Jantar Keltainen
Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak
The setting was innocuous enough as Jantar stood on her balcony, high above the main levels of the city. It was just after dawn; the morning rays of the Coruscant sun struck opalescent sparks from the many towers, ziggurats, domes, and other structures surrounding the former Imperial Palace. The bullet-shaped spire that supported her was taller than most; she remembered being told that she was at least seven hundred metres above the streets. If she could fall from this height, she would have nearly ten seconds in which to regret it before impact – assuming she wasn’t struck in midfall by one of the many vehicles whipping by in the various traffic strata.
Jantar remained near the balcony’s edge, staring out over the city. The underbelly of Coruscant no longer interested her, and the opulent levels had lost their lustre some time ago.
She wanted only one thing right now. A Master. Someone to teach her the ways of the Force. And the Sith.
Jantar remained near the balcony’s edge, staring out over the city. The underbelly of Coruscant no longer interested her, and the opulent levels had lost their lustre some time ago.
She wanted only one thing right now. A Master. Someone to teach her the ways of the Force. And the Sith.