I was messing around with a notebook and an antique fountain pen and wrote this:

Freedom

'Freedom' we call as we raise our weapons
The score marks on our helmets stay to remind us
With each trooper that falls, the faces blur
We will not give up, our blasterfire proves it
As every shot resists the Empire with each burst of plasma
'Freedom' we shout and rush into battle
If we fall, it will be for what we believe
No longer will tyranny reign us with fear
The planets that fight, the worlds that resist
Each gives testament to what we believe
'Freedom' we cry through throats clogged with smoke
We will return all the Empire stole
All different races, yet our hearts beat the same
With each hollow pound that defies the oppressor
'Freedom' we pray, falling down on our knees
'Do not let the enemy destroy our lives and our hopes'
Then to our weary feet, we push
To prepare with hearts of durasteel
For battle, once again

So...yeah. Tell me if you liked it. Or if you think it sucked. Either or.

On to the chapter!!!

Arene sat cross-legged on the ground in the dim light from the dark sky overhead, lightsaber on the ground in front of her. Beside her, Plagueis lounged against a rock, eating a yogan fruit. He bit into it, and the crunch echoed loud in the stillness of the night.
A year ago, the dark mixed with silence would have terrified her, but now, much had changed. Now, she was taking a break from lightsaber combat training with a Sith Lord, who was munching a yogan. And the thought didn't faze her. Kind of funny, actually. She smiled at the thought.
Arene turned to Plagueis. "Who were you, before you became a Sith Lord?"
Plagueis looked into the night sky, a frown creasing his brow. "Who was I?" He sighed. "It was so long ago, I do not remember my old name." A ghost of a smile touched his mouth, making the corners tilt upward slightly. "But I was with the banking clan. In quite a prestigious place. And then..." He turned to her, looking at her sharply. "But that time is passed for me, and I am that person no longer."
Arene stuck her chin out, stubbornness filling her with recklessness. "And then your apprentice betrayed you. Why do you not say it?"
Plagueis threw her a dark glance. "I do not avoid saying it. There are many things you must keep within you as reservoir of strength for the future."
Arene frowned. "I do not know much about the power of the Force, but I do know that anger is not the way."
Plagueis straightened. "You are correct."
Arene nearly fell backward in shock, but the Sith was not finished. He continued, "You are very ignorant. The Dark Side is the true, purest version of the Force, and those who wield it gain a power so unimaginable, I could not begin to explain it to you."
"But they gain that power in exchange for themselves. You lose the person you are, and become nothing more than a slave to evil!"
Plagueis stood fully. "Your insolence is unacceptable. You know nothing of the Dark Side!"
"When you took my body, I felt it, as if I were the one using its twisted, dark power! You say I know nothing, but I know more than many Darksiders. I know because I felt my hands do things they should not, felt my mind wander to places forbidden. The Darkness may give quick results, but it is a trap!"
Plagueis moved then, spinning towards her and igniting his blade in one fluid movement, leaving Arene scrambling to stand and defend herself from attack.
She blocked, still half on her knees, but he pushed down on her, forcing her to one knee. He did not speak, letting his fiery eyes say everything. His anger pulsed in the Force, almost a living creature in its intensity. She pushed back, relieving some of the pressure on her knees, and was able to stand, forcing him back a step. He glared at her. "You are weak. The Light is nothing to the truth and freedom of the Dark!"
Arene ignored his anger. "Why did you give up your very soul? For power?"
Plagueis disengaged his blade from hers, spinning it towards her face, but she blocked, sending it away from her body.
Plagueis swung a blow towards her feet, but Arene jumped and thrust her saber towards his midsection, knowing he would block. He did, pointing her own lazersword towards her face.
She ducked, pulling her blade free from the friction. She stopped, and so did he. He breathed heavily, but Arene knew it was out of anger, not fatigue. "Yes," he answered. "It was for power, but it was also my fate."
"Nothing is set in stone, Plagueis."
Plagueis moved forward again, but this time Arene was ready. She blocked his attack easily, her purple blade flying into his, making them clash loudly and sending a jolt reverberating through her arm.
She pushed him back, swinging her blade over her head, putting him on the defensive. "Let go of your anger, Plagueis. It is not the true way."
He blocked, stepping backwards, and Arene took advantage of it. She moved towards him, saber moving in a spin. She knocked his blade from his hand, burning his hand in the process. The saber landed at the edge of the clearing, and she held her own ready.
Plagueis smiled, shaking his head. "I will not argue with you any longer, as I see you are more prepared than I had believed." He straightened. "No more lessons do you require. You have bested me, and in so doing, ended lightsaber combat training."
Arene was beyond surprised, but she hid her shock, nodding once and sheathing her blade.
"Thank you for your lessons." She relaxed her posture, clipping her lightsaber to her belt.
He nodded, and they both turned, making their way back to the base.
~//~
Ezra woke groggily to a throbbing pain on his right hand and sat up, rubbing his face with the other. He looked at his hand, then blinked. "What in the stars..."
There was a burn, about half the size of an imagecaster, on the palm of his hand. He winced, suddenly aware of how painful it was. He looked closer. "It's a lightsaber burn!"
He climbed out of his bunk and opened his door. He needed a salve.
In his mind, Plagueis was silent, which was not a good sign.
He made it to the medical bay, received the burn salve from the droid, and made his way back to his quarters, the pain already fading. In his room, Ezra frowned in determination.
Plagueis, we need to talk.

Evil is not born, it is taught.
~Jedi Proverb