Yo guys! It's been a while since I've updated/created a fanfiction! I'm incredibly sorry for my absence! A lot of stuff happened, and I moved, and Borderlands 2 came out, and the urge to write fanfiction just left me! So, I'm back in buisness, and you can count on me being quite a bit more active now that I'm back. Sadly, I'm going to discontinue the story: Rise of the Sith. Do not fear, I may continue the story at another time. I sincerely appologize to all fans of the story, nevertheless. Hopefully you will like the following story even better, and it will override you're probably unexistant sadness that Rise of the Sith is gone! I will also be re-writing the story: 'What If?'. As I went into abnormalities that I have no way to explain, because sadly I'm new to writing, as I'm only 13. But if you are still reading this, please note to put ideas, and things that you would like to see in this story along with your review! I have a point A, B, and C, but everything in between is completely wingable, and I may implament some of your ideas into the story, if they fit! So please do so for the benefit of the story! Without any further ado, begin reading!
Prelude:
It is a dark time for the Rebellion. Although the Death Star has beeen destroyed, Imperial troops have driventhe Rebel forces from theirhidden base, andpursued them across the galaxy. Evading the dreaded imperial Starfleet, a group of freedom fighters led by Luke Skywalker has established a new secret base on the remote ice-world of Hoth. Guided by the sprit of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Skywalker struggles to master the skills of a Jedi and prepare for the final contfrontation with the Emperor's new Sith Assassin, Starkiller.
The sounds of explosions and loud blasts surrounding him, the mechanical Dark Lord, clad in golden armor, Starkiller, trudges through the thick snow, his only thoughts being of his mission.
Hunt down, and kill the son of Vader.
Vader. Memories of his predecessor rush through him. The cyborg Sith warrior that he once trusted, even loved, burning a hole through his chest, and tossing him off a cliff like garbage. He remembered how good it felt to slice him to pieces, to tear him apart.
His hatred towards Vader only fueled his determination to kill the one known as Skywalker. But was it truly Vader that he hated the most? Or was it him? The one that-
His thoughts were interrputed by his holocomunicator switching on.
"Ah, yes-Ehem, hello! Uhm, my lord. This is captain Kira. I've been, um, assigned as your guide with the attack, sir. Be sure that I am, uh, aware... Of your... Strict... Policy with job performance. I-I won't let you down my lord!"
Barely even listening, the cyborg continued his thoughts of hatred. All coming from his agony known as his life. His memories drifted to the thoughts of Vader murdering his father, and kidnapping him as he ran through into the Dark Chasm. He continued through easily slicing through the wildlife, his thoughts continuing. Before he knew it, his thoughts about Vader again led to the one he hated the most. The one that made him like this.
The ground rumbled beneath him, and began to fall apart. He jumped from platform to platform, quite amused at watching the Yeti's fall to their deaths. But more angry at the cause of this.
"Uhm, my lord, scans are indicating that the ice caverns from which you travel may be a bit unstable. It seems the vibrations from our walkers... May... Partly to blame. It's possible that I overlooked this while planning your infiltration route... Please forgive-"
But it was too late for the admiral. An invisible hand wrapped around his neck, immediately crushing it with extreme force. Then the mechanical assassin spoke only seven words:
"You failed me for the last time."
Starkiller continued on, still easily dispatching all that got in his way. Mostly Yeti's but soon Rebel Troops, and automated turrets began to attack him. This did not indicate danger to him. All that crossed his mind was one fact. I'm getting closer. Civilization finally began to appear. Stone walls became steel. the ground soon had a floor. More and more Rebels attacked, immediately dispatched. I'm getting closer. It was still his only thought.
The machine-man combination soon reached an entire solid room. In the center, was a disabled elevator in the middle of the room, and something like 20 rebel troops, poised to fire. Starkiller merely lifted his hand up, and made a simple, menacing gesture with his claw-like fingers, and with a spark, a stream of bright-blue lightning split into several bolts, each arc-ing at the soldiers, as if they were lightning rods. As soon as the blue energy made contact with the troopers, they immediately fell to the floor. And it was all over in a second.
Starkiller suddenly jumped to the top level in the blink of an eye, and with another gesture, blasted a dura-steel door several yards away, hitting the rebels behind so hard that they turned into mush as soon as it made contact. Like he didn't even notice, Starkiller continued down the long pathway, slaying soldiers left to right, and his thoughts again strayed. He knew he was slaying his own men. Destroying the alliance that he created to kill Vader. To stop him... No, that was wrong.
He stepped into another room, and glanced up at a boy. Probably the youngest soldier he'd seen yet, but he didn't proceed. He stopped. He knew he had reached his destination.
"We meet at last, son, of Vader."
"No, you're wrong, buddy. I'm Luke Skywalker. My father was a Jedi. Vader murdered him."
"Or at least, that's what you were told."
The young boy showed a moment of confusion-No, it was doubt. But it instantly washed itself from his face, replaced by pure fury. He lunged at Starkiller, an emerald blade over his head, and Starkiller charged as well, his firey blade ignited as well. Starkiller knew from the first clash many things about this boy. As Luke let loose a flurry of slow, dull attacks, Starkiller's blade danced around him, like a whirlwind. He could have killed him, if he wanted to. He could have. But he didn't. He bunted off every attack Luke pressed on him-But never went on the offensive. His thoughts went astray.
To kill Vader, to stop him... That was wrong. It was never Vader. It was him. The Emperor. The mastermind behind it all. It was him that he hated, the most. It was always him.
Luke's flurry of slashes came to an end, he was evidently exhausted. In this boy, Starkiller knew one very important thing. This kid was like his reincarnation. Decieved by his masters, but with the potential to be the strongest of all. The only difference was that his Master was a Sith, and Luke's was a Jedi. But just as Starkiller once became a Jedi, Skywalker, would become a Sith. Together, they could kill him. They could kill the Emperor. Perhaps at one time he could have done it alone. But that time has passed. His power never recovered from the incident.
When he tried to kill the Emperor.
He quickly shoved the memory from his mind. He needed to focus on the present. If Skywalker was to be a Sith, he would have to be broken.
The Dark Lord made one more gesture. This time, it sent the young Skywalker sprawling onto the ground.