They are coming. We prayed that they wouldn't target our world, we are peaceful and are neutral, although we serve the Light and not the Dark.

I am in my third year of studying at the Temple of Ashla/Bogden. I enjoy following my mentor, Kera Stardust, around and learning our history at her side. Training with the lightwhip with Kale Fallenstar and Sira Starlight. And learning at the feet of Adra Whitesun, the High Priestess herself.

The High Priest and Priestess petitioned the Jedi for help. They know that we can not hope to stand against the Sith without either a planetary fleet or a standing army. Besides the Jedi swore an oath to help us.

They didn't respond.

I can feel them enter our system. I can feel their hate, directed at us.

Many of the priests and priestesses are sent to defend the only population center on the planet. The rest of us, the students and the instructors, stay to defend our home and our collective knowledge from the Sith.

I am assigned to the hallway leading to the Halls of Oaths. It is a great honor.

It is where we make oaths against our enemies. In the days of old people, usually a priest and priestess would enter, cut their hands and press the palms against the crystal alter. Then they would ask for revenge against those that had wronged our people. It is not something that beings know about us.

I don't know how it works. All I know is that our enemies suffer; sooner or later

A nudge in the Force sends me to the doors and I change the passkey. I was given the option to change the codes by Shang Whitesun, the High Priest.

I hear the Sith begin to make their landing.

I head back to my spot.

Very quickly I feel waves of death and the approach of Dark presences. I quickly remove my lightwhip from its place on my belt and activate it.

The sounds of battles reach my ears and I feel both Light and Dark die.

Finally footsteps approach. The belong to a Sith.

He comes around the corner and smiles. He sees my youth and thinks that I will be easy prey. He learns his mistake as I relieve his body of his head.

More Sith arrive and two more die by my hand.

Suddenly one uses the Force to lift me in the air and throw me out a window. It is a long fall.

Pain.

I slowly open my eyes. I am in the gardens, or what once was the gardens. Where flowers from countless worlds once grew is nothing but wilting plants.

Slowly I climb to my feet.

I no longer feel any Sith.

I glance into the sky; the sun is raising. I have been out for an entire day. If not longer.

Glancing around I retrieve my lightwhip.

In a daze I leave the gardens for the city. I must find out what has happened to the citizens.

What had once been a proud world is now nearly a barren waste land.

I wander the streets of what was once a bustling city. The streets that were once full of people and vehicles are now littered with broken machinery, pieces of buildings and bodies.

Finally I reach what is left of the spaceport. Throwing caution to the winds I contact Don Darklighter, the ambassador for our world.

In a shaking voice I tell what has happened. He looks at me with gentle pity. "Young one," he begins, "if the Sith didn't kill the people than they took them to sell into slavery. I mourn for the loss of our people. However, you must find out if either the High Priest or Priestess are still among the living. I can not ask the Republic to help rebuild our world alone and chances are that they won't listen anyway."

A few hours later he informs me that the Republic has made a decision: no. He says that there isn't anything that he can do. Eras isn't a Republic world. But that I still need to find the High Priest or Priestess.

I slowly make my way back to the Temple of Ashla/Bogden. I can feel the pulse of a living being somewhere in there.

I carefully ascend the stairs. Huge chunks are missing from the white and black marble steps. I try not see the damage or the bodies of the Priests and Priestesses unless I am endanger of tripping but it doesn't work.

I see the lifeless eyes of Kera Stardust. A few feet away is the body of my aunt, Jocasta Pathfinder. My brother, Luke, lies at the door to the High Priest's office. The High Priest's head is mounted on the wall. I weep for the fallen in the room and I kick the body of a Sith as I pass it.

II must find out if the High Priestess is still alive and tell her what the Sith have done to our people.

I carefully search every room. Everywhere I find the bodies of a handful of priests and priestesses that stayed to help the instructors and students. There are a few citizens as well; they must have been fleeing the Sith.

I find Sith as well, but not as many as I had hoped.

I only peer into the nursery, because I knew what I will find, the children dead. I start to cry. Many of them were orphans who needed a loving home until loving parents could be found. The others were the children of the priests and priestesses.

It is getting late. The sun has set. I can feel the gnaw of fear. Fear that the High Priestess is dead and that I am the last of our order.

I come to the spot where I had fought the Sith.

I almost smile in pleasure at the sight of their dead bodies. I can also almost hear Aunt Jocasta's voice reprimanding me on my thoughts.

The thought brings tears to my eyes. My whole family gone.

I sink to the floor and weep.

I feel so childish. I am nearly twenty years old. But I find myself taking comfort in my tears. The servants of Bogden don't cry. They are, metaphorically speaking, heartless.

Slow footsteps approach.

I turn.

A young priest about my age and wearing the robes of a third year stands there. His robes are burnt and torn. His black hair is a little longer than the average young man, brushing his chin.

Tears of joy pour down my cheeks. Someone else survived the desecration of our Temple.

"Who are you?" he asks softly. "Mikayla," I respond. "And you?" "Anak," he replies.

I remember him, he's the descendant of a near mystical family. They are -were- known for their unique talents like telepathy.

"How long has it been since the attack?" I force myself to ask. "Two days, they poisoned the water to kill all life here. I heard them bragging about it."

Pain fills me. The planet that our people have called home for nearly two millennial is now a barren waste land.

I turn and head for the Halls of Oaths, Anak follows behind me.

Near the entrance is the High Priestess's body with the bodies of several Sith. I knew that once Anak found me that she was gone.

Guilt fills me, because I changed the passkey. And because I changed the passkey she couldn't escape into the safety of the Halls.

I enter the passkey and enter the Halls.

"Are we going to curse the Sith?" Anak asks me. "And the Jedi." I reply. "Why the Jedi?" he asks. "They allowed this to happen! They owed us a Life Debt! Our Seers warned them of an attack against their Temple on Coruscant and they promised that they would help us if it was needed. They broke that promise. They allied themselves with the Republic when true servants of Ashla allow her to guide them and don't rely on those who can only see the here and now to decide what they should and should not do."

Anak jerks upon hearing my harsh words, but nods. I am glad that he doesn't point out that the Seers warning was given nearly a thousand years. We see a promise as a promise no matter how long it takes it to fulfill.

We ignore the many shelves of datacards and other such devices. We are interested in one thing and one thing only: The Alter of Oaths.

It is craved out of a crystal from the ice world of Ilum. There are bloodstains in several places, some are faint and others are bright as if they are fresh.

I hesitate. It is one thing to say that you're going to curse someone. It's another thing entirely to go through with it.

Slowly Anak picks up the knife and slits his palm and then hands me the blade and I do the same. Then we place our hand on the alter and we slowly run it on the surface leaving red stains behind.

"Hear us Ashla/Bogden. The Jedi have broken their oath with us and now our Temple is in ruins and nearly all of thy servants are dead. The poplulance is either dead or scattered to the four corners of the galaxy. One day let them believe that their enemy is dead and then when their Temple is empty of many of the fully trained let the Sith fall up them, desecrate it and kill the instructors and students. And may there be a mere hand-full of survivors. As for the Sith let them celebrate their victory and meet their end by our descendant." I say out loud and broadcast into Ashla/Bogden.

We stay still for a moment and then we feel a a voice whisper to us that it will be done.

We lift our hand and Anak looks at me curiously. I lower my head, embarrass.

We leave taking nothing and seal the doors behind us. The ghosts of the slain are now waiting for vengeance. They will protect what is behind those doors.

We board a hidden ship and make our way to Coruscant. Several people tell us that they are sorry for our lose. But if they were sorry they would have either sent help or be helping us rebuild somewhere.

Don Darklighter marries us.

We are now heading to a world outside of the Republic. We do not want our children joining those oath breakers. We don't how long it will take for our 'curse' to fulfill itself. It might take 76 years or three thousand years.

But I do know one thing:I Mikayla Moondancer Skywalker will not rest until it does.