Chapter Text
On the planet of Yavin 4, within its jungle canopies, a soft hum of construction fills the air. Ant droids scurry around carrying slabs of marble building what looks to be the walls of a temple. The architecture of the structure was round, blending into the background of the forest with unfinished walls. In the heart of the stonework, was a courtyard, with stone paths leading to different chambers.
In one chamber, surrounded by relics, stood Luke Skywalker.
The hallway he was in was quiet, with only the slight buzzing and beeps of the droids outside. Along the walls of the chambers were Jedi artifacts, gathered across years of searching. Luke moved from shelf to shelf, letting his gaze fall on them, each one pulsing gently in the Force. On one shelf was the Jedi compass, its bronze surface shining in the morning light. Luke had discovered that one in the ruins of one of the Emperor’s secret libraries. It was a device that was used to locate force nexuses across the galaxy. Next to it, were different types of Jedi holocrons, some rectangular and some pyramid shaped. Some of them even bore the symbol of the High council. Luke admired the patterns of a round circular one, and activated it with a flick of the Force.
A hologram emerged of Master Luminara Unduli. Her posture and words were calm and smooth. A Jedi’s life is service. We serve the Republic. But most importantly, we serve the Force. Peace is our armor. Compassion, our blade. Luke watched her image fade. On another shelf were lightsabers of every form and age. Some had hilts made of leather-wrapped wood, others were polished durasteel. A few were rusted, their crystals long dead. In the center of the display, mounted, sat the sabers of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Master Yoda. Their presence lingered within them, even if only in memory.
Beside the sabers were aged Jedi texts lined on a bookshelf. Luke spent so much time reading and analyzing them that he’d memorized entire passages. Some of the texts described lightsaber forms, from Shii-Cho to Soresu, complete with even hand drawn diagrams. Others were historical records or spiritual meditations. One text in particular was always open. The Jedi Code, in its oldest known form, pre-Ruusan.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.
This code was the core of the Jedi Order. It was what he needed to make sure he practiced and turned to when he doubted himself. And he doubted himself often. If I’m going to rebuild the Jedi Order… I have to understand it. All of it. Or else how can I teach what I don’t know myself?
But despite his growing knowledge, despite the texts, the relics, the meditations, something still weighed on him.
His gaze drifted towards a shelf in the far corner. There resting alone, was a long, weathered dual blade lightsaber hilt. Its casing was burned, pitted with scoring marks. But what separated it from the rest of the artifacts wasn't the fact that it was the only thing on that shelf, but its force. Its Kyber crystal was clearly soaked in a different type of energy. An energy not made by a Jedi. But rather a Sith.
Looking at it always gave Luke pause. He knew what he had to do. By creating a Jedi school, he would be honoring his master's by saving and teaching the next generation of students. And by following the teaching methods of the Old Jedi Order, he would be honoring those that sacrificed their lives to bring peace to the galaxy and to the force.
But if that was the case, he thought as he looked at the lightsaber in front of him, why did people still fall to the dark side? No matter what was done, even in the Old Order, the dark always lingered. He thought about his father. If his father had truly followed the rules, never fell in love with his mother, would he have truly never fallen? Will detachment truly fend off the dark, or no matter where the light shines, will the shadow always be lurking?
Luke didn’t reach for the lightsaber. He never did. But he remembered the moment he came into possession of it. The man who once wielded it had taught Luke something no Jedi text ever had. The dark side isn’t what you think it is. It’s not death or evil. It’s pain. And pain... can be shaped.
A soft beep broke his thoughts. R2-D2 had rolled into the chamber, chirping at him impatiently.
Luke glanced at the droid and smiled faintly. “Yeah, I know, R2. I just like to remind myself why we’re doing this.”
R2 beeped again, more insistently.
Luke laughed softly. “Alright, alright. I’ll go see her. Force knows she doesn’t appreciate tardiness.”
He turned to leave—but not before casting one last look at the saber on the shelf. Just follow the teachings. Follow the past. Maybe then it’ll all work out.
He stepped into the courtyard, bathed in the golden morning light. The Uneti tree, grown from what remained of the Great Tree from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, stood at the center of the courtyard. Despite it being only a few years old, its leaves rustled gently in the wind, and the Force around them hummed with calm, old life. It’ll become quite the sight once it reaches its full size and maturity, Luke thought.
The temple grounds were beautiful, even half-finished. Stone paths curled through the grass like veins, and each dome was placed with intention. Someday, when it was complete, this place would rival even the great temples of old. But already it felt alive.
Near the outer entrance came Leia her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. Beside her, a boy with tousled black hair and curious eyes tugged at her sleeve.
“Uncle!” Ben shouted, racing toward him.
“Ben!” Luke grinned, kneeling to scoop him into a hug. “Can I go look around?” he asked, turning to his mother.
Leia hesitated. “Alright—but stay away from where the droids are working, alright?”
Ben was already darting off before she finished. R2 followed dutifully, like a metal nanny.
Luke and Leia were left alone.
“Quite the school this is turning out to be,” Leia said as they walked.
Luke nodded, glancing around. “It’s coming together.” He told her about the plans, the layout, the Three Pillars he intended to teach—The Force, Knowledge, and Self-Discipline. He spoke of introducing Shii-Cho, the oldest and most basic lightsaber form which focused on control, disarming, not violence. And then meditation. Always meditation.
Leia smiled, amused by his enthusiasm. “You sound like a real teacher already.” Luke gave her a lopsided grin. “Sure, just missing you know… anyone besides my droids who I can teach.”
Leia chuckles, but then her smile falls a bit at that. “Do you really think you can find them? Children like Ben?”
Luke hesitates, "Hopefully, I mean, I can feel them out there. It’s just turning out to be a bigger challenge than I thought.” Leia’s brow furrowed. “Then when you do find them, will you take them from their families? Start them young, like the old Jedi?”
“I…don’t know.” Luke sighs, “Honestly, I'm still figuring that part out. It’s important to stay true to the Jedi code. And if following the Order is what kept the others on the right path, then it might be for the best, if we truly want to learn to use the force for good.”
They walked a bit in silence.
Then Leia stopped. "Luke, there's something important I need you to do." Luke pauses in his walking, "what is it?"
“It's Ben. He's... getting stronger in the force. More than I can handle. Sometimes I… I see things. Visions. They frighten me.”
Concern fills Luke's face. “What? What do you mean, what have you seen?”
Leia shakes her head, “Please, Luke he needs guidance. He needs you. I... need you to take him,” she said quietly. “Train him, even if it means I won’t see him again.”
Luke was stunned. His throat tightened. He wanted to say something but found nothing. Then Ben came bounding back around the corner, covered in dirt and excited to tell his mother all new stuff his seen. " There's a huge garden!".
Luke smiled at him, but it was distant now.
Later that evening Leia and Ben had gone back to their ship. Leia had some sort of bureaucratic meeting to attend with the New Republic and needed to continue their trip. Luke bid them farewell but not before Leia squeezed his hands in a silent promise for him to think about her request.
The forest was quieter now. R2 beeped Luke goodnight before rolling into standby mode. Luke stood alone beneath the Uneti tree, its branches rustling gently in the night.
He knelt to meditate. Tried to focus. But his thoughts were everywhere.
Leia’s words echoed in his head. Is this what the Force wants? he wondered. He thought of the other children he’d hoped to find and teach. The ones whispered about in the Force, sparks flickering in the dark. He had scoured ancient ruins, listened to old Jedi texts speak of prophecies and balance, followed intuition across stars.
But all he heard was silence.
Maybe Leia's right, he thought bitterly. He wanted to believe in a greater purpose. But every year that passed without any signs chipped away at his dream. Ben was here. He was strong. Gifted. I’ll train Ben. I’ll focus on him first and...I’ll give up the search for now. He exhaled, heavy and defeated.
And then—
A ripple. The Force trembled around him. He could hear a voice, small and distant. Help…
His eyes snapped open.
---
The sky was painted red, and cries echoed throughout the Rift Valley. Mother Talzin stood atop the cliff, her gaze locked onto the scene below. The massacre had begun under the cover of night, with the Nightbrothers attacking with a fury unlike anything seen before. For weeks, tensions had been rising. Whispers of war had spread across Dathomir, and battles were ignited between the Nightsisters and the Nightbrothers.
Conflicts between the Nightsisters and the Nightbrothers were nothing new. While Talzin never concerned herself with the hierarchy imposed upon their people, she was always in support of dismantling the outdated structure. She had long hoped to raise her sons free of such burdens, free of the shackles that had bound their father. However something was different about this war. She could feel it in the way the land itself reacted, in the way the very magick of Dathomir trembled beneath an unnatural force. Something had poisoned their air and people. Talzin clenched her jaw. She had an inkling of who might be behind this.
The Sith Lord could have woven deception easily. Falsified visions, whispered lies. He probably played on old wounds and buried resentments, fanning them into an inferno. And now, the Dathomiri were slaughtering one another under the illusion of an internal uprising, all the while unknowingly carrying out Sidious’s will.
Talzin grip tightened around the infant in her arms. At her side, her six year old trembled silently. Her amulet pulsed against her chest. A warning. A dark hooded figure emerged from the shadows moving toward them. Her blood ran cold. He was here.
The temple behind them was still out of reach. She could feel it, a suffocating presence creeping through the very magick of Dathomir, corrupting and twisting it. Her amulet pulsed with a warning, a sickly glow flashing against her chest. She knew what she had to do. She had lost everything already, her people, her home. But he would not have her child.
She knelt beside the child, her voice urgent but steady. “Take your brother and hide in the caverns beneath the temple.”
The boy hesitated, “But Mother, what about—”
“Go now!” she commanded, forcing the infant into his arms.
Tears welled in the young Zabrack’s eyes, but he obeyed, gripping his baby brother tightly as he ran. Talzin gaze remained fixed on the dark figure approaching. She cannot let this monster leave Dathomir alive.
“Mother Talzin,” Sidious greeted smoothly, “We meet again so soon.”
“I know this is your doing, Sidious,” she spat. “You may fool others with your treachery but I will see it end tonight.” Green mist curled at her feet as she summoned her power, her blade sliding into her palm. Sidious chuckled, his smile condescending. “How peculiar of you to blame me for the downfall of your own kind. What value could possibly be derived from tribal savages?”
Talzin did not waste words. In a blink, she vanished into smoke reappearing behind him with a blade of emerald magick aimed for his heart. Sidious moved as if he had foreseen it, his saber igniting in an instant. The weapons met mid air, crackling the air with energy as the two forces collided.
“All of this could have been avoided,” Sidious mused, parrying and dodging her strikes with ease. “Had you simply handed over the child from the beginning.”
Talzin snarled, her form dissipating into mist once more, her presence spread like a phantom across the battlefield. The ground beneath them darkened, shadows stretching unnaturally. The air warped, shifting into darkness.
Sidious frowned as he turned his gaze. Voices whispered from every direction in total blackness. Talzin had transported them into a void. A realm of pure magick. “How amusing,” Sidious mused, pivoting on his heel. Talzin’s voice echoed from the shadows. “You will regret coming here.”
Green magick lashed out from all directions, tendrils of energy clawing at the Sith Lord. Sidious twisted, his saber moving like a viper, deflecting each strike as the very air seemed to suffocate around him. He turned slashing through a tendril of magick, only for another to wrap around his wrist. More coiled around his legs.
Sidious closed his eyes, reaching out through the Force. Then, with a flick of his wrists, he unleashed a wave of lightning in all directions. The magick shattered like fragile glass, the darkness peeling away.
Talzin reappeared, panting. Sidious moved first. The Force wrapped around her throat, yanking her forward. She raised her hands, summoning her power in a last desperate attempt. But it was too late.
The crimson saber plunged into her chest. Her breath caught, her magick fading as life drained from her body. The glow of her amulet dimmed. Her fingers twitched, grasping at nothing. Sidious leaned in. “Your son belongs to me now”, he whispered in venomous delight, as he dropped her to the ground.
As her vision darkened, her last gaze on the temple. She whispered a final prayer to the magick surrounding her, for revenge, for her son. To protect him and to remember what he truly is.
Sidious turned his gaze toward the ruins ahead. He could feel the child hidden beneath layers of rock and magick. With a flick of his wrist, the cavern entrance ripped apart, stones shattering as the opening was forced wide.The walls trembled.
Inside, Savage shielded his baby brother, his heart pounding. He felt it before he saw it, the overwhelming presence of pure darkness looming above them. Savage turned, gripping his baby brother close, his body trembling. He had nothing that could stand against a monster like this.
But he lunged anyway.
A roar escaped his throat as he charged. Sidious barely moved, and Savage was wrenched into the air before he could even reach him. The young Nightbrother let out a choked gasp as he was slammed into the cavern wall, bones cracking under the force.
The infant cried, his tiny voice piercing the air. Sidious turned his attention to the infant.
“A pity,” he murmured, lifting the child with the Force. The raw power swirling around him was astonishing. Far more than he imagined.
Savage groaned, barely clinging to consciousness, his vision blurred. He could only watch, helpless, as Sidious turned, carrying his brother away.
He tried to move, to crawl after them, but his limbs would not obey. He could only watch as the village burned, as the sky filled with smoke, as the last remnant of his family was taken from him. The village was gone. The Nightsisters were gone. The Nightbrothers were gone. And Maul—his baby brother—was nowhere to be found.
The underground labyrinths were vast and lonely, their durasteel walls stretching endlessly into the dark. Even with the training droids that drilled him every moment of the day, It was lonely. They never spoke to him as a person, never gave him anything resembling kindness or care. Once, a droid with a brown-colored chassis—had shown him the smallest sliver of concern. It had paused its firing when Maul was injured, hesitated before continuing its attack. Sidious had destroyed it the next day.
The display of power had been swift. A lesson carved into Maul’s very bones: compassion was weakness. He could not afford to care, because caring led to pain. But instincts were difficult to kill, and the boy was still just that. A child, grasping for something, anything, to fill the void. So when he found creatures skittering through the cracks in the walls, he could not resist.
The maintenance droids cleared the tunnels regularly, ensuring they were spotless for Sidious’ rare visits, but they never touched the inner storage rooms. That was where Maul found them, a small nest of horned creatures, no larger than newborn womp rats. Their fur was soft, their movements skittish. He had discovered them by accident, drawn by the faint ripple of fear in the Force.
One of them was trapped. A storage bin had fallen over, pinning one of them beneath its weight. The others huddled around it, scratching and gnawing at the metal in an attempt to free their kin. Something inside Maul stirred at the sight, feeling oddly warm at the loyalty and care the little creatures had for each other.
For days, he snuck food to them and even shielded them in the Force, making them invisible to the gaze of his Master whenever he was near. They all seemed to have personalities of their own. One of them followed him around, unafraid and even played with him. He played with the others too sometimes, each one a secret piece of him, a defiant fragment of kindness buried in the darkness of his existence. For the first time, he had something to look forward to. Something that was his.
Then one day, Sidious found them.
The Sith Lord’s silhouette filled the entrance of the tunnel, his presence an abyss of cold and suffocating power. Maul’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t been able to hide them. Maul hadn’t prepared for his arrival, it was out of schedule. Usually he was only on planet for his training and Sidious rarely came this deep into the labyrinth, never without reason. Maul didn't know what to do or what to say. Surely he was going to be punished, seeing as attachments were prohibited. He stood there waiting for the intense pain of something, but nothing happened. The creatures, once playful, now cowered in fear, their tiny bodies trembling against the stone floor. Maul felt his blood run ice cold.
Sidious said nothing at first. He merely raised a hand. One by one, the creatures rose into the air. They screamed.
Maul lunged, desperation choking him, but he was too slow. One by one, they crumpled as Sidious closed his fingers into a fist. The air grew thick with the sickening snap of bones, and then a plop, as they fell to the ground. A few still writhed, barely clinging to life, their broken bodies twitching on the ground.
Sidious turned his gaze to Maul. “Kill them.”Maul froze, his heart hammering against his ribs. He could still save them. He could—
Pain.
Lightning seared through his body, igniting every nerve with white-hot agony. He collapsed, convulsing. Sidious’ voice was quiet, almost gentle. “You will kill them.”
Maul’s vision blurred, he could not tell if it was blood or tears clouding his eyes. He could barely breathe, let alone move. But he knew what would happen if he refused. So, with trembling fingers, he obeyed. Sidious stood above him, his voice as sharp as a blade. “You will never be weak again.”
Then the pain came once more. Lightning crawled over his skin, burning, stripping away the last remnants of warmth, of innocence. When it finally stopped, Maul lay gasping, trembling. His body was his own again, but his soul felt hollow.
Sidious regarded him for a long moment before speaking. “Compassion is weakness. Attachments will be used against you. Do you understand?”
Maul did not answer. His throat was raw, his hands curled into fists so tight that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood.
Sidious’ lips curled, “Good. Now, rise.”
When Maul was thirteen, he was introduced to the pits
The walls were smooth and dark, offering no handholds, no escape. His body ached, bruised from previous lessons. His stomach clenched with hunger, but he had learned that complaining would only bring more punishments. He hated training with droids, their constant firing was merciless. However, whenever Sidious was on planet, he made Maul yearn for a shot from a blaster. Darth Sidious loomed over the pit’s edge, his expression unreadable. "Again," he commanded.
Maul looked up, determination burning in his golden eyes. He leaped, clawing at the smooth walls, his fingers slipping just before reaching the top. He fell back into the darkness, breathless. Sidious watched him, silent, waiting. There was no pity. Only expectation.
"Again," the Sith Lord repeated.
The cycle continued for hours, until Maul could no longer stand. And yet, the lesson was not over. A new sound filled the chamber, a cage door creaking open. From the shadows emerged a creature, its fangs glistening in the dim light. A predator, starved. Its eyes locked on him.
Maul’s fingers curled into fists, fear and anger warring within him. Sidious’s voice cut through the cold air like a blade. "Kill it, or be devoured." The creature lunged and Maul did not hesitate. For the first time, he embraced the rage that had been cultivated within him. And struck.
~
Years later, Darth Maul stands amidst the aftermath of a brutal slaughter. Six Jedi had descended upon him, and six had fallen by his saber. The ground was scorched, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood.
The Padawan lay at his feet, her lifeless eyes staring into the void, a flicker of fear and defiance frozen on her face.
For a moment, something twisted deep within him. Guilt. A foreign, unwelcome feeling clawing at the edges of his consciousness. He told himself it was a weakness, a remnant of a life long erased. And yet, he did not look away.
This was his existence. His purpose. There was no alternative. No escape. No future beyond the carnage.
He inhaled, suppressing the ghosts of doubt before they could fully form. Then, turning from the bodies, he pressed his comm-link."It is done, my master."
Sidious’s voice crackled through the static, smooth and pleased. "Good. Return to me. Your true test begins soon." Maul deactivated his lightsaber, the twin crimson blades vanishing into the darkness.
His path had already been decided.
