Hatred is a virtue.
Ithor, a world that had been attacked by Raze. The Sith Lord had brought death to the Jedi and ruin to their temple. The world had recovered under the tender attentions of the peaceful Ithorian herds and Jedi who took back up postings there. So long as the tree of life blossomed, Ithor would rejuvenate itself.
That wasn’t acceptable.
Transports touched down in groves across the world but three landed at the Tree of Life’s grove. Ithorians gathered around the vessel to greet the pilgrims they believed to be getting ready to disembark. But when the ramps lowered, it wasn’t pilgrims the Ithorians faced. Instead, it was a mix of battle droids that fired indiscriminately into the Ithorians and Epicanthnx warriors that charged out behind them. Many died in the first volley as the droids marched out. While the Epicanthnx pursued and butchered the slow, old, and wounded.
Death had come to Ithor.
A pair of figures steadily walked from the disembarkation ramp. Karys paid no heed to the dying civilians around him, is golden eyes were focused on the massive Tree of Life. He would corrupt the Tree, and kill its defenders, its roots would spread the corruption of the Dark Side throughout this world. Ithor would suffer his wrath, the first of many worlds that would taste it.
As he marched towards the Tree of Life, he drew Sadowbane from its sheathe. He gripped it tightly in his golden prosthetic hand both of his hands were covered by his beskar vambrace. On the back of his belt, nestled horizontally, was the hilt of his lightsaber. The rest of his form was covered by black robes.
Hatred is a virtue. The words echoed in his mind.
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