For five thousand years, the Lost Tribe of the Sith had thrived on Kesh, a world too far out of the way in the galaxy for even criminal enterprises, such as the Hutts or independent smugglers or pirates, to take notice or advantage of. Originally thrown out of lightspeed thanks to a hyperjump error caused by her sister ship Harbinger, the Sith Dreadnaught Omen and all her on-board crew had crash-landed on Kesh, stranded and abandoned by Naga Sadow's Sith Empire, which would crumble into ruins long before the days of Darth Bane's implementation of the Rule of Two.
But what would become the Lost Tribe did not languish and die; following that fateful crash, Captain Yaru Korsin and his stranded crew came across the local Keshiri, a purple-skinned humanoid race that had mistaken the crew as gods. Captain Korsin and his shipmates took advantage of the Keshiri's ignorance and embraced this world as their own, and they were worshipped as idols by the aliens. Over time, however, when it became clear to the following generations of Keshiri that the humans in their midst were not gods, idolatry had fallen in the minds of the locals, and the ruling humans eventually accepted what their ancestors took to be inferiors as their equals; and in further time, when certain Keshiri came to understand that they could master the Force as well as the neighbouring humans, the purple-skinned aliens were integrated into the Lost Tribe. In varying times, Keshiri would even come to rule the Lost Tribe as Grand Lords over a council of High Lords, consisting of human and Keshiri Sith, just as their human counterparts would rule as Grand Lords.
The Lost Tribe had fallen into some hard times, mainly because of their limited views of the Force; as many Sith mistakenly believed, just as many Jedi mistakenly believed, the Force had only consisted of two sides, those being the light and the dark sides, the latter which the Sith embraced with all their hearts. So they had embraced darkness and evil amongst themselves, corrupting each other as much as their own persons, with each generation having members of either human or Keshiri suffering corruptions so terrible that they wreaked physical ruin on their bodies, the likes of which could only ever be seen in at least one other Sith in the galaxy: the legendary galactic ruler Darth Sidious, a.k.a. Sheev Palpatine, of whom the Lost Tribe remained completely unaware of.
And in a culture such as the Lost Tribe of the Sith, which came to value physical beauty after integrating various aspects from within the original standalone Keshiri society, such deformities created outcasts akin to the Yuuzhan Vong's Shamed Ones (whom the Lost Tribe also remained unaware of); outcasts that were, sometimes, outright executed for their disturbing ugliness. Not only were lowly Sith functionaries labelled as pariahs for their overreaching embrace of the dark side, but highly-respected High Lords, and even some Grand Lords, were shunned for the corruption that the "dark side" had brought upon them, and they were subsequently banished from their own society, if not killed in combat by overwhelming hordes of Sith who had lost all respect for their now-hideous counterparts; and not once did anyone in the Lost Tribe of the Sith think that maybe it was because of their acceptance of the false dark side, the embracing of their own inner darkness, unbalanced by any inner light that may be there, that such pariahs were created. The dark side continued to be used by members of the Lost Tribe to further their own goals, unknowing that if they were to wholeheartedly embrace it, they would become the lowest scum in their society.
But even ignoring what they did amongst themselves individually, the people of the Lost Tribe, human and Keshiri alike, would come to treat each other terribly in terms of groups; whole packs were created between Sith, whether they were human isolationists, Keshiri isolationists, or anything in between, to tear down the society held up by whom they deemed to be the enemy. Sometimes, such revolutions would succeed, sometimes they would fail, but no matter what, the Lost Tribe had always endured and recovered from whatever devastating conflict they had inflicted upon themselves.
However, because of the most recent notion of division among the Lost Tribe, they had launched a long, brutal war that had completely decimated their cities; fire and ruins had blanketed the expansive face of the entirety of Kesh; corpses, or what remained of corpses, practically littered the landmasses of the globe, many pooling blood, guts, intestines, and whatever else from human and Keshiri bodies in the bloodied, body-strewn streets of Kesh's cities. Billions had all but died, reducing the population of the planet to a meager few hundred all around.
And even from what she had learned from the lectures that her teachers had given her, eighteen-year-old Sith Tyro Vestara Khai - having been elevated from apprentice to Tyro just shortly before this crippling conflict - looked out among the ruins of her home of Tahv, the primary city of Kesh, and could only feel despair and hopelessness for her people's circumstances, and for herself. All alone, with bodies all around her in the smoking, red-smeared streets, Vestara doubted that the Lost Tribe could recover from this pointless conflict; even with what few hundred remained, none of whom felt interested in rebuilding the Lost Tribe because of all that had happened, Vestara knew that all was lost.
She could no longer feel either her mother or Sith Saber father through the Force; she felt them die. Her father, Gavar, had perished from a battle in one of Kesh's other cities; Vestara's mother, Lahka, had been a casualty from the violence that now littered Tahv's streets with corpses. Vestara herself had seen her mother's corpse in the Khai family estate after Vestara had wandered Tahv's ruins in despair, breaking down into fits of sobbing over Lahka's body, which had been pocked with holes from multiple blaster shots. Even Vestara's pet uvak, Tikk, had its head cleaved off by the blade of a lightsaber.
Now, no longer knowing what else to do but to plunge her ceremonial shikkar - her personal knife made with a blade made of fine Keshiri glass - into her stomach and end it all, Vestara stopped herself from committing suicide when she felt two new presences enter the Kesh system... only to feel hopeless all over again when she felt that the new presences had the stink of the light side that, even though Vestara had never encountered them before, the Jedi were all too well-known for.
But once more, Vestara paused, and felt that... these Jedi were different. They were strange; they felt somewhat darker, yet... in balance with the light that the Jedi were known for using. They felt grey somehow, in only partial contrast to what Vestara was taught that they would feel like through the Force.
Well, she thought, if, for nothing else than idle curiosity, it would at least give her somewhat of a reason to go on after having everything lost to her.
So she stood, waiting on that same spot where she was prepared to end her own life, and kept her eyes fixed upon the sky above. And after a scant few minutes, the appearance of a large, grey-painted, winged ship descended and began to hover several meters away from Vestara.
The ship's landing ramp extended downward, and from it, there first came the appearance of brown boots, followed by white trousers, before finally giving way to the robed form of a human male Jedi.
And even in spite of herself, Vestara couldn't help but notice that the Jedi, who looked about her age, was quite a looker; he was a redhead, with a fine complexion, raised cheeks, and the stoic look that he was giving her, combined by the feeling of wariness that he gave off through the Force, made him look like a suitable mate by Lost Tribe beauty standards.
But as it was, Vestara wasn't in the mood to truly appreciate the handsome Jedi; instead, she just stared back at him with her dour expression, as if wordlessly asking him why she should go on living.
Moving with the same wariness that emanated from his Force-presence, the Jedi hopped off the landing ramp and cautiously approached Vestara.
"My name is Jedi Knight Ben Skywalker," the man told her. "And you are?"
"Sith Tyro Vestara Khai," she answered, unmoved from the suicidal depression plaguing her thoughts.
Ben cocked his head as he continued to look at Vestara. "You don't feel particularly... dark through the Force."
Vestara shrugged. "I never felt all that compelled to embrace the dark side as my peers do." She then raised her arms to take in the devastation around her, and she gave a mirthless grin. "And you see where that left us all."
"I can feel the others on this planet," Ben said, as if ignoring what Vestara just said. "They all feel hostile to my presence, and the presence of my... pilot. But not you. Why is that?"
"You mean why don't I wanna kill you for being a Jedi?" Vestara asked.
"Because, after feeling your presences, I can see that you are not the Jedi we've come to expect," Vestara said.
"That's because we've embraced a new ideology," Ben informed her. "That of the Unifying Force." After a slight pause, he asked her, "Would you like to come with us to learn of it? Become a Jedi?"
Now Vestara was completely roused out of her depression as her mouth dropped in surprise; how could this Jedi ask her to simply turn her back on her entire culture like that? To be a Jedi was anathema to the Sith! It was worse than being a hideous outcast! It was as if he had just asked her to debase herself in so many vile sexual ways that even her imagination would be unable to come up with!
And yet, taking herself aback, she reminded herself of just what was left of her people; what their allegiance to the dark side had ultimately led them to, and the evidence was all too clear around her. She had just been ready to give up her life because she knew that there was nothing left of the Lost Tribe.
But to be a Jedi? Even with this new ideology that felt less constraining than the light side one?
"I would certainly like to have a look at what you have to offer," Vestara ultimately said.
"Then come with me," Ben said before turning and heading back to the ship.
Vestara followed almost dutifully. And as soon as she was aboard, she found herself in a spacious passenger cabin with Ben, and standing right before her and the male Jedi was an older, female Jedi with hair as red as Ben's, yet tinged with obvious grey streaks amplified by weathered wrinkles on her face.
Yet this Jedi's gaze upon Vestara was with stern judgment; whereas Ben's gaze seemed to be of objective impartiality, the woman looking down at the Sith Tyro looked distrustful and almost hateful at the sight of Vestara.
"Mom, this is Vestara Khai," Ben said to the older woman. "She's interested in seeing if the path of the Jedi is better than the Sith."
"Thank you, Ben," the older woman said. She then looked back at Vestara. "Are you willing to help us right now, Miss Khai?"
Vestara's eyebrows narrowed in curiosity. "In what?"
"We'd like to get some information about this world," Ben's mother answered. "Do you know where the nearest database or library is?"
Vestara nodded. "I can take you to one."
The older woman then turned and headed to the ship's cockpit, where she sat in the pilot seat. Vestara had already joined the elder Jedi and sat in the co-pilot seat as Ben's mother lifted the vessel away.
"Turn around about a hundred and fifty-two degrees to port," Vestara told the other.
Ben's mother complied, and then Vestara pointed out through the viewport. "See that building over there? That's Tahv's library."
"Tahv," the older woman said, as if filing that information away in her mind. "Is that the name of this city, or of this world?"
"The city," Vestara answered.
"What's the name of this planet?" the old Jedi asked.
"Kesh," Vestara replied.
"Thank you," the older woman said before piloting the ship over to the distant library.