Яппаньки вам,уважаем(ый)(ая)(ое)!

the Force from their bodies, to
watch them crumble to dust as their essence evaporated." But I know such
thoughts are not my own. They are the darkstaff's thoughts. It would use me to
drain others, and then it would drain me.

It pulled me here. It will pull more of us here. But I will do what none
of them have the wisdom to do. I, who know what I face, will build on this
world a defense, a means of ensuring that this object cannot ever be taken
from this system.

I've been working with a holocron, trying to pull up anything that might
allow me to better understand the darkstaff. I now believe it was created by
one of my forebears, though the generations that have passed since its
creation I cannot count. I also have trouble fathoming why the thing would
have ever been made, and I have come to conclude that it was an accident, a
byproduct of some strange experiment that could not be undone - - and that
ultimately was the undoing of its creator.

The Force is our tool, after all. It is what makes us powerful, what
allows us to stand above those who would put us down. An object that feeds
upon the Force - - which may, in fact, store the Force within it, for whatever
purposes it might ultimately have - - is antithetical to our existence, and
any of us who created such a thing would surely have wanted it destroyed. Yet
it exists, and any record of its creator is long gone.

I've not seen it physically, but I know what it looks like. One meter in
length and perhaps four centimeters in diameter, it sucks at the light just as
it sucks at the Force. It wants energy, power. It wants to destroy. It wants
to end lives. It wants - - and that, by itself, is the most disturbing aspect,
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