Prologue

The man topped a hill dressed in the familiar garb of a Dantooine farmer with the hood of his cloak drawn up over his head. His age could not be determined by his stature or his gait. He stopped at the crest and gazed out at the land below. His pride began to swell as he realized that the planting of his crops also meant that he himself had begun to establish roots for himself.

It had been three standard years since Juno Eclipse and Jedi Master Rahm Kota had encouraged Starkiller to hide himself from the forces of the Empire and the Alliance, as well. At Juno's insistence, Starkiller had come to take on the name and identity of Galen Marek, Darth Vader's secret apprentice who was to help Vader topple Darth Sidious and rule the empire. Through a drastic turn of events, Starkiller turned against his former Sith Master and helped to capture Darth Vader. He and Juno had escorted Vader to Dantooine for trial. Vader's escape came as no surprise. Juno and Master Kota agreed that Dantooine would be the last planet that Vader would look for his former apprentice.

When Juno suggested that he assume Marek's name and identity, Starkiller was opposed to the idea. He struggled to form his own identity and establish his humanity apart from his past and the reality of being Clone Subject 1138 of the true "Galen Marek." The very thought of taking on that persona was almost more than he could bear, yet his experience on Dagobah with Yoda flooded his mind and heart. It was a vision of seeing himself dressed in Jedi robes with light sabers in hand and then eventually seeing Darth Vader hiring Boba Fett to track him down which began his journey away from the Dark Side. This vision ended with Starkiller seeing Juno attacked and wounded. Betrayal and seeing the love of his life wounded had a profound effect on Starkiller.

He had struggled with the full meaning of that vision ever since. "Why would he see himself dressed in Jedi robes? Why did he see vestiges of himself? Were Yoda and the Force trying to tell him that Starkiller, the clone, and Galen Marek were truly one and the same? Could it be that Galen Marek's past could merge with Starkiller's present and future to become unified as a total life in the Force?" These questions and many others plagued him. Juno also had argued that he could no longer refer to himself as Starkiller due to his tie with Vader and its semblance of the Dark Side. So it was that Starkiller came to accept his new identity as Galen Marek.

Over the past three standard years, Juno had supplied him with holo-records and files containing Marek's past which she had accessed through old connections that she maintained in the Empire. Through his ongoing secret contact with Juno, Starkiller had in fact not only taken on the persona of Galen Marek, but had actually become Galen Marek.

Chapter 1

Severed Bonds

Order 66...such a short order but one that came from the Emperor himself and changed the galaxy forever. Order 66 meant the annihilation of the Jedi. It also meant the separation of families such as the Chatoks. The Chatoks, Jedi Knight Silanaeus Chatok, a Zabrak, his wife Jedi Knight Bez Chatok, a human and their son, Silas, who they were just discovering was a Force sensitive when the order was given, were forced to flee Iridia and go their separate ways for the safety of them all. It was a very difficult parting, but a necessary one. Silanaeus found himself on Dantooine and learned how to blend in by hiding among the farmers.

Bez and Silas made their way to Iridonia to make a new life for themselves...without Silanaeus. Bez felt the peace of the Force wash over her in the choice of Iridonia, but that did not change her broken heart. She and Silas would be separated from her husband and the father of their son indefinitely. Although the transition was immensely complicated, it was possible. She had learned how to face difficult situations with rugged determination through her marriage to a Zabrak, a species known for their single-minded determination and strong self-assuredness.

Silas sat cross legged in the center of his room in deep meditation. It was a simple room. There were few decorations, but the walls were a light red that helped to calm him down. There was also a bed with a small wooden table. The room also had a small window that let sunlight stream in. It was just enough for him. As his room became brighter, he could hear a voice calling out his name. Silas opened his eyes and arose from his spot knowing it was his mother calling for him.

Bez Chatok was not a motherly figure. She was a very tall woman with broad shoulders and she rarely smiled. However, were someone to make her happy, they were to know. She had long hair that she always had pulled back from her face. Her face itself was generally fierce, as if she was always ready for a fight. That was a good thing, since she was Silas's Master.

Silas examined his room then walked to his dresser and pulled out a light beige tunic, black loose fitting pants, and a grey over coat and most importantly his paired light saber which he easily concealed under his coat.

Bez called again from the main part of the house, "Silas! I'm waiting!"

Her voice was fierce which meant that she was probably waiting to show him something new for training and Silas didn't want to keep her waiting. But, even more, he wanted to know what she was so excited about.

"I'm on my way," he called back. Within mere seconds, he was standing before her. "Sorry Master," he apologized.

As she saw Silas look at her, his eyes somewhat sad, she flashed back to the day that Silanaeus had left for Dantooine. Their foreheads pressed against each other, an odd hotness pinching the back of her eyes, and a lump closing her throat. What her son said broke her out of her memory, and she nodded.

"That's more like it," she replied curtly.

Through this whole fiasco, her expression had never changed. After being married to a Zabrak for ten-odd years, she'd learned to hide her emotions so well.

"Anything to please you, mom," he said giving her a half-hearted wink.

"Ahem," she coughed, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just call me something other than Master, Padawan."

She took a simple silver cylinder from her robes.

"We're going to work on defensive maneuvers today. You are severely lacking and if you ever are attacked, the opponent won't always wait for you to make the first move, I'm afraid."

Even as Bez spoke, the corner of her mouth tipped up into a smile- one of those that only Silas could make her give. Silas drew his light sabers.

"Yes, Master," he answered softly.

She nudged him, walking past him. "Cheer up, kid. I won't bite."

She turned and ignited her lightsaber, so that the bright blue beam lit up the room. Almost in sync with her, Silas ignited his lightsaber, also causing the room to be lit with a dark blue and yellow light. Bez closed her eyes and breathed and, with her eyes still closed, leapt at Silas, without any introduction. Reaching out with the Force, he made a very accurate prediction of where she was striking and easily parried her strike and knocked her back with a gentle Force push. She hardly lost her balance and came up behind him, reaching an arm around his neck, while knocking his saber out of his hands. He was incapacitated.

"Rule number one of defense, never lose track of your opponent and never, ever, get cocky." As she said these words, she remembered a similar moment with her husband and released her son, gesturing to his lightsaber.

"Again," she commanded.

Silas reached out with the Force and pulled his sabers back into his hands, took a quick deep breath to calm himself, then took a defensive stance. They continued battling until Silas was both mentally and physically exhausted. His mother disarmed him again and again, while bombarding him with lessons and rules. He couldn't win, it seemed, and his Zabrak blood started heating with frustration, as they set up once again for another round. Silas could sense his mother's skepticism through the Force and he now was determined to prove her wrong. She once again leapt at him, going for the same attack she had previously been using by going for his legs, but she too was exhausted and she struck too low. Without hesitation, he parried her strike and had her on the ground, disarmed with the point of the blade mere inches from her throat. Her eyes were impressed and her mouth was smiling cockily.

"Don't move your neck," she warned, "or you'll decapitate yourself."

Sure enough, Silas could feel the heat of her blade against the back of his neck.

"Rule 20: Never leave the disarmed weapon within distance for reaching out with the Force or it may be the last thing you ever do." She pressed the button on her hilt and the blade disappeared. "Come on, kid, lemme up," she said gruffly.

Silas deactivated his sabers and gave his Master some room to stand. She stood and gave her son a rare and very special look: she was proud. "Very good, Silas. You can have the rest of the day to yourself." She was absently running her finger over her saber hilt and something engraved on the silver shaft.

As she turned from her son, scattered and seemingly unrelated images of welding, crystals and trees flashed before her eyes and she looked down at the engraved heart with an 'S' on the inside, carved there so she'd never forget. As if she could. Silas could tell she was remembering his dad and remained silent. She turned to him again and was about to say something, but then she looked at her son and suddenly he was a foot taller and ten years older. It was her husband in the flesh.

"You are dismissed, Silas," she said softly, keeping the emotion out of her voice.

"Yes, Master," he said quietly and then walked outside without another word.

As soon as she knew he was out of earshot, Bez crouched and hugged her knees to her chest. She didn't cry. She never cried. She just closed her eyes and waited. She anticipated for that moment when she would open her eyes and Silaneas would be there to help her up, but an hour later, when she did, he wasn't there.

Silas leaned against the wall, crossed his arms and closed his eyes. There was no sound from the training room. In the past few months, Silas had noticed the prominent tiredness in his mother's eyes and her drooped shoulders. She was missing his father now more than ever, as he grew ever older and looked more like him. It hurt him to see her wince when she looked at him. As Silas reached out to her with the Force, Bez immediately put a Force barrier up to keep him out.

"I said, you were dismissed, Silas," she called to him. It was neither an order nor a request, but Silas knew by the hardness in her voice, he was not who she needed.

"Sorry," he called back gently.

He heard his mother sigh and mutter to herself. He knew she was talking to his father. She had since he was small and it never ceased to break his heart to hear her quiet, one-sided conversations with him. The Empire had torn apart his family and broken his mother's heart. The first word that came to his thoughts when he heard Empire was "blood-lust". Silas took a deep breath, reminding himself that hatred lead to the Dark Side. He took one last look at the shut door leading to the room where his mother still spoke into the air and walked back to his room. When he arrived, he took his seat in the center of the room and resumed his meditation.