- The imperials took me as a slave, a prisoner of war - they are calling me a laborer, a prospect.
- They hold us in isolation on their destroyer, and periodically let us out to be tortured and humiliated. They keep us hungry and weak, so that we cannot overpower them.
- During our final orbit of my homeworld, I watched as they reft it of life, erasing my former existance. I was somebody, had a family, friends. Now I am nobody, a husk.
- when one of the imperial torturers loosened my restraints I sliced his jugular with a vibro-blade from the instrument table; I enjoyed watching him bleed out - mother would have been devastated.
- A robed man came to see me. He smiled when he asked about the torturer's death - then he shocked me with lightning from his finger tips for my insolence. The pain was nothing like the other torturers; the pain stayed with me long into the night robbed me of sleep.
- The torturing has become more frequent, like clock work. I don't feel the pain anymore - just a routine. I hate what they have done to me - I want to feel them suffer. I don't even remember what my mother looks like or even sounds like, just the pain. The robed man says we are destined for Korriban, he says I am stronger than the others - many of the other slaves have already died. I don't know why I am holding on; perhaps, to see my captor's destruction after I rend their bodies.
- Illegible scribblings -
-His darkness touched the light inside me, and now there is a hunger - A shadow where there was light I suffered convulsions that lasted days and aged me rapidly, but granted me force sensitivity and power beyond comprehension.
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