Star Wars: Starkiller

I never knew my mother, I know I had one but I just don't remember her. As far as I could tell, she was part of the Nightsisters and as a way to keep Mother Talzin from knowing of my existence and to prevent me from suffering the same fate as the rest of my siblings being slaves to the witches of Dathomir she gifted me to my master when I could not yet utter words.

My first memories as a child are of trying to survive the training that Sidious put me through. So my earliest memories, are just flashes for me, whether it be of a crimson blade from his lightsaber or the light from the lightning bolts he was able to create with just his fingertips.

Once I grew up a bit, he began a new stage of my training on which he started to leave me stranded on desolate and extremely dangerous worlds to make me learn how to survive on my own. Several times I almost died, so many that I lost count, but...I survived. My master seemed pleased with this, I still remember his expression when I survived the icy tundras of Hoth, he seemed relieved that he didn't have to look for another apprentice to replace me so soon.

However, once I passed that, I remember that was when I initially began my training to become a Sith, an assassin under my master, I was so excited to start and to make my master proud, so I trained, I trained until my muscles tore, until my bones broke, until streams of blood poured from my broken knuckles. And do it every day, keeping me on my feet only by the power of the dark side.

I went on like that for several years, until finally one day when I was 18, my master concluded that I was ready for him to give me missions, but before that he informed me that he had orchestrated a meeting with the one who would actually decide if I was ready or not. My master did not give many details, so I decided not to ask and wait to meet him for myself.

A few days later, he arrived. His appearance at first glance was that of a Muun: tall and slender, with long limbs and skin as pale as marble. His face, elongated and austere, lacked all expression save for sunken, cold eyes, dark wells where an unfathomable intellect seemed to swirl, his mouth and jaw covered by a kind of breathing mask, making him appear frail. However, his appearance did not deceive me. Being in his presence was as if an unstoppable force was oppressing me with his existence alone, an invisible pressure informing me how insignificant I was in the face of his power.

"So this is the assassin you were training?" the Muun said as he approached me, he seemed to scan me with his gaze, analyzing me minutely, while I stood still and silent without moving, letting him make his inspection. After a few seconds, he turned to my master.

"It looks tough, it can probably take down any soldier or mercenary it encounters," he said in a tone of approval, to which I internally smiled and relaxed my posture slightly. "However," he said with a tone of suspicion, my posture becoming somewhat tense but firm again. "You think he'll be able to stand up to Jedi?" He turned to my master. "My apprentice."

At the word apprentice, my eyes widened slightly though they quickly returned to their neutral expression, careful not to express any emotion in front of what was apparently my own Master's Master.

"I understand your doubts, Master. However, believe me Lord Plagueis when I tell you, he is ready for any challenge you encounter, if you are too unsure take the liberty to test him in any way you find necessary Lord Plagueis."

In response, the Muun turned his gaze back to me, his expression seemed somewhat thoughtful as if seeing in what way he might test my abilities. Until his eyes seemed at last to make up his mind.

"Well, in that case," the Muun said as with a hiss he ignited his lightsaber, a blade of red now illuminating my training room with its crimson glow. "Show me what you are capable of assassin."

Automatically, I shifted into Jar'Kai's form as I drew my own lightsaber, this one being a dualsaber similar to the zhaboka carried by my people.

This time two hiss were heard as the twin blades of my saber ignited, radiating a crimson glow. The muun seemed to smile at this, despite hiding his mouth behind his mask.

"Come to me." He said simply to which I felt my pupils dilate from the adrenaline beginning to rush through my body and shifting into Juyo form I pounced on him in the blink of an eye, spinning my dualsaber with great speed.

My saber spun in a crimson whirlwind as I lunged at Plagueis, quickly switching between quick and precise attacks in Juyo form. My offense was relentless: diagonal strikes, thrusts to vital points, feints calculated to force him to uncover himself.

But the Muun would not yield.

With exasperating calm, he intercepted each of my attacks with minimal movement, his saber gliding with surgical precision to deflect my blades with little effort. There was no fury in him, no aggression; just a cool efficiency that turned my offense into a simple exercise in patience.

"Ah, the seventh form, Juyo... the form of ferocity," he mused as he parried a downward slash with a single hand. "But I see your mastery of Jar'Kai is still inefficient."

I gritted my teeth and spun on my axis, launching a side slash that, had it hit its target, would have split the Muun from hip to shoulder. But Plagueis, with an almost insulting elegance, bent his torso slightly and let the blade pass mere inches from him, before slamming his elbow into my chest.

The impact knocked the wind out of me and knocked me back several steps.

I did not allow myself to hesitate. I propelled myself with the Force and leapt at him, spinning in the air as my sabers traced a lethal pattern. This time I managed to get him to move, watching him back up a step as he intercepted my attacks. His eyes narrowed slightly as I landed in front of him and I charged again.

I increased my speed.

My red blades created a whirlwind of light around us, attacking from multiple angles in rapid succession. Each strike was stronger than the last, each movement faster. Part of me knew I was getting carried away with rage, but I didn't care. If Plagueis wanted to see my skill, I would show it to him.

For the first time, I saw something resembling effort in him. He was moving faster, his saber tracing subtle counterattacks that tried to unsettle my rhythm. I narrowly evaded him, leaning back as his blade passed millimeters from my throat.

I am no mere apprentice. I am a warrior. I am a Sith.

I roared and unleashed a storm of blows, pressing him with all my skill. Plagueis blocked one thrust and deflected the second with a graceful flick of his wrist, but at last I saw an opportunity.

My leg shot out in a side kick straight at his torso.

The impact echoed through the training room as the Muun was sent backward several feet, sliding across the floor with his tunic billowing. He didn't fall, but when he stopped, his eyes were assessing me in a different way.

Something in his posture changed.

He was no longer gauging my skill. Now, he was taking me seriously.

Plagueis extended his free hand and I felt the Force crash against me like a wave of pure invisible pressure. My body was thrown backward with brutality, slamming against the wall. Before I could react, he was already upon me.

I blocked his attack out of instinct, but his blade descended with terrifying precision, slicing through the air with an economy of motion that made each strike nearly impossible to parry. My defense was weakening with each impact.

I tried to use my speed to move away, but Plagueis anticipated it.

His saber came down in a sideways slash, and though I managed to block it, his leg came up and struck me in the knee with the force of a pressed duracero. My leg buckled and I fell to one knee with a grunt of pain.

Plagueis took advantage of my vulnerability.

Before I could react, his saber slid across my defense and his crimson blade passed just past the side of my face, close enough for me to feel its searing heat on my skin.

One more mistake and I would be dead.

I forced myself to react. I took advantage of the closeness and turned my body to sweep at his leg, but he leapt over it with daunting ease and landed behind me. As soon as I turned, his saber was already pointed at my neck.

The room fell silent, except for the hum of our sabers igniting.

I was breathing hard. My body ached from the impact, but my eyes still burned with determination.

Plagueis watched me silently for a few moments. Then, with a hiss, he extinguished his saber.

"Good enough." He said neutrally.

I didn't know if it was praise or a simple statement of fact, but something in his tone made me feel that the ordeal was over.

He turned to leave.

"Sidious has forged in you a weapon. A sharp tool, created to destroy. But even weapons can break if not used wisely."

I struggled to my feet, extinguishing my sabers with a gesture.

"So, am I fit?" I asked, my voice steady despite my fatigue.

Plagueis paused at the threshold of the room.

"You are sufficient for what is expected of you," he sentenced. "We'll see if you can become something more."

And with that, he left, my master following close behind.

I stayed in the room, breathing deeply. My body was still feeling the effects of combat, but my mind was focused on only one thing.

I had passed the test.

---

"Okay, that's not what I was looking for."

My voice sounded distant, almost disconnected from reality. My thoughts were too immersed in Maul's tangle of fragmented memories. My hand remained extended over his skull, fingers barely grazing his tattooed skin, a sufficient point of contact to maintain the connection.

I reached deeper.

The zabrak's memories were a chaotic whirlwind, like an uncontrolled storm that had swept through the coherence of his mind. It didn't take long to notice a pattern: at a certain point in his history, his memory became a jumble of distorted images, echoes of a past mired in rage and pain. Some scenes were sharp, marked by his hatred for Obi-Wan Kenobi, by the humiliation he suffered at the hands of Sidious, by his fall from power when he tried to set himself up as a crime lord. Others, on the other hand, were barely disjointed shadows, as if his mind had been consumed by chaos to the point of clouding his own perception of time and events.

I gritted my teeth.

"If I want to find the information about the Mass Shadow Generator, I have to look deeper."

Maul's body trembled slightly under my control, but his consciousness was trapped in the trance I had plunged him into. His breathing was erratic, like that of someone caught in a nightmare he couldn't remember upon awakening.

With my eyes closed, I dove back in.

Memories surrounded me like a turbulent ocean. I could feel the intensity of his anger, a feeling that defined him more than anything else. But amidst the flames of his hatred, there was also pain. Not physical pain, but something deeper. Something he had tried to bury beneath his lust for revenge.

It was almost imperceptible. A thread of sadness, of emptiness... of loss.

Interesting.

I ignored the irrelevant memories and moved forward with more determination, navigating through the scattered fragments of his past. Each memory was a battlefield in itself, a struggle against its own madness, against its despair, against the shadow of what it once was.

It took me what seemed like hours.

Until I found it.

A flash. A sharp image. I dove in immediately.

And suddenly, it wasn't me anymore.

It was Maul again. I saw everything through his eyes.

---

The air in the room was thick, laden with the scent of cheap incense and the dust of forgotten documents. The dim lighting cast elongated shadows on the metal walls of the fortress in which I had established my domain. In front of me, a holoprojector crackled with incomplete data, maps of illegal hyperspace routes and records of lost artifacts. But what really interested me was in my hands.

An old, yellowed papyrus, its edges frayed by time, rested on the table. It had been a gift from one of my subordinates, a disgraced former scholar now selling knowledge to the highest bidder. "This comes from a forgotten world in the archives of the Republic," he had told me reverently, as if handing me a fragment of forbidden power.

I spread my fingers over the surface of the papyrus and let my gaze roam over the intricate strokes written in a dead language.

Mass Shadow Generator.

The term repeated itself in my mind as I patiently deciphered the words. It was no ordinary weapon. It was not something designed to conquer. It was something made to eradicate.

The records spoke of its use on Malachor V, during the Mandalorian Wars. They described how its activation had turned an entire world into a graveyard of metal and ash, drawing with its uncontrolled gravity ships, structures and bodies in a fatal dance until all was reduced to a landscape of petrified ruins.

My lips curved into a dark smile.

"A weapon of total destruction..." I muttered to myself, feeling a strange thrill at the thought of such absolute power. Not the power of a lightsaber, not the power of deception or political manipulation, but the power to erase existence with a single command.

I ran my fingers over the parchment, making sure to memorize every symbol, every reference. If this technology still existed in some corner of the galaxy, it could be harnessed. Not for conquest. Not for the Empire.

For me.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. The Force vibrated in the room, reacting to my thoughts. I had been a Sith, I had been a criminal, and now I was something else. Something different. But the thirst for power would never leave me.

Finally, I rolled the papyrus carefully and stored it in a containment cylinder.

"Keep an eye on it," I ordered one of my guards. "If anyone asks for him...kill him."

The subordinate nodded without question.

I turned and walked into the gloom.

---

"So that's how you learned of his existence and how you knew to look."

The words left my lips in a thoughtful whisper as the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked together in my mind. Maul hadn't been following unsubstantiated rumors or vague stories. No, he had seen something real, something tangible in his endless obsession for power and revenge.

But now my search was over.

I exhaled slowly, allowing the energy of the Force to flow from my fingers to the zabrak's forehead. With a single touch of my index finger, I broke the trance into which I had plunged him. Maul's body, which until that moment had stood rigid as a statue, shuddered with a jolt before collapsing heavily against the stone floor. His breathing was ragged, his muscles still tense from the resistance he had put up even in his unconsciousness.

I watched him silently for a moment. Even in his vulnerable state, the former Sith retained his untamed essence. He was no mere pawn, no directionless fanatic. He was something more... something dangerous.

"You have been most helpful, Maul." My voice sounded neutral, but with a definite nuance in every syllable. "But I fear I will have to leave you in this world."

I turned without further ado, my footsteps echoing on the worn ground as I headed back down the path that had brought me to this forgotten sanctuary.

I didn't look back.

"Nothing personal." My tone was almost nonchalant, as if what I had just done carried no weight on my conscience. "But I don't trust you."

I paused for a moment before continuing.

"Still, I pulled you out of the trance. As much as I don't trust you, I couldn't just leave you like that forever. I don't know if my compassion stems from having witnessed much of your life through your own eyes, or if to some extent... I've changed."

A pause.

The thought hung in the air for a few seconds, but then I dismissed it with a slight shake of my head. "Either way, it doesn't matter anymore."

I adjusted the holocron in my pocket, making sure it was well guarded. The knowledge I had gained was dangerous. Too dangerous. But hopefully, if I acted quickly, I would be able to find the weapon before anyone else... and destroy it before it fell into the wrong hands.

"You are free, Maul."

My voice echoed through the sanctuary as I took one last look at the unconscious zabrak on the floor. I didn't know how long it would take for him to wake up, but I hoped to be long gone from this dead world by then.

I turned toward the exit, striding steadily into the darkness of the hallway I had come through.

"Farewell, Darth Maul."

And with an almost symbolic gesture, I gave a slight wave of my hand before disappearing into the shadows, leaving the former Sith behind and taking with me the only hope of preventing the past from repeating itself again.

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