STAR WARS: A TWIST IN TIME
At last! The tyrannical reign imposed by Emperor Palpatine, or DARTH SIDIOUS, has ended. Peace has re-established itself, slowly but surely, over the course of two long years. The remnants of the GALACTIC EMPIRE have struggled to regain their power and stranglehold over Core worlds, but with little success. Failing this, they've turned to a new plan--to warp the very fabric of the space-time continuum, sending history hurtling both backwards and forwards at once. The Emperor is resurrected, and Jedi who are four millennia old suddenly find themselves in the midst of the Rebellion itself!
Who will either rise to defend the proper order of time, or fail to sustain it?
Tysyacha Dvyx brandished her double-bladed silver lightsaber and prepared for battle. Not against some Sith foes closing in, but against herself. Today was the day she'd promised herself to learn Juyo, or the Ferocity form. She never had been the best at combat, being far more skilled at the persuasive and healing arts than hacking foes to pieces with her blades, but now was the time to brush up. To dare more than she had dared, to push her limits.
"They say Jedi can't learn Juyo," she muttered to herself, "unless they've mastered forms one through six first. Well, I'm impatient, and I'm also an exile from the Order. I'm no longer bound by their traditions or their--misguidedly low expectations. I'll fix that," she muttered, "and become the first to try!"
She slipped into combat stance, breathing deeply, and then prepared for the utter deep shock of the Force overwhelming her. One, two, strike!
Three, four, strike twice!
It was grueling work, but also exhilarating.
Tysyacha was concentrating so deeply on her technique and full mastery of Juyo's basic moves that she did not notice the Force tremble around her. It was uneasy, as if it were about to give way during a sudden earthquake. Slicing the air with her twin blades, the Exile surrendered to the full heat of battle, not noticing the sweat pouring down her body or the odor rising from it. She'd do this, for she needed to if she'd ever confront the True Sith--
--and then chaos. With a sound between a crack and a roar, a vortex opened within the Force itself and seized the Exile with the brute force of a monster. A rancor, or the dark hunger of Darth Nihilus. Tysyacha shrieked.
When she awoke, she found her head bloodied, although not as badly as she'd expected. She was lying in the middle of a swath of pavement, located in an urban area from the metallic, blurry shapes she thought were buildings.
"Oh...my head...Gde ya?"
she asked herself. "By the Force, where am I?"