He marched into battle, leading a squadron of Jedi, young and old into the oncoming fray of sith and civilians. Vaulting over some rocks, he drew both lightsabers mid air and shouted the command for the others to charge. There was no time to look, to think. He would not allow himself to do so. He needed to fight.

His only thoughts were, if the lightsaber blade is red, or they have a blaster, attack. He hated the strong presence of the dark side, how it pushed at the edges of his mind and demanded it be released. To undo all he had trained for. Farah lept into battle against the nearest sith, their lightsabers twirling in a deadly dance of red on purple and white. He used all the force he could muster, and pushed against the opposing red saber.

Underneath the hood of his opponent, the light shone upon the yellow eyes. Yellow eyes filled with anger and pain. He once had those eyes. Unbeknownst to most of the Jedi in the order, he had been tasked with attacking an outpost in the mid-rim. He had done it, complied with orders to try and ease the pain and suffering. Each cry into the force had eased his own, even as he shrank into himself. One saber purple, the other white had lit the way to victory for the sith. He snarled at each blue blade, each green blade that he encountered, cutting them down like trees. He had not seen trees in years, both Korriban and Exegol had none. He ignored the pleas for mercy and followed the example of those who were his brothers and sisters.

Farah pushed the thoughts of the Dark-side back, he closed his eyes as he raised his arms above his head. Killing was something he was not sure that he could do. Bring peace to the force young one. He heard the echoes of his old Master's advice. Reaching out into the force, he used its guidance to know what to do. He felt himself bring the saber down to their neck, holding it long enough to burn before cutting. It felt wrong, to end another life. Yet, Farah reasoned with himself, many of the older sith would not be turned back to the light. They found the dark a form of knowledge and freedom.

He had wished that he could let go of the time he was a Jedi, the knowledge that he had existed in peace and hope. It caused too much pain. With each life he released into the force, each thief and mercenary that they asked him to end, he felt himself becoming numb to it. Hope was futile and so was the idea of escape. The remains of the shackles around his wrists were a clear reminder of that. They served as a painful reminder, the constant rubbing of rusted metal on long scarred skin, it reminded him that he couldn't have saved his master's life and that he would never be free, which reignited some of the pain that he felt. Why would these Jedi not deserve to feel the same pain!? He thought as he cut down more of them, yellow eyes glowing with power.

Now he wished to banish those memories. He could reflect on them later, when he was alone and in quiet. Not now. Not as he clashed against red sabers, his white one brighter than the Tython moon. It was defense, he had to remind himself. Defense of the Temple, of his true home and of the light side. He shouted another command to his group, looking back as a padawan let out a high pitched scream of pain. She was injured, her master dead. It brought back too many memories. Using the force to leap over battling adversaries, he held the purple saber to the throat of the sith that tried to cut down the young girl. 'The battlefield is no place for a child,' he consoled the girl, 'return to the temple. Protect the younglings. Go!' Farah commanded as he clashed sabers with another Sith.

'I was once one of you!' He screamed at a green bladed Jedi, who tried to talk him into reason, into letting go of the hate and anger. He held both lightsabers, one red, one purple at their throat. They kept trying to speak, to reason that his master wouldn't have wanted this. He only growled, 'You dare speak my old master's name!? You never knew him!' Farah screamed, cutting of their lightsaber arm. For a moment he felt guilt, remorse, as the Jedi calmly uttered his wishes into the force, cut short by Farah's red blade.

Farah turned at another scream. An initiate, with a training saber, at the end of the Sith Master's red saber. He let loose a battle cry, using the force to push away the dark side that tried to cloud his mind. 'Look away!' He commanded the child, before slicing the sith with the purple saber. The child uncovered their eyes with a pained whimper. 'Go now. Run back to the temple.' He had to be their protector, if no one else was. Using the force, he concentrated on the retreating form of the child, shielding them. The battle must end. Another sith dragged him across the forrest floor as he fought to get away. Their supreme leader stood at the back, waiting and watching. Farah was dragged to his knees in front of them. 'I was once one of you!' He screamed, igniting his white saber. Holding one in each hand, eyes closed, he blocked a bout of force lightning. He could feel the tug of the darkside, coming from this Sith.

Crossing his blades in defense, with another grunt, he released his emotions into the force. The sith stumbled forward a single step. Then, he lay halved on the forest floor. Farah turned to the battling Jedi and Sith. 'Your master is no longer! Leave Tython, return to Korriban.' He cried out, drawing the attention of the sith. Many of them sheathed their sabers, but remained ready to kill each other with the promise of becoming the leader. All too soon, he watched them retreat. His work was done. The Jedi had emerged victorious.

They trudged back to the temple, burnt, limbless, bloody. Farah pushed his own pain aside. There were others who needed healing, who were hurting. Padawans and healers greeted them at the temple entrance and the injured walked through. He noticed, partially hidden by a stone bench, sat a young padawan. He could feel her numbness and her grief in the Force. It was the same girl who had seen her master die. 'Your master would not see you grieve.' He consoled as she shook her head with tears threatening to spill.
'My master is dead. My home, my temple will not take me back. I have shown attachment and pain. Those lead to the dark side.' She uttered, monotone.

'The temple accepted me, for redemption is the return of the light. I claim you,' he took a moment to recall the girl's name, 'Tyv'en, as my Padawan Learner, in the way of the Force.' He spoke solemnly, placing a hand upon her shoulder. In the moment of touch, as he pulled her from the ground, had the dark side tendrils receded.