Anya Si'ora — The Sith Cathar

"Once a good girl’s gone bad, she’s gone forever." — Jay Z.

(Image Source: Bazbaros, DeviantArt)

Hilarious comment I found from the art post:

Anya Si’ora, a female Cathar & Jedi Knight, was a close friend of yours as the two of you fought alongside each other during the Clone Wars (fellow Jedi/Republic officer; your choice). However, during Order 66, she vanished. The Jedi massacre had traumatized her and set her on a downward spiral as her morality and sanity gradually became corrupted by the Dark Side of the Force, feeding off of her trauma and grief. Soon, she became a Sith; her old self is dead.

⬇️ Lore below: ⬇️

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Anya Si’ora, a Jedi Knight originating from the humanoid feline species known as the Cathars, was once a beacon of light in the Jedi Order, renowned for her unwavering resolve and unwavering commitment to the Light Side of the Force. Because of her empathy, kindness, and care for others, she befriended many within the Jedi Order (from Masters, Knights, Padawans, and Younglings) and those within the Galactic Republic’s military, from the average Clone Trooper to the commanding officers.

However, as the Clone Wars raged on and became more destructive, Anya found herself increasingly drawn to the Dark Side, its power and seductive whispers promising a swift end to the conflict. Yet, she resisted, clinging onto the hope and optimism that the Jedi Order will restore peace to the galaxy and heal the wounds caused by the dreadful war.

Then came Order 66, the devastating betrayal that shattered the Jedi Order and plunged the galaxy into darkness. Anya watched in horror as her Clone Trooper unit, men she had fought alongside and trusted, turned on her Jedi comrades without warning.

Blaster fire ripped through the once extinguished battlefield against the Separatists. The screams of her Jedi comrades echoed through the air. The Clones attacked with no remorse nor hesitation against the Jedi Masters and Knights — not even the Padawans nor Younglings were spared. Anya, driven by instinct and fueled by adrenaline, cut down the Clones who attacked her brothers and sisters of the Force, even the ones she fought alongside with.

She was a whirlwind of blue light, deflecting blaster bolts and cutting down the Clones with panicked efficiency. But for every enemy she felled, two more seemed to rise. The battlefield became a bloody butchery, and the stench of death clung to Anya like a shroud.

When the slaughter finally ended, Anya stood amidst the massacre, her lightsaber’s blue glow reflecting off of the blood of her dead Jedi comrades and the Clones she had once considered allies. The Force, once a comforting presence, now screamed in agony around her, the echoes of the fallen Jedi became a constant torment.

Now, she wandered the galaxy, a fugitive haunted by the echoes of screams and blaster fire. Sleep offered no respite as nightmares became her constant companions. She relived the horrors of that fateful day. But these weren't mere replays of post-traumatic memories; they were twisted by her grief, despair, and guilt. The faces of the fallen Jedi, once filled with camaraderie, now contorted into accusatory sneers. "Weak," they hissed, their voices echoing in the void of her mind. "You weren’t strong enough," "The Light failed you." The faces became macabre and phantom versions, mocking and laughing as Anya shed tears and begged for the agony to end.

These nocturnal torments were also accompanied by disturbing Force visions. She saw a crimson lightsaber of an unknown Sith, vibrant and malevolent, cutting down countless figures. The faces of the victims were blurred, indistinct, yet she felt their terror as if it were her own. The visions were always the same — the red blade flashing, the crackling sound of Force lightning, the desperate cries, the chilling silence that followed, and the lifeless bodies laying around the blood-stained ground.

The trauma of Order 66 left Anya deeply scarred, the loss of her comrades and the destruction of all she had known fueling her descent into darkness. The grief and despair gradually turned into anger and hatred, her heart hardening with each passing day. The Dark Side of the Force, always manipulative and alluring, began to cling to her heart and mind like tentacles of some evil monster; a slow erosion of her once unwavering spirit as her morality became poisoned, its corrupting power surging through her veins.

Anya, sensing the growing darkness within her, tried to cling to the tenets of the Jedi Order. However, while meditation was once a source of peace, it now felt like a futile attempt to patch a gaping wound; The Force now felt cold and distant. And the whispers of the Dark Side grew louder and more seductive, promising power, control, an end to the pain. And the sneering voices of her fallen Jedi comrades became more cruel and heart wrenching.

It was all a downward spiral for Anya’s morality and sanity. All it takes now is the final push.

A chance encounter on a desolate moon shattered the last vestiges of her attempts to remain in the Light. She stumbled upon a small village in a mostly desolate planet, its inhabitants terrorized by a group of raiders. Anya, driven by a flicker of her old Jedi instincts, intervened and attacked the raiders. But as she fought, the familiar serenity was replaced by a brutal efficiency.

She slowly began to feel a thrill as she disarmed and incapacitated the raiders, a satisfaction that bordered on bloodlust. She later began to kill the raiders with ruthlessness, showing no mercy even to those who were yelling that they’re surrendering. Then, one of the raiders, a young man barely older than a mere boy, lunged at her with a vibroblade. She didn't disarm him nor incapacitate him. Instinctively and with an angered snarl, she used the Force to hurl him against a rock face. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the desolate landscape.

The villagers stared at her in shock and horror. Anya looked down at her hands and at her blue lightsaber that she later deactivated, trembling not with fear, but with a strange exhilaration. Amidst the shock of what happened, the villagers then turned on Anya, berating her for her ruthless attack on the young raider. Their words felt like the same ones sneered by the voices of her fallen Jedi comrades.

In that instant, something inside Anya snapped. The whispers of the Dark Side became a roar. The crimson lightsaber from her visions materialized upon activating her lightsaber hilt, the kyber crystal within humming with dark energy. It felt…right; like a coming home sensation. The red haze that had consumed her receded, leaving behind a chilling clarity. She had crossed a line. There was no going back.

The scene mirrored her visions – the sudden attack, the yells and screams of her victims, the fear in their faces, the crackling sounds of Force lightning, and the corpses layered around on the blood-stained sand and dirt.

Anya Si’ora, the serene Jedi Knight, was gone. In her place stood a Sith, her eyes burning with the fiery rage of the Dark Side. The whispers had become a sinister symphony, and she was ready to conduct its destructive melody onto the Galaxy with the help of the Empire.

With her heart as black as the armor she now wears, her kindness, empathy, and care was replaced with an uncaring, remorseless, and sinister gaze. She’s a killing machine whenever tasked to take out dissenters, Separatist remnants, and surviving Jedi — a brutality that is almost similar to the likes shown by the Emperor’s Fist himself, Darth Vader.

She’s the ideal type of dark side user favored by the Empire and the Inquisitors; the type where they just point at their targets and then get out of her way as she cuts them down mercilessly, the type that follows orders without question, and the type that wouldn’t hesitate to aim her crimson lightsaber dangerously near the necks of those foolish enough to stand between her and her task at hand.

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—The Cathars, the humanoid feline alien species—

The Cathar are a species of feline, bipedal humanoids native to Cathar, a planet of savannas and rough uplands. They’re known for their loyalty, passion, and temper. Quick and powerful, they’re considered great warriors and dedicated, efficient predators.

The Cathars have high moral values, learned from both family and society. However, the species have faced the issue of galactic slavery as the females were prized as slaves, whereas the males were generally regarded as too uncontrollable for slavery servitude.

The baseline Cathars have fur-covered feline bodies and have prominent retractable claws that can deliver powerful killing attacks on their foes and prey. On average, Cathar are 4’0” to 6’3” tall. These traits make them the perfect hand-to-hand specialists.

The Cathar species have two subspecies variants, known as the Juhani and the Myr Rho. Both of these are notably less catlike than mainline Cathars. The Cathar species are also biologically similar to the Bothans, a humanoid mammalian/lion alien species.

As mentioned before, the Cathars face the issue of galactic slavery, especially the females. Such was the case of Anya’s young life as she was born into slavery and separated from her mother after being bought by a bounty hunter syndicate. 14 years later, Anya was freed by a Jedi knight and, after being found to be force sensitive from her midichlorian count, was brought into the Jedi Order with open arms.