Solemn hearts fill the Republic as its savior continues to work against it. With every passing day, worried families hold one another and pray for a fluke, pray for anything to make their reality a peaceful one. No one feels right in this time, no one feels safe. Cantina activity spikes, while enlistment dwindles.
Racin’ Jim’s Cantina was experiencing another busy and rough evening when the clock struck five and the evening GNN News Broadcast begun. Hopeful eyes shift to the screen as conversations come to a crashing halt and all ears are listening. The logo flashes and spins and two Zeltron anchors appear to begin the evening report.
“Tragedy, as reports continue to pour in on the casualties in the Roche Sector. All communications have been cut off, but escapees still continue to pour out and report on the state of Nickel One and the Roche Shipyards.
Tonight we bring you their testament, a chilling story of occupation, indoctrination and fear."
The other anchor takes over, continuing the report.
“A heroic mission from the most unlikely of individuals, an initiative dubbed “Nova” by its leadership that promises to stop the enemies of democracy and peace.”
The first anchor nods at that and continues, speaking matter of factly as he does.
"And more news on Revan, once the protector of the Galaxy, seeking to rule it? Information from refugees tells us just how seriou–”
“Who I am is not important.” A dark voice echoes over a flickering screen.
“My message is.”
The screen begins to flicker into a different image and the barman walks up to the screen, smacking it repeatedly and yelling in alien tongues. After a few smacks, the static of the screen comes to a stop as a new picture appears before you, a familiar man speaking from behind a helmet…
"I am Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith. Those who use the dark side are also bound to serve it. To understand this is to understand the underlying philosophy of all life. The force offers power for power’s sake. Even to those unable to wield it, power is claimed. -You- must crave it. Covet it. You must seek power above all else, with no reservation or hesitation. Some fear this change. The Republic and the Jedi are focused on fighting and controlling this transformation. That is why we have been so limited in what we can accomplish.
Those who accept the burden of ambition must also accept the challenge of holding on to it. By its very nature the galaxy invites rivalry and strife. This is the greatest strength of the Sith: it culls the weak from our order. In time, all things must change if they are to improve. It is inevitable; axiomatic. That is why I am here. The galaxy must be ruled by a single leader: the very embodiment of the strength and power of ambition. Only then can we be prepared to act and keep the peace. The strong rule; the weak are meant to serve. This is the way it must be.
I am here to transform the Republic, force the evolution that false leaders and prophets fight so tirelessly. From the ashes of a weak, and false state, rises our new Sith Empire. Within it a place for every living soul with the will to take and use power to do what must be done, to keep our people safe and our galaxy strong.
Soon, we emerge from a chrysalis of evolution. Like the Mandalorian Wars, I am all that stands between the Galaxy and its enemies. Join me, or be left behind. For I am but a messenger, my identity, my person matters not. I…
I am the beginning and the end."
At that, he disappears and you’re left with a white screen with a symbol on it. The Sith Empire’s new flag.
The message flickers back to normal, leaving the viewers with slack-jawed gazes of awe, alongside the anchors who drop the holopads in their hand and simply stare forward at the screens in shock. Their eyes slowly shift to the screen, and the channel goes to static.
The Cantina crowd disperses as the channel is changed to some sort of sports between very sweaty Iridonians, leaving the viewers to mutter amongst one another as they consider the ‘invitation’ of joining a safer, stronger empire. It is but whispers, but the sentiment seems… receptive to the idea, with one in every few people disappearing onto shuttles and mysterious ships every day or two.