1 Prologue: Lazarus

As the Light rises, so does Darkness to meet it.

Light had risen with the formation of the Galactic Alliance. In the ashes of the First Order, Darkness was festering throughout the Galaxy. For Cylus Merne, the crime infested planet of Nar Shaddaa was the only place safe from both.

"You plannin' on leavin' anytime soon, pal?" said the Morseerian bartender. His four hands made quick work of cleaning the bar top as he looked at Cylus. Even through his mask, the Morseerian's expression of distaste was apparent. The old, ill-mannered Rodian rarely left the run-down smugglers' hangout. "On the bright side," the bartender thought, "he clearly has enough credits for drinks."

Cylus looked up at the bartender in a drunken daze, "Another Gadje, you six limbed moof milker," he slurred. As his drink was brought out to him, Cylus turned to review his surroundings.

Cylus was once a Jedi hunter, one of the last of his kind. He had learned through his profession to be warry of his surroundings, even when completely inebriated. It was late, and there were only a few patrons left stumbling about the bar. With the lack of commotion in the room, Cylus' attention was easily drawn to a dark, hooded figure sitting idly in a booth across the room. Even sitting down and draped in a cloak, the being appeared to be physically imposing.

The shadowy figure looked to Cylus. "A much-needed rest, wouldn't you say?" it said. Its voice sounded cold, almost robotic.

"What in the blazes are you talking about," Cylus said. He could barely tell if the creature was speaking to him. He cocked his head and peered into the dark, but he could not make out the stranger's features.

Without speaking, the being rose from its seat. The faint whirling of mechanical joints sent chills up Cylus' spine. "You've lived quite a life," the hooded figure said. It walked slowly across the bar to Cylus. As it came closer, the Rodian could make out a faded black mask that looked like nothing he had ever seen before in his travels. The being wore grey armor covered in buttons and dials but was mostly hidden in its cloak. "You've been to every corner of the galaxy. You deserve to rest, my friend."

The masked phantom laid a cybernetic hand on Cylus' shoulder and the Rodian froze with fear, it seemed. "But first," it said, "I need to see into your various travels. You see, you've seen something I would very much like to find myself."

Suddenly Cylus grew cold, he could feel the tension move from his body to his head, His mind began to race against his will, as if something were weaving through his every thought.

"No!" Cylus thought to himself. "This is the work of a Force User! Someone—anyone! Help me! Help me!"

The tension in his head increased and turned painful. Cylus rapidly looked behind the assailant, desperate to see a lifeform take notice to the encounter. To his shock, there was not a single soul in the bar besides himself and his attacker.

"Oh," the being said maliciously, "I'm afraid you may have been seeing things, Jedi hunter. There is no one here but you and I."

Cylus strained, the pain was becoming unbearable. His thoughts were being pulled towards a memory, years ago, on a ship. "Wh-what…are y-you..." he struggled to ask.

The memory was focusing. Flashes of a pursuit with a small starfighter began to flood the hunter's mind. His head felt like it was on fire. He knew this memory, but why was this the one the being wanted.

"I am the galaxy's savior, Cylus," the creature said, almost hissing the Rodian's name. An image began to form in both of their minds. Two faces. Human. One man, one woman.

The pain now seared through Cylus' whole body. All thoughts outside of this memory began to fade. "This can't be it," he thought to himself, "not like this…"

As Cylus' mind began to slip into oblivion, the memory became clear to his attacker. He found the identity of the one he was looking for. Cylus took one final breath and whispered a name along with the being.

Katarn…

#

Lazarus released Cylus' lifeless body. He had all that could be obtained from the old Jedi hunter, but with what was now known, more questions had risen. Who is this Katarn, he thought to himself, and how will he lead me to the tools I will use for the Galaxy's salvation?

As he left the bar, Lazarus was met by a stormtrooper in worn, unkempt armor. "The perimeter is secure, Milord. None of the locals know of our presence here."

"Good," Lazarus replied, "Return to your ships, commander. Scatter your troops to avoid Alliance suspicion and await my command."

The trooper nodded, "Yes, Milord," and she left with her small squad. Lazarus made haste to leave the area and get to his ship. There was much to be done, much to learn. As he boarded his ship, the Serpent, and began to take off, Lazarus felt his resolve grow stronger. The renegade Sith had finally reached a true breakthrough. He would find this Katarn, and the treasure he had been searching for.

"And perhaps," he thought, "I will finally find the one I am destined to face. You're ascension must be growing nearer…"

As he left Nar Shaddaa's orbit and began to initiate his ship's hyperdrive, Lazarus chuckled to himself,

As Darkness rises, so inevitably will Light to be crushed by it…