The silence of the stars was deafening. The darkness of the void was akin to drowning beneath dark waves. The hiss of the shuttle appears to be the Sith's only companion in these final and fleeting moments of lucidity. All that he felt was rage, an uncontrolled and burning fury akin to the hellish fires of damnation. It's a bitter feeling, something that contrasts the ice of the Dark Side so harshly, and yet compliments it all the same. Sol doesn't look back, doesn't care. He would not be a pawn in the games of the Force, he would forge his own path through blood and rage.
The air in the shuttle's cabin feels as if it is choking him, but Sol had never been a man to make decisions in halfs. He had always given missions and quests his all, every part of him, even if it meant leaving some of himself behind. It seemed that this would be no different. Sol had left his strongholds behind, empty and abandoned, and soon, he would cross the borders of Imperial Space, and into the void beyond.
@Xorism
The air in the shuttle's cabin feels as if it is choking him, but Sol had never been a man to make decisions in halfs. He had always given missions and quests his all, every part of him, even if it meant leaving some of himself behind. It seemed that this would be no different. Sol had left his strongholds behind, empty and abandoned, and soon, he would cross the borders of Imperial Space, and into the void beyond.
@Xorism