Here is the website I used as a translator: http://starwars.myrpg.org/coruscant_translator.php

I marched through the darkness with only my fear to guide me. I was lost, afraid, and naked without my ambition to power my actions. I had been born into an eternal struggle as a member of the Dark Jedi Brotherhood, but with it gone I was nothing. This was my only chance.

My hands gripped the cold metal of the stairwell as I hauled myself upward further and further. It seemed like an eternity as I stomped a slow death march towards the Dark Lord of the Sith. I knew him to be a powerful and evil man, but I also knew he had done fantastic things with that power. Terrible, yes, but fantastic. I also knew that only the Emperor could give me the aide I so desperately needed.

A sound stopped me in my tracks. A heavy labored breathing from my right. Instinctively, I reached for my weapon and activated it. My green blade was met with a powerful blow from a red blade. I watched in horror as my weapon was pushed back into me, the edge biting into my shoulder. A terrible visage of power adorned in blacks of all kinds stood before me. I instantly recognized him for who he was from the history books I had read - Darth Vader. I tried to plea my case, but he would hear nothing of it. On and on and on, he came with a combination of powerful blows and wild techniques in the force. As his blood red blade plunged into my heart I could only regret what would not pass. I could not tell my story, share my knowledge and usher in a new era of darkness to a galaxy so desperate for order.

Could I get feedback?

I believe I rushed the end a little..

He had not spent long in the Brotherhood, all things considered. Still he had to admit he was impressed with how quickly those loyal to the Iron Throne had been to contact him. He knew the Sadowan Overlord and his cronies would be vigilant, but it wasn't going to be enough. Word had already slipped of Jac Cotelin's strike against his old home. Though the Consul and his Jedi dog tried to supress them, rumors were already running rampant that the Orian system would be the Grand Master’s next target.

Night had fallen in the streets of Kel Rasha and even the Sadowan overlords were sleeping at this hour. Reaching into the bag he clutched in his right hand, the man withdrew a small disc. Placing it on the ground, he stepped back. As the device powered up, the miniature form of a human cloaked in the robes of the Grand Master’s Inquisitorius gazed at him.

“Were you followed?” The figure tilted its head up slightly in a show of arrogance, managing to reveal only a clean-shaven lower face. “We already know that many in the Orian System still rebel against Pravus’ rule.”

“Don’t worry, they don’t suspect a thing. The Summit of Naga Sadow is as blind as they are stupid. Despite their rebellion, they would rather to retreat and hide behind so-called *higher ideals*. There are no fighters among them, only cowards behind facades. The Consul would as soon as hide his head in the sand as let the Jedi sacrifice the people of the Orian system. The real losers in this are going to be the Novitates and the Journeyman who blindly follow them."

"What does that make you, Adran?" The barest hint of humor was heard in figure's voice as it leaned forward.

"I am just a practical man." The Loyalist shook his head. “I would rather to spare those we can. If turning over a rogue Jedi and a spineless coward would grant the people of Orian some reprieve, I would gladly turn them over myself.” A cool wind blew threw the street, chilling the human slightly as he spoke the words.

The sound of a throat clearing drew Adran’s attention away from the holoprojector. His eyes grew large as they focused on the tall form of a cloaked figure.

“Is that right?” The Dark Jedi pulled the hood of the cloak back to reveal sharp figures. His eyes were narrowed at the Loyalist. “You would rather to sacrifice a man than to offer up yourself as tribute? I suppose the lives of others are cheaply sold.”

Adran felt as though he were rooted to the ground. Steely-blue eyes bored into him, causing his legs to tremble. “Aedile….O’Maille…..Master…..Sir…..” each of the words fell from his lips with little conviction behind them.

Zachary pointed toward the barracks on the horizon. “Get out of here now, coward and traitor. I will deal with you in the morning.” The holographic projector clicked as the image of the Inquisitor paced back and forth. “I will show you how my people deal with such dereliction of duty. Are you not also a protector of Orian, worm!?”

Lost for words, Adran stiffened to attention, giving a salute. “Sir.” Turning on one foot, the soldier began to jog away.

O’Maille turned to the projector, prodding at the device with his feet. “What would Locke Sonjie think if he knew your people brought something like this here?” The figure did not respond beyond a grimace. “What panic would it raise if he knew doubt had been sewn in our ranks and that our own were turning against him?” The figure reached off to the left, a scowl barely visible.

“Just one moment.” The Sorcerer’s voice dropped. “The man is right about one thing. If sacrificing a coward can spare many more lives it is a worthwhile bargain. Things are sour in this so-called Clan. Perhaps my destiny is calling me away from certain destruction. After all,” he spoke slowly, “wouldn’t it be helpful if you could get information almost directly from the source? I am an Aedile, the protection of my House is paramount. If we can minimize casualties, what is a little betrayal?”

The figure was no smiling cruelly. The contention between the Consul and Proconsul didn’t matter as much to the Corellian now. He had people to protect, and he would not have his path stopped thanks to the foolishness of the Summit. You had to protect family, right?