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The only light in the room was the glow of the double-bladed saber. It moved slowly, almost leisurely, undulated back and forth like a charmed snake. Every rotation cast golden light on the wielder — a Pau'an, his long face calm and focused. His robes, blade, and the mask that lay at his feet, all marked him as a Jedi temple guard.
He finished his kata and extinguished the blade, plunging the room into blackness. Smiling, he sank into a cross-legged sitting position. He liked the dark. It reminded him of home, of the sinkholes of Utapau under the jade sky.
He pushed the thought away, reached for his mask. He had given up the past to become a temple guard. The smooth disk settled back into place over his features. He had given up many things to carry the double yellow blade. His homeworld, his face... even his name.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself to center around the familiar weight of the lightsaber pike pressing into his palm.
He continued in this routine, day in and day out, each cycle very much the same. Then, sudden and unlooked for, war came. The war put Jedi at the heads of battalions and sent them back in shipping crates. Bound by his duty, the Pau'an remained behind to defend the temple, but he heard the murmurs of those who had been to the front. The other Jedi sometimes forgot that the masked figures standing silently alert at the doors of their sanctuary had ears at all.
The initial optimistic promises of "a few weeks at most," and "no chance against our forces" faded away, and weeks stretched into months and years. Now there were quiet, desperate strategy meetings, and even quieter mutterings of dissent. The younglings walked rather than ran, tiny faces solemn in the knowledge that they would soon be sent to fight in a war they did not understand. The Pau'an watched and listened, the light streaming through the temple windows seeming to carve him there in sandstone.
At last, it came to a head. The details of the investigation were beyond his purview – some padawan had set off an explosion in the temple hangar, and she had been caught. It didn't much matter. He was beginning to wonder, when the mask was off and he was alone with his thoughts, if anything to do with the war mattered.
He was part of the security detail for the trial. The culprit was only a girl, eyes brimming with fear and anger. He knew those eyes—he had seen them in the padawans returning from their first missions, their first tastes of death. The cold light of the courtroom lent her skin a sickly greenish cast, but she stepped forward, voice ringing to all the corners of the building. "I did it, because I've come to realize what many people in the Republic have come to realize — that the Jedi are responsible for this war. That we've so lost our way that we have become villains in this conflict, that we are the ones who should be put on trial. All of us! And my attack on the temple was an attack on what the Jedi have become: an army fighting for the dark side, fallen from the light we once held so dear."
He listened in silence. The blade of his lightsaber bisected his vision, a yellow line of energy between the watching Jedi knights and the girl.
That night in his quarters, he crushed the mask.
The Republic fell. Now, the newly elected Emperor stared at him from beneath a dark hood. All the Pau'an could make out were a pair of glowing yellow eyes regarding him with curiosity and contempt. "You would pledge yourself to the extinction of your own order?"
He bowed his head. "The Jedi were weak." His grip on his lightsaber hilt tightened. "Only the Sith are strong enough to bring peace to the galaxy."
The man leaned forward in his chair, the angle revealing his ghoulish visage. "But are you?"
Without warning, lightning spewed from his fingertips, popping and crackling. Instinct flung the Pau'an to his feet, and he activated his saber. The energy impacted his weapon, and he gritted his teeth as the edges discharged into his body. After a moment, the Emperor ceased his onslaught. The Pau'an remained in a ready position, a thin veil of smoke rising from his robes.
The Sith Lord sat back in his chair. "What is your name, my persistent friend?"
Slowly, the Pau'an sank back into a kneeling position. "I have no name, my lord. I relinquished it when I became a temple guard."
"Then I shall give you a new one." The old man licked his lips. "You shall be my Grand Inquisitor."
He bowed his head. "As you say, my lord."
Trapped among the glittering stars, a battered transport stalled as its interior plunged into blackness. A woman screamed, but the Grand Inquisitor ignored the sound, making his way noiselessly towards his target. He gave a toothy smile as he realized his enemy was unarmed. In the darkness, he sensed the Jedi rise to her feet. Too late. A flash of red, and the weapon retracted as quickly as it had emerged, leaving the transport again in darkness. More screams as the Jedi thudded to the floor. The Inquisitor straightened with a satisfied smirk. The only light in the room was the glint of his yellow eyes.