"Forty Years", the words rung through Kytel's mind slowly, his aging frame melding with the cushions of the sofa. He could sense the light from the world, the flickering power of the storma below. As the vessel approaches the surface, descending throught the atmosphere, the lightning slows, as does Kytel's heart. Small flickers of light, every two....now four seconds.....and then the lightning ceased.
The hatch to the vessel opened, accepting in the atmosphere with a loud gasp...a gasp that masked Kytel's last breath. In his stubborn and pig-headed manner, he had somehow assumed that he filled the planet with his power in the dark side. Unfortunately, his ego driven dillusion was incorrect. The planet had in fact infused him with it's power. Although he was one of the most powerful Dark Jedi, he would have died nearly twenty years ago on his own power. Yes, Gilliad's words were true. Kytel knew that when he heard them. It explained everything. Why his workers never came back, why he was alone so long, why he felt so strong in the force. The planet had sustained him, buton leaving, he had rejected it's gift and upon returning, it rejected him.
The quickly cooling corpse of Kytel quickly loses all color, becoming a sickly, unhuman white. His face contorted as if his passing were agonizing, and wrinkled twice as much as it had been just a few hours prior. His death would not be mourned, he knew this. That is why he requested his sacrifice to the animals, a peace offering to the planet. A gift of his energy to that which had prolonged his existence. He owed it at least that much.
Minister of Propaganda - The Endbringers
Formerly Deft Aklin - Regent of Dark Sovereignty/The Endbringers of Starsider
“The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy’s not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him;
Not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.” –The Art of War, Sun Tzu