Ezra Bridger scowled. Another mission to Citric V. Violently stormy during the day and bone-chillingly cold at night, the planet was like many forgotten outer rim worlds; it had been strip mined of many of its once abundant durasteel ore reserves by the Confederacy of Independent Systems during the Clone Wars, and again by The Empire until it was a husk of torn landscape and dead vegetation. The world's older residents spent their time recounting the years when Citric was a self-contained, independent and resource rich place. Where a landed Gentry had settled itself and a subjugated poor had been abused. The Trade Federation had made that Gentry even stronger, as many of their ranks were the owners of the various companies that competed in price wars only to get short changed for their goods. After the Clone Wars had chewed the landscape up, The Empire had done doubly so in half the time. Now, a decade since then, Citric V was home to the remnant factions of the Black Sun, Pike, and others. They were why Ezra was stuck here in the first place.

Citric's business with the Trade Federation had caused the port city of Go'ruk - "Give and get" in the language of Citric's natives. There a small but highly profitable export business had settled itself then died after the world's resources had been all but emptied. The Black Sun and Pike remnants had come in the decade since Citric had been all but forgotten by the galaxy; The Empire was utterly ruthless in its dismantling of the galaxy's criminal cartels, causing most to either die or flee deeper into the outer rim, rumors even suggesting that some had gone to the Unknown Regions. The Black Sun and Pike had stayed, and as such Maul, once he felt confident enough to allow Ezra to leave Dathomir with him, had forced the seventeen year-old to attend numerous negotiations to get on their good side in bars, restaurants, and hotels.

The zabrak's apprentice had grown weary of these events incredibly quickly, and Ezra had to keep reminding himself that allying with the organizations would help Maul - and by proxy Ezra - to seize power if the rebellion succeeded.

Ezra quashed any memories of the Alliance before they could rise. He felt approval from Maul's end of their bond.

"As I was saying, Maul. We simply can't trust you. You left us with nothing after you took over Mandalore," The Black Sun vigo spat the planet's name as if it were a curse, "You left us with nothing!" he slammed his fist down on the table that separated him from Maul. His eyes were narrowed; his green, flabby face was contorted in expression that would have been intimidating to a weaker being. Maul wasn't one of said beings.

He was leaned casually back in his seat, arms crossed. With the shirt he wore, his lean and tattooed forearms were on clear display to the Black Sun vigo. Ezra was leaned against the wall, to Maul's right - the vigo's left - with the hood of his jet black cloak raised. The garment had been gifted to Ezra at the beginning of the two's outings into the wider galaxy, and while it was simple, Ezra knew that the anonymity it gave his face unnerved the vigo's guards. The pair were clad in black jumpsuits, with identically coloured knee and shoulder pads. They both had a blaster rifle each, with the safeties off. They'd get cut down in moments if the Vigo and Maul came to blows, Ezra promised himself that.

"We simply cannot trust you," The vigo repeated, drawing out the words to the point of condescension. Maul's eyes narrowed.

"How can I show that you can?" He asked. An innocent enough question, Ezra thought. The vigo's eyes lit up for a few seconds before settling back into Muun levels of calculativeness.

"There's a shipment of our spice that went missing a standard week ago," The vigo said. "we believe we have located the band that stole it." Maul feigned misunderstanding; feeding the vigo's sense of control, when he was in fact with almost no bargaining chips suited Maul just fine if it gained him a potential alliance.

"You want it back," Maul stated slowly after a moment. The vigo nodded vigorously.

"Yes." Maul motioned to Ezra casually with his hand.

"My apprentice is available for that," The zabrak said, ignoring the alarm and anger that spiked at Ezra's end of their bond. The vigo raised a thin brow.

"You have another apprentice?" Maul nodded, a thin smile tugging at his features.

"I promise he's more stable then my last."

Last?

Ezra's eyes narrowed, posture stiffening. When he'd called Kanan master, it was mainly ceremonial. With Maul, it was literal; he could get rid of Ezra any time and way he wanted. The teen knew this full well, and the thought that Maul had had another apprentice before him raised something Ezra had rarely felt: jealousy.

And suspicion. Why hadn't Maul told him about his previous apprentice? Why did he say Ezra was 'More stable than the last.'? Head swimming with questions, Ezra was caught off guard when he heard:

"Then, Maul, let this be the beginning of a renewed friendship." Maul rose from his seat, turning to face his apprentice as the Black Sun vigo did ditto to his guards. His brow furrowed as when they made eye contact with his apprentice.

He spoke as soon as the vigo and his entourage had left.

"You seem troubled," He stated. Ezra wanted to deadpan that, but resisted the urge.

"Yes," He said with a sigh. "I-I just don't understand," Maul tilted his head minutely to the side.

"What, apprentice?" He asked lightly. It was his mentor's tone. Ezra recognized it.

"Why are you having me waste my talents helping some wannabe crime lord get his drugs back so he can get people high?" The teen had a bluntness in his tone that didn't belong there. None of what Maul had given Ezra - paler skin, golden rings around his irises - belonged there either, the zabrak supposed. Yet normally when Ezra was that blunt, he was upset. But by what? Maul normally read his apprentice's mind and intentions with ease, but now they were shielded; Ezra had, during his talk with the vigo, set up impressive psychic barriers. Maul knew of Ezra's entirely understandable obsession with the cerebral side of the force, specifically in defence, but had he been that obsessed?

Maul pushed those thoughts away for the time being, instead attempting to probe his apprentice's emotions. The force was silent. Ezra didn't give anything. Maul quashed the frown that threatened his neutral mentor's expression and spoke.

"Ezra," He began, resting his hand on the teen's shoulder. Ezra's posture stiffened even more at that.

"These Black Sun are cowards. The fact that they ask for assistance shows their weakness," Behind Ezra's hood, a midnight-blue brow arched.
"Then why are we helping them? Isn't that just reinforcing to them that cowardice works?" He cut in astutely. Maul sent a wave of approval Ezra's way.

"Yes," Maul felt a small surge of pride in Ezra, "But we need them." The teen scowled behind his hood.

"But you said they're weak," Ezra said, "They deserve to die!" Maul, again, sent a wave of approval Ezra's way. His apprentice had picked up cunning from his days as a street rat on Lothal, and it had been further enhanced by Maul's training of him. It could be frustrating at times, but it had served him well in the past.

"Yes, they are," Maul said, squeezing Ezra's shoulder. "But we sadly need their resources. When we have no further need of them, the Black Sun will cease to be." Ezra nodded, not fully satisfied but realising he wasn't going to get anywhere with his master at the time. He bowed.

"Of course, master; your wisdom graces me once again." Maul studied what Ezra's cloak allowed him to; the teen's posture would make an imperial drill instructor proud. Maul knew something wasn't right. After a tense moment, he took his hand off Ezra's shoulder and left the room, motioning for his apprentice as he did so.

The Savage fired another burst of laser from its twin cannons. The bolts slammed into another ship, one the Black Sun had identified as the Fleece. Ezra took another moment's deliberation before firing again, this time hitting the thrusters. The Fleece bucked, hit off kilter by the lasers.

Ezra felt some savage pleasure when putting the Fleece out of commision, yet it soon burnt out as the moment faded. He rose from the gunner's seat he'd occupied for the fifteen minutes, straightening his back as he did. Scowling at the mission ahead, the teen picked up the cloak he'd left draped over the chair with the force. The garment flew into his palm, and he slid it over his shoulders instinctively. Climbing up the ladder that lead to the Savage proper, Ezra mused that Maul might suspect something of him. He knew he'd been less than cooperative for the first few weeks of his training, attempting to escape multiple times over. Each "Plan" was overly complicated and a massive long shot, and was the reason for the angry, cauterized scar that cut from his eye to his jaw.

Ezra, of course, had no intention of leaving his master - for the moment, anyway. There was so much for him to learn, too much for him to leave this early. Maul had informed him of the Rule Of Two, the doctrine created by Darth Bane a millennia earlier. Ezra had his own reservations about it, yet learning at the feet of a Baneite sith was something the teen valued more than his training under Kanan; the former jedi had held him back, not attempting to completely remove Ezra's emotions - he wasn't that idiotic - but to simply tame them. He taught Ezra that those using the light were meant to be trusted, admired; to hold up as what he could become given time. Malachor V had changed that.

Ezra had lost Ahsoka there, and Kanan had lost his sight there. Why that stubby green thing named Yoda had sent them there was far beyond Ezra's comprehension.

"Apprentice, the time to board has come." The teen glanced up to see Maul standing in the cockpit's entrance, hands folded behind his back. Ezra gave a curt bow of respect to the zabrak and raised the hood of his cloak, concealing his entire face in shadow once more.

He gestured with his right hand underneath his cloak to open the door that lead to the Fleece. It slid past, revealing the connecting corridor the Savage possessed. It was light by bright, luminescent lights that made Ezra look more unnerving. He gestured with his right hand once more when he reached the other end of the hall, making the door in his way slide past him.

He took his right hand and wrapped it around the hilt of his lightsaber. He would've used a two-handed grip two years ago, but that time had passed. With his index finger poised hovering above the ignition switch, Ezra took a breath ignited the weapon.

A lance of crimson sprouted from the weapon's hilt, bathing dark hallway Ezra had entered with unsettling light. The red crystal had been acquired by the teen early on in his career as Maul's apprentice, when he'd been tracked by a freshly anointed inquisitor; that had been on his third ever outing since his arrival on Dathomir, and his killing of the inquisitor had prompted Maul to introduce him to the seventh form of lightsaber combat… and replace his previously golden crystal with the inquisitor's artificial red one.

Now it felt just as reassuring as his golden lightsaber had felt, but he was far more deadly now than he was then. Ezra sensed two pirates in the hall - one human, one weequay - but both male. He sensed and fed off their fear, letting his power build. The spark that was his inner darkness, which he always kept simmering, grew into an inferno. The air around Ezra seemed to crackle unnaturally, as his inner darkness yearned to be released. The pirates exchanged a glance, and Ezra sensed the pair's trepidation as they took aim at him. He smirked.

Extending his left hand, Ezra yanked the blaster pistols the pirates had out of their hands, letting them fly into the wall behind him. The pair of blasters fell to th floor with a clatter, and the pirates' collective fear skyrocketed. One of the pirates, the weequay, had realized he was overmatched, and began to turn to run, but Ezra, after a moment of concentration, stopped him mid stride, pinching his index finger and thumb together. He imagined strangling the weequay's life out of them. The weequay, in response to that thought, began to emit horrid gurgling sounds, and to claw at his throat. His eyes bulged, wide with unrestricted terror. His human partner was stunned, frozen until the weequay fell to the ground, his last scream coming out as a pitiful rasp.

The human began to turn, too, but Ezra froze him in place with the force, and approached him slowly, savoring his fear one last time before driving his lightsaber through his heart. He was halfway down the hall when they rasped out their final words.

"You are a disgrace to your order, jedi."

Ezra spun, eyes narrowing. He was preparing to cut the human's throat open when they died. After a moment Ezra shook his head, turning back and heading down the hall. His lightsaber blade ran parallel to the hall's floor, scattering red light around his ankles.

It was time to get to work.

...

This is how I'm starting this story, huh?

Oh well, if you don't like stories like this and want a happier one, feel free to find another story. But I'd like for you to stay - if you dare. *begins laughing maniacally* Because this story should be fun; I haven't really seen to many stories concerning what a turned Ezra might be like.