<font size="1">Excerpt taken from Endgame: The Dark Side of Democracy</font>
"Do you not realize? The Gungan race has been destroyed, their last city fallen. Theed burns, the lauded Jedi Praexium tainted by the Sith and yet you still think you have the right of place to act as the protectors of the innocent?

Ha! You failed! Every single one of you."




Failure.


Failure.


Failure.


The Jedi had failed, totally and utterly. They had failed in their duty to themselves, and to their fellow inhabitants of the planet Naboo. While the New Jedi Order was not the same as the old order, protectors of the galaxy, and veritable arm of the law for the Old Republic, people still expected them to do something to defend them, even protect themselves.

And they had Failed. The Naboo Sith Order had run rampant, killing gungans, wreaking havoc everywhere, with impunity. Only with outside aid were the Jedi capable of withstanding their assault. Led by Gash Jiren, the Rouge Jedi Order returned to Naboo in aid of the Jedi Order, swinging the battle's momentum, terminating the onward thrust by the Sith.


The Jedi died that day.

Died in the eyes of the people of the Galaxy, and in their own eyes.

Their leaders vanished. The great Organa Solo seemingly dropping off the galactic map. Azalin, rumored to have left the Order vowing never to return. Some even said she had joined a Demon from the ranks of the Sith, and had aided in killing the Gungans.

But then, some said she flew, and walked through walls.

The Jedi Order struggled from that day on, nearing extension - eradication.





<font size="2" face="Times New Roman">For years they had waited, lurked, and watched. They had prepared, training themselves for this very day … or a day very much like this one.

With the decimation of the Jedi Order, the darkside began to grow stronger, stronger than ever before. Even stronger than the great Sith War. If you were sensitive to the force, you could feel it. At the back of your mind, a tingling, a burning sensation, a foretelling of doom building on the horizon.

The Sith were re-forming, their numbers strengthening, their power growing strong again. United under a new Dark Lord, they had thus far avoided strife.

And thus, from the shadows emerged the avengers, warriors with an adgenda all their own. The spread of the darkside would not be tolerated any longer.

The Shadow Jedi have awoken.

<font size="7" face="Times New Roman">~</font>

"…The beings you will face are formidable, they enjoy a good killing and will not hesitate to take you alive for a flay later in the week. Exact extreme caution once on the planet…."

"…The easiest, and safest way onto the planet are through these transports. Preliminary scouting reveals that these Sith are manufacturing Clones in great abundance. The transports go to this Moon, and then back to the planet once every few days. You will stow aboard one of the transports, and make your way from there out of the production regions and on to the main city, in which the Sith Temple is located. Enemy warriors will be plentiful, deal with them in a swift, and heavy handed manner…."

"…Your mission is simple, as you know. Enter. Destroy. Exit…."

"…You have all studied the known footage, documents, and testimonies regarding the attack on Naboo some time ago. Whatever the media may says, it was most certainly not a common terrorist attac, by wanna-be Sith. Only true Sith could have managed to almost completely annihilate an entire race of people, bring the Jedi to their knees, then apparently retreat without loosing a man. Only Sith…"</font>





With steady, even strides two figures strode over the ice, and snow that covered the planet of Khar Shian. They paused on the crest of a rift to look down upon their destination, distaste evident upon their faces. One of the men, significantly shorter than his companion, glanced up and murmured something under his breath. A gruff laugh was returned, and they resumed their steady, resolute walk. Arriving on the planet had been a harrowing experience, most certainly not a bloodless one.



"Take heed friend, I sense someone," said the tall figure. Upon his words the two men crouched in the snow.

"And I too, my companion" replied the shorter figure. "A clumsy one he is, eh Mat?"

"Aye," replied the one named Mat. "Makes enough noise for five men, Tobal." He winked.

"Six, I would say" said Tobal, returning the wink with a grin. "Is it your turn or mine?"

"Yours, I believe. I had the last two."

"Alright."

The man named Tobal stood, having drawn his weapon. Surprisingly, it was a bow of ancient technology, a straight shaft with a tough cord drawing it into an elegant arc. Tobal knocked an arrow, painted a dull grey for low visibility, and began to creep forward through the soft, penetratingly cold snow. Within a few minutes he located the producer of the offending sound, one of these "Massassi Warriors" they had been warned about. It appeared that these Warriors were clones, the all appeared to be exact duplicates of the other. Trained with limited telekinetic and sensing ability, they could be a formidable foe… if they could see their enemy.

Like a shroud, Tobal moved into position. His most practiced technique with the force was that of avoiding detection - a gift to him from his friend Vyktor. Even when looked at full on it was difficult to see him, the eye suddenly wished to wander, to slide over him and look at someone else, to forget, to not notice. He knelt, and after surveying the area about him again for several minutes, stretched his bow and pointed the tip of its deadly projectile at the lone patrolling Massassi clone.

The bolt entered the left eye of its target, bursting the ball before scrambling some brains and exiting forcefully through the bone on the other side. The "warrior" dropped without a sound, his head a bloody mess.

"All clear," said Tobal as he adjusted his bow on his back. "Shall we continue? We have but a little while left to go."

"Your little while always seems to be miles to me Tobal. Have a heart."

"We have a schedule."

"Yeah, whatever."


*


Tobal gestured with a mock bow to his companion, his left hand showing the way to a rather large pipe.
"In there, and then we start having fun."

"Sewage… couldn't you have chosen a better entrance?"

"All the good entrances were taken by people senior to us."

"I know." The man named Mat pulled out a small device, less than five centimeters across, and activated it. A small click was heard, and he looked to his companion. "Checked in. Let's rock."

Silus moved slow and with silence as many people surrounding him ran past, moving to their positions. Silus had grown used to this during the time he spent on the ship, used to the rushing crowds. His hand silently checked his items as he continued to move forward. In the other, a large briefcase of some sort, not much different then what engineer personel carried their tools in.

He durasteel door hissed open as he entered the hanger, and gazed at the ship. He then continued on, and entered. He made multiple checks as he went to make sure everything would work. He had no space for failure, and he wouldn't tolerate any.

After all had exited the hanger, the large doors in front of him slowly moved upon. When he was cleared, he exited. He gazed out of the cockpit at the large ship as he disappeared into hyperspace, and then he began to make his own preparations.

The cold wind whipped the brown jedi cloaks of the Jedi Master Odon Baas. He felt a chill run up the base of his spine, feeling the darkness concealed on this icy moon. For months teams of spies and smugglers had sent Odon information on the protocol the sith were using for clone transport, a major cog in their economy.

Details began to emerge of automation and massassi control, quite typical for sith, who always seemed to be plagued by conquest and death. Now it seems their arrogance had left the jedi with an opportunity. He knew the Dark Circle was comprised of a shadowy triumvirate, men of unspeakable evil. This sect chose the Dark lord of the Sith, who as of yet, remained an enigma to all the jedi, opting to hide and conceal his presence.

His green eyes looked at his new companions as his black boots crunched the ice beneath his feet.

I must remind you Tobal Hadul that I do not take life unless all other paths have been explored. As leader of the Jedi Praxeum, I have joined this crusade to cripple and eliminate the sith threat but to kill without concern for the balance of the force is unthinkable.

The regal master stood silent, thinking, ready to take this war to the sith.

The transport system is simple. Every hour they fly back to the planet for supplies and clones if ready. This system is automated and as such should be easy to comprimise. However, I must deactivate the power generator which is located in the main cloning facility, this will end their alchemy and stop the manufacture of Massassi. I will do this alone, while you head to the main planet. I am afraid this is where we part, I wish you well and may the force be with you; always.

Concealing his force presence, Odon Baas began the trek to the Khar Shian cloning facility, dissappearing in the vast blizzard, accompanied by the force itself.

Khar Shian

A frozen hell hole. While Many would have no reason to take this place, the sith have found one. The abundant snow was perfect to keep the generator cooled while it constantly churned out thousands of massassi at a time. The sith of The Dark Circle had built a cloning facility on Khar Shian. Cloning the legendary Massassi warriors. Great fighters under the leadership of the late Exar Kun.

But now however, they would serve the sith of TDC. Within one of the many cloning chambers, a figure clad in flowing white robes appeared. Standing on a balcony overseeing all that went on. Malice, Sith master and triumvirate member of TDC was checking up on things. He glared at the many vats, and tubes which held massassi warriors. Some just being created, while others being helped out of the tubes. Finished growing into their full size.

The demon sith grinned as he watched an army being created before his eyes. Soon. Soon the jedi would feel their might. Soon they would feel the power of the massassi. Turning to his side, he spoke to one other sith that had wanted to accompany him. He needed a new arm anyways and had gotten one.

*Tell me Arkan. What do you think of our cloning facility. We can produce thousands of massassi at a time. Our army will soon overshadow all others*

"Very impressive," Arkan told Malice, "Very impressive," he said in a lower tone to himself. Unlike the facilities of the... well, he forgot their name, but they were called the Cloners... at any rate, compared to the Cloners, these cloning facilities were aesthetically dark, almost like a robotics factory. Sith Runes were placed about, ensuring the stability of the facility and stability of the Massassi's corrupted minds as the process completed. He looked upon each individual Massassi, a resurrection of some soul in the past who died at the hands of either Naga Sadow, Freedon Nadd, or Exar'Kun, and all of their plans.

"You have your armies, but where are your elite?," Arkan asked the elder Sith. "But what are your elite? Something besides the Massassi strain of genetics?" He removed his hand from under the sleeves of his black robe, holding the railing closest to him and peered down where Massassi were being trained in combat and maneuvers. This was also a combat facility. Arkan was amused that if they were put against Force-users, they would prove of little use. He smiled at this.

Khar Shian

It was known that the Zabrak that stood upon Khar Shian's terrain was quite forbidden from touching the land with his bare hands, let alone stand upon it. Yet there he stood, watching, waiting. They all knew he was there, and those that didn't obviously didn't understand that a threat meant nothing to him.

The force did not mask his presence; no true Warrior would ever think to hide, especially on a day like this.

Blood would spill forth on the Zabrak's hands. Not Jedi blood, Sith blood.

He silently called upon his only apprentice.

Ophidian no more hiding. Come forth and let them see you.

Kamon silently crept through the snow. Walking slowly toward his destination. A Massassi Warrior passed him some ten feet away, but Kamon, utilizing the shadows, went unseen.

He had to destroy the alarm system. Anyway possible would suit the groups needs as long as it did not compromise his presence. He'd been blocking his singature for a long time, and it had helped.

He crept along the walls of the building towards a black box. People and security were so predictable these days. No one would stop to think that maybe the control box should be on the inside of the building.

As he neered the box, he stopped. A group of ten Massassi had rounded the corner and were walking towards him. He did not fear Massassi. All things could be dealt with. What he feared was compromising the people around him.

He knelt down to the ground and pushed himself as far back into the shadows as possible. As they neered, he took in a large breath and held it. Now all he had to do was wait.

Khar Delba

Max stood staring out onto a wide valley. He meditated as looked out at the scenery, his mind aware of everything around him. He could sense Sedriss off in the distance. He had accompanied the Dark Lord to the planet. A strange feeling burst into his head as he meditated, the feeling bothered him. He sent a force message to Sedriss.

**Dark Lord, I need to talk with you. I have a strange feeling**

He turned and looked back out onto the valley, awaiting Sedriss.

The knight form was a black scar on the icy landscape of of Khar Shian, the force energy was sometimes thought corrupt and almost poisened at the knights wielding of the force, this man was said to be a double edged sword and was known to be one which had a disrispect for order only believing in those he had seen lead through example.. The knight was no diffrent in teaching his own disciples

The man seemed to radiate a uneering icy edge, he was stern and uncaring of others plights. The knight was Tyr Daroth and the lean figure stood behind this Zabrack silently, The knight had been ordered to confront that character and as his master wished so he would, he was a weapon for the sith. One of the most deadly creatures in the universe and the Zabrack had unwittingly placed himself in Tyr's sights..

"Looking for something?"Asked The Black clad character

A pure black figure silently walked up behind the demon overlord, his cloak slightly dragging across the floor. It was Dravin Thane, ancient Sith Lord and personal advisor to the new Dark Lord, coming to give a message to the Triumvirate member. The message was of great importance, and something that would interest him greatly.

The Grand Advisor stopped before Malice and his aide, not saying a word to either of them. With the advisor in pure black and the overlord in pure white, it almost seemed as if they were opposites, enemies supposed to fight to the death, but fortunately they weren't.

Dravin finally fixed his gaze to the demon Sith, though nobody could tell, as the organic armor he wore covered his whole body. The area of armor around his mouth didn't even open when he spoke, it just stretched a little.

"Overlord Draclau, it seems that several guards have been found dead in various parts of the terrian around this facility. I believe we have a inflitration party in our midest. Security has been increased and I am prepared to dispatch armored patrols throughout this installation on your order."