are reasons why Jedi are spoon fed their lessons in the Force. They are chained. They are blinded to the truth whereas the Sith are forced to make their own way, to learn and grow under their own power. Our passions and will free us while the Jedi are slaves to their dogma and the fear of their masters. It all falls to individual choice.

(Hey, all, this is going to be a small series of entries performed by my Sith Lord, Coriolis- Ebon Hawk server. Any comments or critiques are more than welcome! Thank you.)