The stars above Ruusan were dim, those who looked up into the night sky saw the world through a lens filtered by a dense Force-fueled fog.
This was a long-forgotten world scarred by an ancient war so damning, it had altered the trajectory of the galaxy for a thousand years. It was here that Lord Hoth led the Army of Light against Darth Kaan, the mastermind behind the Brotherhood of Darkness. It was here that Darth Bane, disgusted by the current era of Sith, and their willingness to work together, deployed the Thought Bomb, murdering thousands of Sith & Jedi alike.
Bane's act of sudden mass murder created a wound in the Force, one that was plugged by the souls of countless Force Sensitives. It was these unfortunate souls that served as a band-aid, eternally condemned to damnation on this forgotten planet. Whilst they suffered, the Temple on Coruscant completely overhauled their internal teachings, purged the galaxy of all Sith history, and removed themselves from military affairs.
For the next thousand years, the Bane-ite Sith, the inheritors of the Rule of Two, would cause havoc across the galaxy with the ultimate goal of achieving unlimited power, thus culminating in Palpatine's rise as Emperor.
Ruusan. The planet where the first domino collapsed signaling the rise of the Sith, and collapse of the Jedi. Ruusan. The planet where untold power awaited those with the will to grasp it. Lost to time, and forgotten by all-save for the treaty that bore its name-this world-thick with the metaphysical weight of the Force was Jedi Master Yoda's destination.
Through a curtain of mist and half-shadow, the small, cloaked figure of Yoda stepped cautiously into a fog filled forest, his walking stick tapped softly against gnarled roots and cracked stone as he ever so slowly advanced towards his destination. The air was unnaturally thick, almost sentient. The Force pulsed like a beating heart. Landing his ship outside of the Valley of the Jedi, Yoda was pressed upon by thousands of wills. If not for his long years of meditation and self reflection, madness would have overtaken him. The Force Nexus of Illum was calm and serene, it was a place where crystal song brought hope and joy to all that listened. Here, on Ruusan, a bleeding hole had been scabbed over, and repeatedly picked, the Force was on edge, teetering between anger, malice, righteousness, and justice.
"Feel it, I do." Yoda murmured, voice low, hoarse with age and strain. "A Convergence, as Revan said. Wonder I do, his intentions." Yoda frowned to himself as he hobbled along.
He had come alone, curious about the fabled Valley of the Jedi. Born around the same time as its formation, Yoda had been the first generation to experience the post Ruusan Reformation Jedi Order. His Master and the other Temple Masters had been very reserved when discussing this topic. Veterans of that terrible war, they had imparted onto him the importance of peace. In their aversion for war, Yoda had long pondered upon their teachings. During the Clone Wars, he often found himself meditating on the validity of all he had been taught. Ultimately, he concluded, that they were right to be cautious, but his grand failure to protect the Order had opened his eyes to a new line of thinking.
Yoda sighed. His back ached, and his old body was tired, yet curiosity pushed him forward. He would witness what had generated so much fear in his teachers with his own eyes, and come to his own conclusions. He sought truth, and the Force had led him here.
As he pressed onward through the wilds of Ruusan, the terrain grew stranger. The trees withered, and twisted as if recoiling from some unseen horror. Melancholy permeated the air, yet Yoda was steadfast in resisting its call. The fog around him snapped and hissed like a living thing. It then swirled, and began to send him visions of what could have been, or may be.
The first showed Coruscant in flames, the Jedi Temple was broken and burning. Clone troopers marched over the bodies of younglings as they blasted their way deeper inside. The flames reflected in the shine of Anakin Skywalker's eyes, now yellowed and cruel. Soon after, he witnessed the demise of every single last Jedi to fall during Order 66. He even caught glimpses of dozens of Jedi turning to the darkside, much to his dismay.
"Failed them, you did." A voice that sounded no different from his hissed behind Yoda, serpentine and mocking.
Yoda stopped in his tracks, and closed his eyes. He let the vision wash past him, and willingly absorbed it into his psyche instead of outright dismissing it. The pain of Order 66 hit him once again, yet Yoda accepted this burden, as was his responsibility.
"Nothing to say, hrm? Guilty you are." A hot breath breathed in his ear.
"Jedi we live. Jedi we die. With the Force we are, always." Yoda rebutted, his eyes still closed.
The darkness replied with mocking laughter. "Blind you are not, witness you shall!"
Then a piercing shriek of the word 'witness' entered his brain. Ki-Adi-Mundi, Plo Koon, Kit Fisto, and a dozen other Jedi close to Yoda surrounded him in a circle, looked at him with dead eyes, and repeated this word. Each iteration was like a fist to the gut, causing him to stumble.
WITNESS (x10)
Another vision rose, and despite his closed eyes, he saw it all the same. This time, it was Mace Windu, falling endlessly into a shaft of lightning and screams. "The boy was too dangerous! I told you, I told you!" His electrified skeleton was visibly contorting in untold pain as he fell, yet Mace still looked up to Yoda with hope in his eyes. "Please!"
Then another one came just as fast, showing Obi-Wan battered and broken on Mustafar. Obi-Wan's body was charred, left to burn at the edge of a lava lake, and he whispered, "It should have been you who stopped him."
The Force upon Ruusan ebbed and flowed like a living beast. It was a Nexus like no other, perhaps the greatest Yoda had ever felt. The balance teetered, too much darkness, and pain were focused at this one place. It was raw and ancient, and even he, with all his centuries of training, struggled to attune himself.
Hours, or perhaps days passed in this strange, torturous haze before Yoda finally crested a ridge and beheld it: the Valley of the Jedi.
Once a battlefield of epic proportions, it was now a grave of spirits. The land was barren, devoid of all life. Not even the most troublesome weed could take root here. All that remained was the stone and wind. Yet within the heart of this emptiness, there was movement. Countless wraiths of Jedi and Sith were locked in an eternal struggle. Blue and red apparitions brought lightsabers down upon one another repeatedly. Their clashes tapped into the Force, and served as the genesis for the Nexus, fueling it forevermore. Cries of fury and defiance echoed like thunderclap, yet when one soul was defeated, and looked like it was on the verge of dissipation, it would reemerge from the back of the warhost, and once more throw itself into the fray.
Yoda's ears folded back. He steadied himself, feeling the tide of ancient power rush against him. The very air crackled with tension, and an untold amount of energy. These were not mere phantoms. They were imprints of the dead, souls damned to fight without end. Cursed to fight in a cycle of endless slaughter.
Yoda frowned, and contemplated what he was seeing. Revan had suggested he come here. He had told Yoda he was the Order's largest failure. After experiencing the gauntlet of visions, his spirit was flagging, yet Yoda had been neither unyielding, nor did he buckle under the pressure. Accept his failures, he had. Now, he was witnessing what could become of the Order. This lesson Revan had imparted, eye opening, it was.
During Yoda's musings, two heroes emerged from the chaos of the melee. Amongst all the ghosts, their appearances were the most life-like, and contained the most power. Comparing himself to the two, Yoda knew that they were no lesser than he was.
One of them was tall and armored in durasteel plates that covered Jedi robes. White-haired and bearded, his eyes were filled with unyielding resolve; it was the Jedi Lord, Hoth.
The other, clad in sleek black battle robes, had a chiseled face, and wore a cunning smirk; he was the Sith Lord, Skere Kaan.
They stood opposite one another seeming like they might engage in yet another epic clash, yet what happened next startled Yoda.
They both turned to him.
"Jedi Master." Lord Hoth said, his voice deep and weary. "You walk among the cursed."
"Free us!" Skere Kaan shouted, stepping forward, his form flickering with unstable power. "End this torment!"
Yoda inclined his head solemnly. "Prisoners, you are, of your own war. Peace…only through letting go, can you find it."
"Peace?" Hoth growled. "There is no peace here." The Jedi Lord tried to keep the madness out of his voice, but his ever widening eyes, and wild hair spoke to the true state he was in.
A thousand years of endless combat had not treated the once great man kindly.
"You preach weakness." Kaan spat. "Release us…or take our place!"
The ghosts screamed in unison, as the Force heavily impacted their already fragile psyches. Cursed to endlessly slaughter one another, they could no longer resist the siren's call, and surged towards Yoda.
Their blades were incorporeal yet were charged with the very essence of the Force. Slashing down at him, Yoda reacted instantly. He leapt, ducked, and deflected, his green lightsaber worked at lightning speeds. Hoth came at him with thunderous strength, his strikes were born from desperation. Kaan danced like fire, each move elegant and deadly. The pair of Jedi & Sith worked well in tandem, well aware of each other's movesets after a millenia of combat.
"Madness, this is!" Yoda called out, parrying two blades at once. "Endless vengeance, your fate will be! Listen to the Force you must, if freedom you seek."
"We are vengeance!" Kaan roared.
"We fight because we must!" Hoth desperately shouted.
The ground cracked beneath their fury. Ghosts spiraled around them in a maelstrom of anguish. For every strike Yoda dodged, a hundred more came. Still, he moved like wind, small but unyielding, he was like a light amid the dark. Yet even his strength began to waver.
Breathing hard, his robes torn, he finally forced space between them, flipping to the summit of a jagged outcrop. He raised his hand, and for a moment, all froze.
"Enough."
His voice, amplified by the Force, rippled across the battlefield.
The ghosts paused. Even Hoth and Kaan stood still.
"No peace, you will find in war. No end, in hatred. Free yourselves…only you can."
But they did not listen. They screamed.
And then they charged once more.
With sorrow in his heart, Yoda raised his blade. The sky above the Valley darkened, and the Force wept as its brightest children suffered.
And the battle began anew.
~~~~~~
AN: From a certain point of view, this event could be seen as Yoda's Shounen training arc.
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