The Dark Side thrummed in anticipation. There was blood, fear, anger, death, and suffering to feed it. The events that were to unfold rippled backward into the minds of all those who would dare open their ears to it. The screams of dying men filled Silas' mind. The music a crescendo to the pulsing of the Force in him. His breaths quickened. The moment before a battle was like the lingering touch of a lover just before the first time they made love. It was patient ecstasy. It was a promise of fulfillment and an end to need. Silas' lips pulled into a grin at the sight of a Twi'lek's dying face. He had never seen that man before. He did not know his tale or what his dreams were. He only knew that he would kill him. The massive Sith could feel the Twi'lek's dismay ripple to him from the future. It was water and wine to a man dying of thirst. 

Silas turned his attention to the men around him. He stood nearly a head taller than each and every one of them. Many of them were powerful and skilled, but, none had his prodigious size. He loomed like a shadow over the faces of men, and yet, could vanish from them just as quickly. He rather enjoyed the strange powers he possessed. Many times the stories were told about small men and women using their guile and stealth to evade and defeat their foes. Silas enjoyed both ends of the spectrum. He could seem to vanish in plain sight and reappear when it was most terrible for his foes. When he chose to be seen, he was a tower of fear and menace. Both of his companions were slight of build, yet still powerful, and, the contrast with him was amusing. He looked over at them as they crossed his mind. They both were holding hands, as they always did before a battle. They feared what they had become. why should they not? Their lives had all been stolen and then they were taught to turn aside all laws and limits. Their master of course was the exception to that tenant. Weakness. Silas hated that the three of them were used and tossed aside like tools. They were worth far more than just murdering children. 

The ship shook again, the anti-air towers were operational. Just like his dream had warned. They could do little to the ship though. It was only an annoyance. Silas' enhanced senses picked up the twist of the nozzle on Maegr's atomizer. Silas frowned. It was his biggest failure. Both his and Arianna's. They had failed to keep those drugs from being a part of Maegr's life. They had tried to help as much as they could. Arianna did not have Silas' gift of stealth though, she was caught. He could not save her from the torment their master had inflicted. The Sith's hand tensed, his gloves stretching in protest of the tightness. The Sith seized his hatred for his master. He inhaled it as his placed the blast mask over his dark skinned face. The mask let out a hiss as it attached to the lining around his face. He grasped the hood of his dark gray officer's coat and pulled it up over his very short hair, attaching it to the mask as well so it would not fall. He rolled his large shoulders and felt his mouth pull into a spiteful grin as the hatch opened revealing their victims. 

Silas landed with his two companions, saber springing to life in his massive hand. His visor picked out nearly thirty targets in the surrounding area. The data was forwarded to the pilot of the Ravenbeak and in a few seconds the soldiers were laid to waste in a haze of ship board weapons fire. Silas looked around, letting his visor and enhanced sight pick out any other threats. His visor marked each of the defense towers and he sent the information and target data to the storm troopers. They were professionals, and, skilled soldiers they did not need him to command them to do what needed to be done. He would just keep an open channel with them and continue to feed them tactical data. Silas began to walk toward the front entrance of the temple, cloaked from detection in the Force. 

As he neared the door it was quickly thrown open by three soldiers. Each of them held a thermal detonator, ready to throw. They looked over silas and to his companions. He raised his hand, catching the three grenades just before they left the men's hands. The balls hovered in mid air for no reason as far as the men could tell. Each one of them stared, dumbfounded by the hovering explosives. Their confusion was cut brutally short by the detonators exploding and reducing the men and most of the doorway to smoke and vapor. Silas turned from the door looking at his two friends. Behind his mask he was grinning, eyes wild. On the outside he was a faceless thing in a gray uniform, emotionless. His deep voice radiated out of the mask with a robotic quality, "Did you see the looks on their faces!?" he punctuated the statement with a short burst of laughter, then made an explosion sound with his lips before turning back to the blown open door.