Harry of the Sith
Chapter One: The Call of the Wild
Darth Maul stood, laughing over the death of Qui Gonn Jinn. "Pathetic Jeddi, I showed you the meaning of true power, not the laughable jedi tricks but the true power of the SITH!" He roared his alleigeance to one and all.
Obi Wan Kenobi, hands shaking around his light saber, ran forward to meet his new foe. What happened was an intense light saber duel, where both relied on instincts and the force to guide them.
It ended.
Darth Maul was grieveously injured, and bleeding hard. Obi Wan Kenobi was dead, a red duel light saber thrust into his gut.
Darth Maul lifted out the light saber of Qui Gon Jinn that Obi Wan had managed to get during the duel and pulled it out of his shoulder with a hiss of pain. Anger and hatred fuelled his mind.
He turned and looked across the sandy plains, at the boy, the boy with immense power.
Darth Maul was fatally wounded and knew he wouldn't live out the night.
"Come here," he said to the boy, adding what meager strength he had to use the force to get the boy to obey his commands.
The boy came.
"What's your name?"
"Anakin Skywalker, sir," the boy answered, his eyes stormy with fear.
"Good. Give me your hands."
Anakin placed his hands palm outward.
Darth Maul put his own hands on Anakin's palms and wondered what he was doing. He was in a confused delirious state but he was following the will of the force. The force told him to do this, gave him hidden knowledge long lost for a technique that he had never heard of.
It was horrible.
Even Darth Maul cringed at it's evilness.
But the dark side was insistent. 'You have to do this if you want to survive' it said.
Darth Maul obeyed and closed eyes, feeling the dark side of the force glow within him with terribly potent energy.
Then he sucked.
Anakin screamed in pain, in blinding pain, as he felt all his life force sucked out of him.
His very soul energy was being taken, stolen by the Sith lord.
Darth Maul felt a humungoes surge of power travel up his spine. He had never felt better! His wounds healed instantly. He felt like a god.
He watched as Anakin shriveled up, his skin turning wrinkly and his eyes took on a flat dull yellow color that spoke of ill health. Still Darth Maul pushed.
The dark side of the force wanted this, was insistent on this.
Darth Maul shuddered but did not hesitate.
That day… he had done the impossible. He had sucked the very force out of the boy, leaving a crumpled disfigured heap lying on the ground. He had never known such a thing was possible.
It had been lost knowledge, lost by the greatest of Sith lords, hidden through the millennia of shadows and secrets.
And Darth Maul found it.
Or rather, the force gave it to him as a gift.
But Maul knew that the dark side never gave gifts.
He had a new task, a task that the very essence of the dark forced him to do.
He took the ship nearby, Qui Gon's ship, and with ease he killed the pilot with his light saber.
He had never felt better. He was alive, in a new way, in a way that made him thrum with powerful energy, that made his whole being sing with the dark side of the force. He whistled, a slow melancholy tune that was haunting and mind boggling. It had a harmonical tune, for sure, but it was something different.
It was an ode to the boy who saved his life unwillingly. Tears rolled down Darth Maul's still stoic face as he hummed and whistled the tune that seemed to strike at the very heart of all that Darth Maul held precious.
Ties between his master, Palpatine, or rather, Darth Sideous, broke instantly.
Ties to the so called Sith order fell apart like a castle of cards.
Darth Maul was no more a sith.
He was merely a servant, a servant to the greatest power in creation: the very essence of darkness.
This was the sith enlightenment, which was a myth, a legend, where a Sith Dark Lord would disappear into the Force, totally in.
It was risky.
To die before you die.
Darth Maul was dead.
He needed a new name now and the only name that seemed fitting was one:
"I am your servant," he said to the darkness that swirled around him, that threatened to engulf him alive.
"I am your disciple. I am yours, darkness!"
A voice whispered in his ear. A seductive voice, a voice of a demon, a voice of a god.
"Your name shall be Darth Challix!"
The Sith sighed and now at that moment he was no more a Sith, no more part of any organization, of any label.
Now he was only darkness, at one with it, at one with the essence of the force.
He had reached his enlightenment and he had never expected it to feel so very good… so euphoric and happy.
He could understand compassion now, he could understand the jedi, and he could understand the hate of the Sith, but he was beyond that. He was at one with the force, and with a lightning bolt realization he realized that there was no light and Dark.
A haunting voice whispered from the depths of darkness called to him.
"There is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it."
Red eyes glowed in his dreams.
He started the whistling tune again, a mourning funeral for the Chosen One who would bring balance.
He had brought balance… in one person. And that was enough. That was all the force wanted or needed from Anakin Skywalker.
He sang the ode with tears in his eyes.
An ode to what might have been the greatest Jedi or the greatest Sith alive.
But Darth Maul stole Anakin's power, his soul, and for that he was tainted with the dark completely.
He was the servent of the dark, in such a way that no Sith would ever try.
He had become one with the darkness. He was a true dark lord and he knew exactly what he had to do, what the force commanded him to do.
He could not disobey. After the force had saved his life, saved him and made him stronger, made him new and better and gave him such a fountain of power, he could not disobey.
------
He reached Crousacnt a few days later and acted quickly, sneaking into Chancellor Palpatine's office with utmost skill.
Of course Darth Sideous already sensed his presence and turned around in his immense luxurious office, sneering.
"Why have you came, Darth Maul?"
"To kill you," was his only reply and then Darth Maul let go, and let darkness fill him. He fell into a deep sleep and when he awoke he realized he was covered in blood. But it was not his blood.
Darth Sideous was dead. And it wasn't Darth Maul who had done it.
It was the hidden one, the one cloaked in the shadows of darkness, the true Sith Lord who would not reveal his identity.
Darth Maul was no more.
Darth Challix had done this deed.
Darth Challix, the apprentice.
"What is your name, my master?" asked Darth Challix, who had once been Lord Maul. But that seemed like ages ago, that seemed like a dream.
He was Darth Challix now. He liked that name though he did not know what it meant. Maul meant to be a fighter.
What did Challix mean?
The voice answered in a whisper, "It means to serve. Are you ready to serve me, the only true lord of darkness?"
Challix answered, "Yes."
"You can call me Lord Voldemort," said a voice in his mind, a voice filled with potent energy, and wisdom.
"Tell me about you."
"I live on a far away planet in the outer rims. It is quite primitive to your technology. You must seek me out. The planet is blue… we call it Earth. Come to me, my apprentice, and I shall show you the true meaning of darkness."
Darth Challix bowed his head, and answered the call.
Darth Challix knew he had to get out of here fast before the security guards caught wind of his action. He hadn't really defeated Darth Sideous. His master... Lord Voldemort... he had acted through him to defeat the weakling.
Darth Challix laughed, he laughed out loud and heartily. He had finally found someone who knew of his potential, who knew of his power and who was willing to teach him in the ways of true darkness. His body tingled with anticipation as he wondered what Lord Voldemort would look like.
The man was obviously one of great power to be able to telepathically communicate to Darth Maul like that. No, not Maul, he reminded himself bitterly. I have a new name now, a better name, because I have been reborn in the Force, in the Force that none had ever ventured into. Sure, the Sith knew of the dark side, but they were simply toddlers in the swimming pool, not an athlete. He remembered in his home planet how he loved to swim and swim for hours in the lake besdies his cottage. He sighed at the nostalgia but immediately brightened up. What would Earth look like? Lord Voldemort was probably the master of Earth, probably the ruler of it.
Darth Challix was sure that Lord Voldemort was a man of supreme power, perhaps the most powerful being in the universe. His heart raced as he anticipated their first meeting. He knew immediately he had found the treasure of his life, and he was content in forever serving his master in whatever capacity he could.
He felt tendrils of dark force roam around him and the captivating and hypnotic voice of his Lord and Master called to him from the shadows, "Run! Run my friend, to my home planet. You must flee! The others are after you, after your blood."
Then everything became silent. He used the Force to try to contact his master but he could not get a hold of him. He did not have such power as to communicate vast distances, across planets, across stars.
Lord Voldemort had hidden himself in the outer rim, perhaps he was as old as Yoda, perhaps he was as young as himself. Darth Challix did not know anything about Voldemort, and the mystery that surrounded his new Lord, but he was eager to find out. He stood to his feet shakily, awakening fully from his slumber.
With a shocking realization he found out that he wasn't the one to kill Darth Sideous. It was Voldemort, channelling his energy through Darth Challix. Darth Challix had no memory of beating the most fearsome Sith he had ever encountered, until now. Lord Voldemort was a god compared to Darth Sideous.
Darth Challix laughed again, this time in a state of sublime joy and happiness. He had finally found his true master and in that moment he felt happy, fulfilled, contented. He did not feel the utter burning rage in his heart. It had been dampened by the presence of Lord Voldemort's power.
No good or evil.
Only Power.
And those too weak to seek it.
Darth Challix was not weak. He would find Voldemort. He would seek the power and none would stand in his way on his quest to Earth.
Not even the Jedi that had flung themselves into the room.
Darth Challix stood up to his feet again, this time looking stronger and more confident. This was a test. Voldemort would not help him again.
"Stop right there, Sith demon!" shouted Mace Windu. "You are under arrest."
Darth Challix smirked, and let loose his duel light saber. The red light glowed in the dark room, the room that was filled to the brim with the evil energy of Lord Voldemort.
"Do you think you can challenge me?" scoffed Darth Challix. "I am the apprentice of the greatest Sith master who has ever been, who ever will be."
"You are under arrest," Mace said stoically. "Halt, and relieve yourself of your weapons immediately or I will have to use force."
Darth Challix chuckled. He charged.
Mace took out his light saber and flung the blade toward the red saber of his enemy. Darth Challix felt faster, stronger than he had ever been when he had sucked the soul energy of Anakin Skywalker, the supposed chosen one. He easily matched Mace's saber abilities with fluid form, a form he had never known, as if Voldemort's hand was upon his hand, guiding his every action. He felt at peace for the first time, and anger and hatred dissolved into a cold apathy. Only his lord mattered now.
He felt himself slipping into a trance like state as he battled the skilled jedi. As they duelled, with sabers meeting sabers, Darth Challix used his force abilities to push Mace into the wall. He marvelled at his new strength but then felt a sudden stab in his right shoulder.
He looked around, whirling to see another sight greet his eyes.
"Dark, you have become, fearsome you have transformed into," Yoda said. "But you are no match for the holy abilities of the Jedi."
Darth Challix sneered, and used his Force ability to push Yoda into the wall as well. He marvelled at his new found skill with the force. This was power, this was true power.
Before the two jedi were able to recouver Darth Challix was long gone. Even though he had power beyond his belief, he could feel it slowly ebbing away. The borrowed power of Anakin's innate potential was gradually being reduced. With a frightening realization he began to see that the power would not last long.
It was fading away.
Darth Challix knew that with all his formidable skill he would not be able to defeat the two master jedi crumpled on the floor. They were already recouvering.
He had to run.
He ran hard through the halls of the building, and anyone who stood in his way he used the force to bludgeon them to the wall, unworried about what damage he caused.
He was beyond compassion.
He was also beyond hate.
A cold apathy settled over him, a coolness the likes of which he had never known before.
"I am watching you," said Voldemort from the corners of his mind. "Show me your strength apprentice."
Darth Challix grinned and hurried through the hallways. He met two security guards with blasters pointing straight at him. They shot at rapid pace but the apprentice easily blocked the blaster shots with his saber and gutted them both with lightning speed. Before he knew it he was at the hanger deck overlooking a variety of ships at his disposal. Engineers and mechanics floundered around but stopped in surprise when they looked at the fiersome appearance of the Sith Lord.
Darth Challix grinned and caught the sleeve of a running mechanic. "Show me the way to the best ship you have. Immediately! I need only a small ship to get me many light years away from here."
The mechanic nodded, his moustache quivvering in fear. His brown eyes were filled with terror. He led Darth Challix to a gleaming ship that was small enough to accomodate no more than five passengers at the most.
Luckily Darth Challix knew how to pilot the ship. He ran into the cockpit and instantly slaughtered the two pilots and threw their bodies down on the floor. He climbed in the control booth and locked down the ship's doors. Nobody would be able to come in here, not without using excessive force.
Suddenly a platoon of security guards entered the hanger bay, blasters at their ready. They saw Darth Challix and started firing at the ship's hull.
Darth Challix used the force to cast a protective shield around the ship and hurriedly flipped the controls, fired the buttons that would start the hyperdrive. The sky was overhead, eager to be explored.
Freedom, thought Darth Challix as he let the ship push off into space.
For ten minutes nobody was at his back, no ships chasing him, nothing.
He was out of Cruscent's orbit before he realized that yes, ships were chasing him. But they were cloaked in invisibility shields. And what was worse, they were jedi ships. Darth Challix could sense the jedi with the Force which gave him an immense clarity.
He had to get out of here.
He had to follow the will of the force, which told him he must go to Lord Voldemort.
That was where he would find true power.
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Harry sat on his bed, tears in his eyes. His godfather had just died and he didn't want to cry but tears fell anyways. Luckily nobody was there in his dorm to bother him. He gripped his wand tightly and knowing he could not spend the time moping, knowing he could not feel sorry for himself just because of the prophecy, he decided to do something.
He had to train, hard. He had to defeat Voldemort using any means necessary and that meant duelling. He had to be the best dueller Hogwarts had ever seen and for that he needed focus and study and hard work.
He got out of his bed and took a quick shower to clean himself up, to let the tears flow unbidden.
He promised himself it was the last time he would cry for his godfather. From now on there would be no tears. Just an icy feeling of determination and anger that infused his very soul.
He had to kill Lord Voldemort.
He had to become a murderer, a living human weapon whose sole objective was to murder, to kill or be killed.
The prophecy's words repeated itself in his mind. With a sigh, he changed into his Hogwarts uniform. He still had classes but he would not show up to them anymore.
No more classes or exams. Let it all burn to hell for what he cared.
Luckily he knew just the place to go to train, to train without stopping, without crying. He had to train himself mercilessly, use all his focus and energy to reach the point where he would match Voldemort in a duel and then kill him.
He had a lot of work to do in his life. He had only two more years in Hogwarts and after that, he had to find some other ways to get powerful.
A thought rung in his mind, unbidden. It came from his first year when he had first met Lord Voldemort.
There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it.
Harry gulped a bitter taste in his mouth and he picked up his invisibility cloak from his trunk and wandered down the halls of the empty corridors.
It was dead night, and all was silent and stilled. He reached the room of requirement and opened the door, willing a duelling arena to show up and a library of books to help him become the best dueller the world had ever seen.
Sure he might need a tutor, a teacher to help him. But for now, he had to do this himself. He had to study all the ways of magic himself, to become powerful enough to stop Voldemort once and for all.
He thought of Ron and Hermione and Ginny.
He would fight, he would give himself to the war wholeheartedly with no holding back.
With a regretful sigh he realized he had no time for friendship anymore, no time for quidditch, no time for playing gobstones with Fred and George or chess with Ron.
He had to focus. He had to become the best.
So he trained.
All night. He read through the books, looking at each spell in detail and he practiced and practiced for hours until he was covered in sweat.
Then he willed an armchair to appear, and exhausted he sank down within it's cushions and went to sleep.
He dreamt:
There was a ship... a gleaming silver ship and it was being chased by other ships.
He looked inside the gleaming silver ship and saw a cruel face belonging to an unnatural looking person... an alien!
Then he woke up, his scar bleeding. He had a huge headache and he clenched his eyes shut willing it to go away. But the torture lasted even though the bleeding stopped. He sank back into sleep, too exhausted to care, too exhaused to inform Dumbledore about his vision which was undoubtedly from Voldemort's mind judging by the hammer like pain in his scar.
The next day he did not attend classes but continued to train, continued to master new spells in the room of requirement.
The time for fun was over.
His childhood was gone. He was now a man, borne through the fire of despair and torture, born through the chilling truth of the prophecy.
And as a man, he had no time for school children.
He was on a serious mission to practice his magic, to hone it into a weapon with only one purpose: to kill Lord Voldemort.
Next chapter: A meeting with the Order to discuss how to deal with the newly reincarnated Dark Lord... Darth Challix's journey as he is chased by a fiersome group of jedi intent on revenge for his murders of their beloved chancellor, and their Jedi Master Qui Gon Jinn, as well as his padawan Obi Wan, and the Chosen One: Anakin Skywalker.