Order of the Lost Souls

From "Balance of Power, a memoir".

I found a book in the Jedi library, one of the old hard copy pamphlets, not even converted to holodisk. As I cracked the seal, my eyes fell on wondrous things and my mind floated away...

---

"Nothing did I promise you fool, nothing at all.", the Emperor sneered mockingly at the sullen form before him. "The Force is a well that never runs dry, but you will find that it is a well of your own blood. Power? Indeed, you have the power you want, the power to govern the weak... the power of total control over them. But no power over yourself, none whatsoever." The Emperor grinned as the Twi'lek started to object but stifle a choked gasp. Following a greater force, he nodded helplessly at the old man. "See my young friend, you know it well and you will know it well over the years", The Emperor quoted a line from the book of darkness: "The weak serve the strong, because that is the way. The strong govern the weak, because that is the way." "You agreed to that, and now you have to agree that I am stronger than you, my friend." The Emperor stopped abruptly and eyed the wasted Twi'lek, leaving him all alone with his thoughts. The wording of hundreds of teachings had the Twi'lek learned while studying the dark arts. He croaked in defiance, "It matters not, I embrace the darkness and feed upon the livelihood of others." The Emperor flashed a ghastly smile at the young man and said in a warm voice ... "I see you have found truth in your current situation. I will be lenient just once. I will give you control back, your very soul...

... If you bring me one million souls of the weak!"

---

I stole the text from the library with less a sense of guilt than curiosity.
What else would a young precocious Jedi padawan have done?

"This was young Arakon's beginning, and every day he awakened to a sudden illness. As the years went by, he grew stronger in the dark arts. The task was daunting but souls were trapped and ripped from flesh one by one. Jedi Knights, generals, and criminals all fell and wasted away under the harsh glow of the saber and the melody of the Force-driven word. But the wielder still realized, he could not do this task alone. To the end of freeing his soul, he hired others. They were a diverse lot- rogues, criminals, soldiers of fortune, murderers and vigilantes. But they all had one thing in common: the burning desire to further themselves. He offered them rewards and even a few souls in return. The sect they formed was called the Order of the Lost Souls and the toll it took on its enemies was terrible. The order identified its members through a small soul-storing device shaped like a hand and crafted out of obsidian. Stolen souls or minds coerced by the Dark Side were quickly ferreted away to a little known planet. Every soul taken is rumored to be transferred to the Obsidian Hand where the Order resides. The artifact was based on the Orb of Darkness, shaped like a gigantic hand and dangerous to lay eyes on. Not many know about the organization, but those who have contact with them know them as the Order of the Lost Souls. They can avenge your long fallen friend and free his soul, and they can torture the soul of your worst enemy into oblivion."

-Dark Master Arakon, Keeper of Souls

---

I ran away from the temple later that year and I carried a few things with me: my lightsaber, my clothes, and the scroll.

Years later, I am trapped by my own greed for justice. Trapped by the very forces I control.

-Kano, aka Silencer, Jedi-Renegade

---