— - - —
Chapter 11
— - - —
Darth Vader's 501'st Armada was something of a marvel to behold. A famous fleet often called the Royal Armada or the Death Squadron due to unrelenting brutality and effectiveness. A collective of Star Destroyers unlike any other fleet before it. Each member of his command crews for each ship was handpicked by him personally, all loyal until the very end. Never questioning orders, never even entertaining the idea of betrayal, Vader's Death Squadron was the model for the whole Empire. It always had been.
Admiral Firmus Piett, the honored commander of this marvelous fleet under Vader directly couldn't have been more proud of the men and woman in his command. In perfect formation and battle ready, Piett was more than confident in his and those other officer's abilities to crush the traitors bound to attack. They had no idea what Lord Vader had in store for them.
"We have them on our scanners, Admiral. ETA 4 minutes and counting." One man said.
"Planetary Ion cannon primed and ready."
Piett faced the rest of the bridge. "Very well. Inform the Fortress to start the shield generator."
"Yes, sir."
Moments later, a thick, cloudy bubble formed a protective shield around the entire fleet. Tech developed to protect the former Emperor's Death Star now re-purposed.
The space between the Destroyers and cruisers suddenly flooded with hordes of fighters swarming around.
Piett watched the fleet from the bridge of the Executor. Hands clasped behind his back, they incrementally tightened ever so slightly. He could practically feel the tension of the fleet about to go into battle with an enemy they knew very little about.
The bridge went silent as the vacuum in space.
And then, like a crescendo following a soft melody, chaos suddenly popped the bubble of silence.
Star Destroyers appeared in an instant and opened fire without hesitation. Sleek, TIE-like fighters seared out of the enemy hangar bays.
Red bolts from turbo lasers slammed into the shield sending ripples as it absorbed their energy.
And yet, the bridge stayed silent.
Their fighters flew effortlessly through the shield and space was suddenly flashing with green and red. Bright pops of fighters being taken down on both sides flashed like tiny fireworks from the distance.
Piett analyzed the enemy. Their Star Destroyers were definitely modeled after their Imperial-class counterparts and fighters modeled after the TIE line. They seemed a bit quicker and more nimble, weaving through Piett's fighters to make way to the shield and beginning bombing runs, though few made it very far before Corvettes picked them off the moment they cleared the shield.
The enemy's attack formation was impressive, Piett had to give credit where credit was due.
And then, the moment he'd been waiting for happened.
The centerpiece to Gallius Rax's fleet emerged, towering over it's accompaniment, its vertical wing-like structures already opened and glowing bright red.
Admiral Piett experienced a brief moment of fear at the thought of the shield being unable to withstand the inevitable blast from the Ark's weapon.
The dual, thin beams converged against the shield now glowing and pulsing bright green, straining to absorb it as it sent flames and sparks against the surface. Two massive missile like blasts of pure plasma shot out and Piett held his breath with the rest of the crew.
In a blinding flash of light, the blasts collided with the shield. The men on the bridge covered their eyes, some instinctively ducking just in case. The resulting explosion against the shield was a detonation of fire and energy spewing back wide and tall as any Star Destroyer would be.
The light died down and the bridge was then alive with bustling noises.
"Shield at 62%!"
"Ion cannon's having difficulty locking on!"
"We're losing fighters quick!"
Piett scowled. "Break the fighters apart. Circle them around toward the Ark and prepare to lock on and destroy any enemy fighter that breaches the shield."
A majority of fighters from both sides disengaged each other and hastily broke for the capital ships.
TIE bombers bombarded the enemy Destroyers. Enemy bombers weaved between turbolaser fire once inside the protective shield, though dropping like flies to the Corvettes.
A larger explosion caught the Admiral's attention, quickly followed by another. And then another.
"Sir, three Corvettes down and two disabled!"
"Deploy the Interceptors at once!" Piett barked.
Said Interceptors raced out of the Destroyers.
The tiny explosions of dogfights were now much close and much brighter. They crashed against the hulls of the Star Destroyers while they fired large, green shots in every direction. Comms were alive with frantic chatter and sudden static.
Piett then noticed the Ark's weapon prime.
"Do we have a lock on that ship!?" Piett shouted.
"Not yet!"
The Admiral growled.
Beams battered the shield and then absorbed one more devastating shot from Rax's ship.
"21%!"
"We can't take another one!" Piett growled. "Order all bombers to converge on that Star Destroyer!" He pointed to the one seemingly blocking the planetary Ion cannon from having a clear shot.
"Troop transports have breached the atmosphere!"
Piett only hoped the ground forces were enough to keep that Ion cannon up and running. His priority was surviving.
— - - —
Anti aircraft weapons mounted on the obsidian structure of Vader's Fortress swiveled, each one aiming at the blackened clouds. Slightly parting, fighters roared out of the clouds, trailing the ash with them.
Turrets opened fire.
Missiles rocketed from the Fortress, green bolts of laser fire streaked across the sky and painted it red and yellow as the lava beneath, with direct hits.
The sky was alive in chaos.
Loud engines vibrated the floor as ships strafed, dropping bombs and hails of red, leaving long streaks of explosions across both the structure and the black banks near the rivers of lava.
White clad stormtroopers flew like rag dolls. Enemy ships burst across the sky in a downpour of shrapnel. Some splashed into the molten liquid, spraying searing rain down on to the ground.
The Shadow Council's transports trailed safely behind the fighters, landing harmlessly a safe distance away. They unloaded their striped, armored marines who ducked from the firefight above and sprinted toward the Fortress.
Stormtroopers awaited them and a chaotic firefight mirrored the one in the skies.
Soldiers on both sides of the long, outstretched platform before the Fortress fell like flies. Sparks flew from their armor as well aimed shots found their mark.
Starkiller watched the chaos from a platform above the battle. Behind him, a group of four stood waiting for orders. Contrast to the white-clad soldiers below, this group of four were covered in lightweight armor, shimmering black like other squads of Imperial Special Forces. Thin, dark purple stripes were drawn down their right arms, color matching the insignia on the left, small pauldron. A simple triangle with the bottom line missing. Two, vertical, parallel, stylized lines slashed across the middle.
Ethereal Squad. The most elite enforcers for the High Command Security Force.
One stepped forward beside Starkiller and knelt on one knee. A long rifle was strapped to her back. She pulled out a pair of binoculars, brought them to her helmet and stared through them.
Starkiller glanced down at her.
"No sign of these super soldiers yet." Her voice was electronically muffled through the helmet's modulator.
"Then you're not looking hard enough." Another muffled, gruff voice said. Though hard and textured, the voice had the poise of a core world accent. He stepped forward, holstering his big... big gun on his back, leaned down and snatched the binoculars.
The woman stood up.
"You've lost your touch, Tash." The man berated. Handing her the binoculars, he addressed Starkiller. "Three shuttles just touched down in sector 3."
The female agent, Tash confirmed it. "Those weren't there before, Jeran." She defended. "You got lucky."
"I'm sure they weren't."
"Shut it, Jax." Tash snapped at the one behind her. The youngest of the group and the younger brother of Jeran.
Though the kid's face was covered, his pout was shown in the way his shoulders slightly slumped and assault rifle dipping in his hands slightly.
"Cut the chatter, all of you." The last of the Squad, and the obvious Commander pushed passed his three counterparts. Commander Kiygan of Ethereal Squad rested the barrel of his E-21A assault rifle on his shoulder. "Orders?" He asked Starkiller.
The Sith glanced over his shoulder to see Luke walk onto the platform in full gear. Light armor plates over his chest and back with lightweight pauldron, all a matte black over his dark clothing. His cap fluttered with the light wind.
Ethereal Squad stiffened instantly. "Your Highness." Commander Kiygan spoke for the group.
Luke dipped his head slightly to the man.
"They're here." Starkiller informed Luke.
The Prince stood next to the Sith Lord. "I know. I felt them the moment they arrived." A sneer crossed his face. "I'm not here for them."
"He'll show up." Starkiller assured. "I'll make sure of it. You just be ready to clean up." He turned toward the Commander. "Lead them to the Generator." The Sith Lord ordered. "We'll take care of the rest."
Kiygan nodded once. "You heard him." He turned back to the Squad. "Tash, up top." He pointed up and Tash stood, aiming her wrist up toward a ledge higher up before a grapple shot out and took her up. "Jeren, take out the staircases and ramps." The gruff man saluted, hooking a grapple of his own and scaling down the side of the Fortress.
"You two with me." Luke finished.
"Yes, My Lord."
The smell of burnt ozone and blaster-charred armor assaulted Luke and Starkiller's noses. The light pings of firefights echoed alongside detonations from above and below.
Darth Vader's apprentice and son couldn't help but feel excited. After all, they were both terrifying forces to be reckoned with on separate battlefronts. But together...
Starkiller stepped off of the platform and landed just behind ally lines. His crimson blade shot out, glowing across the smooth floor.
Luke landed right next to him, Commander Kiygan and Jax coming to a hover before their jet packs cut off.
Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber snapped to life.
Fear echoed through the crowd of enemies and confidence surged through the Stormtroopers.
The Shadow Council's marines rose their rifles, aiming unsteadily.
Imperial soldiers resumed their firing on the stunned enemies.
Gripping their sabers, Starkiller and Luke reacted instantaneously to the shots targeted at them.
Dashing and blocking, Starkiller steadily made way to the marines while shots ricocheted, many finding marks and downing enemies with their own blaster fire while Luke hung back to defend his troops with the two members of Ethereal Squad aiming and firing bursts of red with surgical precision.
Ahead, a detonator soared toward Starkiller. With a flick of his wrist, the device flew back at them, exploding and flinging deadly shrapnel in every direction. Hitting the base of a light pole, the light toppled over, crashing against the floor while sparks shot out.
Only the dull glow of Mustafar's lava lit the platform.
Starkiller dashed, using the low light to his advantage and shoved his hand outward.
Dozens were sent careening backward several feet at breakneck speeds, colliding with their comrades and disorienting the whole group.
But more bolts from behind those he'd taken down rained on him mercilessly. He was hardly effected, nor was he feeling fear of any sort. It was anger he felt. Anger that they even thought they had the right to exist in Lord Vader's Empire. Anger that they even had the audacity to put up a fight. Rage at the betrayal.
Starkiller easily deflected the hail of fire that fell upon him with his lightsaber waving and twirling brightly around, smoke and sparks bouncing off of the crimson sword. Though not in danger, he was slowed by being put on the defensive.
Seeing this, Luke took a moment to point toward Starkiller and the elite soldiers burst into the air toward the Sith.
Skywalker dashed right toward the leading squad.
The squad's leader rotated his weapon. His barrel blared to life and bright, red lasers flew at him.
With practiced ease, Luke's blade came up and reflected the fire, angling his saber just right so he'd catch a few at the perfect angle and send their shots searing right through their chests.
His senses captured every detail of the large platforme and mapped out an efficient strategy to both save his soldiers and neutralize this threat. Further down, more squads of soldiers ran toward him and Starkiller.
Luke raced forward. Weaving through the blasterfire in a low sprint, his lightsaber carved a molten streak through the ground and arced upward the instant he was in range of the soldiers, straight through the first's legs and sweeping up and over to sever the second's hands. He spun around him and sliced across the next's chest and swiftly ducked underneath another's weapon before sinking his blade through his chest. Luke tugged the blade from his body, simultaneously diverting a shot from the side.
He glanced toward the last man in his immediate vicinity, sensing the terror he felt at his impending doom. Luke stalked toward the man, his blue blade swiping a stray shot away. The soldier rose his weapon and Luke outstretched his gloved hand.
The marine was ripped up from the ground, his gun clattered across the floor as his hands clawed at his neck beneath the helmet.
Luke's danger sense flared and he ducked on command from a shot fired behind him. Another squad eased toward him with weapons blaring.
Luke squeezed his fist, killing the suspended trooper before swinging his arm and turning, flinging the dead man toward his comrades and broke their fire. Luke swiftly closed the distance and hacked each of them down without a second thought.
Freed up and satisfied Luke was watching his back, Starkiller made his way forward at a steady pace, cutting down anything that was in his path with no mercy.
Through the Force, he could feel their fear of the two powerhouses thinning their numbers. Their thoughts, however, weren't of the pair's abilities so much as it was their hope dying...
In one instant, Starkiller deactivated his lightsaber, and almost completely disappeared into the darkness.
The marines ceased their fire on him, pausing and turning in order to try and garner his position while fending off the advancing Stormtroopers. A few frantically fired at nothing, the smart ones shifted their attention toward Luke.
It's no use. Starkiller thought with a cold resolve. He was perched on top of one of the lower platforms, gathering his energy and keeping watch on his squad. Jeren was busy holding his blaster cannon at his hip while firing loud, large bolts near the edges of the platform to prevent any troopers from climbing up. Jax and Kiygan expertly weaved through the flanks while jetting around. Tash picked off every straggler and every threat not eliminated by Luke.
Starkiller then felt the presence of those men he'd been waiting for. The Dark Troopers hustled along the banks to find an entry point onto the large platform where the battle for the Fortress's main gates took place.
It was time to end it.
The Dark Side swirled around Starkiller, almost darkening the entire compound.
He stepped off of the platform.
Luke dashed backward behind Starkiller.
With thrusts of the Sith Lord's arms, a wave of energy exploded toward his enemies. Bones shattered, debris was sent hurtling along side the marines unfortunate enough to be caught in his direct line of sight.
He and Luke then lept high and once their feet touched the ground, landing in the giant gap Starkiller made in their group, they instantly became a whirling force of crimson and cerulean death. In a matter of seconds, they took out more and more of their forces.
Starkiller was dashing large distances from one group to the next with his lightsaber whirling violently.
Luke was brutally hacking down enemies in each group.
The marines were too disoriented to return fire for fear that they may hit their own comrades while others were pinned by Ethereal Squad and the Stormtroopers.
Luke and Starkiller's power grew with each life they took.
Sensing the Dark Side soldiers had arrived and making way to where he'd wanted them to, he halted his advance and shifted back into the ranks of his men while Luke pressed forward. "They're breaching the outer walls." Starkiller spoke into his comm device on his wrist, glancing to Luke who nodded. "I'll take them. Fall back to the hangar when you're finished here."
— - - —
Gallius Rax held his elbow, other hand stroking his chin in thought. Imperial TIE bombers were tearing one of his Star Destroyers apart, nearly all of them focusing on it. Like a swarm of bees dropping highly explosive bombs. The ship was lost, he'd come to terms with that, but why? Why focus on just one Destroyer? Especially when the Ark was the primary threat?
"Weapon charged in 50 seconds."
Rax sighed internally. Piett was planning something. Vader's Death Squadron hadn't fired a single shot outside of their meddling shield. Not a single Capital ship had breached to return fire. Surely they couldn't hide in there forever. "Has C-28 and the Dark Troopers reaches the shield generator?"
"No, sir. They're still making way."
Rax frowned. The battle was supposed to be enough distraction for C-28 and his squad to take out the shields. Vader's Fortress was impenetrable while protected, and so was his fleet.
Maybe not from a direct shot from the weapon.
Even so...
Vader couldn't hide forever. And he was much too smart to sit in his castle and wait for Rax to destroy it. He always had a plan and at least two backups. This offensive could cripple the Empire. With the 501'st gone, the Emperor would have to reveal his project fleets to the Galaxy and risk driving the Senate and countless systems away for his underhanded, private funding for said projects. Vader had broken his own laws and created a private militia, and an incredibly dangerous one at that.
Darth Vader had to destroy Rax here and now. And the thought unnerved the Admiral greatly. Confident as he was, nobody was calm when Darth Vader wanted their head.
"Weapon charged!"
Rax smirked lightly. Piett's shield couldn't take another hit from his weapon. "Target the Executor. Fire when ready."
Rax saw the bright glow of the weapons priming. The beams shot out and converged. With a loud boom, they fired.
The shields buckled under the intense power of the Ark's Fission Plasma Cannons and in a wonderful display of destruction, the blasts demolished a corvette and smashed into a Star Destroyer behind it that protected the Super Star Destroyer. Massive chunks of the Destroyer collided with surrounding ships, it's engine bay detonating in a bright, yellow and blue against an adjacent Destroyer, completely disabling it.
The Death Squadron immediately opened fire.
Rax's fleet fired back.
Explosions shook the Ark, but nothing that even remotely made Rax fear for it's shield's integrity.
But again... the Executor moved into attack position and finished off the Destroyer that the TIE bombers had been focusing on.
"Sir! There's a massive power reading coming from the planet!"
"It's a planetary Ion cannon!"
Rax scowled. "Evasive actions!"
The Dreadnought slowly pulled up.
A huge, crackling blue shot made a hole through Mustafar's atmosphere.
Rax's ship shook violently. The lights flickered and detonated and electricity sparked from every console, a few officers being fried in their seats.
The Imperial Armada redirected their attack, battering the Ark with a hellfire of brutal turbolasers and various missiles and rockets.
"Where are the backup generators!?" Rax screamed in rage.
Receiving no answer, Rax stomped to a console and shoved the dead, smoking man seated there out of the way. It's terminal was useless.
Gallius slammed his fist against it and pulled out his personal comm. "Where the hell is the backup power!?"
"Working on it, Admiral!" A man yelled back over the alarms in the service bay.
Another wave of attacks hit the ship.
Rax fell.
His ship was capable of surviving a beating like this, but only for so long. He needed those generators.
As if his prayers were answered, the few lights that hadn't detonated flickered on and various control panels sparked to life, rebooting.
"Shields at 28% power!"
"Weapons at 59%!"
"We don't have enough power to fire the weapon! The main reactor hasn't the power to reboot properly!"
"Engines at 21% efficiency!"
Rax pushes himself up and dusted off his uniform. "Get a repair team down there this instant!"
"Already en-route!"
Rax stomped back to the viewport, face red from fuming anger. A trickle of blood slid down the side of his face from his impact with the floor.
His ship wouldn't survive another direct hit from that cannon. Not with the 501'st ready to engage at a moment's notice. Oddly, the fleet ceased fire.
"Admiral! They've repaired their shield! It's back up!"
So. That was their plan. Hit and hide. How distasteful. "Focus fire on that planetary Ion cannon!" He barked.
"Yes sir!"
Rax's fleet instantly spewed red down onto the planet.
"Direct hit! The Ion cannon is disabled!"
Rax smirked.
"Full power has been restored, Admiral! The Weapon is back online!"
"Target the Fortress's generators." Rax hissed. "The fleet may be protected, but the Fortress shield cannot survive a direct hit."
"Target locked!"
Dark elation spread through him. "Destroy it!"
— - - —
Starkiller sprinted through the Fortress, senses on high alert while keeping track of the super soldiers he raced to intercept. The Shadow Council's marines had yet to breach the structure due to Luke's continued destruction, so his path was clear.
Starkiller turned a corner and made way for the inner circle where there the generators were beaming the shields that covered the Fortress and the fleet in space.
He took a step around the corner. A step that seemed to echo through the corridors, and stopped.
The Force jolted him into stunned shock.
The ground suddenly rumbled.
Starkiller took a step back.
Sweat dropped off of his chin. A cold sweat.
Dark foreboding descended on him as the distinctive sound of the destructive beam of the Ark's primary weapon reached his ear.
With his eyes wide in fear, he could only round the corner, stepping backward, turn and run for his life. To get as far away as possible.
The ground beneath him suddenly buckled.
A chilling cold crawled up his spine and then a searing heat burned his skin.
He suddenly couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything. He couldn't feel anything.
There was only black.
— - - —
The Fortress's very foundation shook violently. An explosion of fire hot as the lava and bright as the sun lit the night sky. Massive chunks of debris splayed out in thick plumes of smoke, crashing into the lakes and the ashen land.
Darth Vader quickly found his balance. He was confident in his Fortress's integrity. The blast wasn't a direct hit, the shields did their job. The shot blew the side of the cliff it stood on wide open.
Strong as the castle was, it couldn't survive another direct hit.
The glass of the viewport he frequently gazed out of had shattered. The table and chairs were smashed against the walls. Lights flickered, panels sparked.
The hot winds rushed inside, his cape fluttered high behind him.
It was only a matter of time before Rax targeted the Fortress, time he'd hoped to have more of. Nonetheless...
Vader turned. The broken blast doors to his office opened forcefully as he walked toward them.
The shrouded man serving as Vader's aide ran to catch up with the Emperor, his wrinkled skin caked with blood from a fall, but alive and willing to serve.
"Take the Princess to my shuttle." Vader stiffly ordered.
The man stumbled with the collapse of a portion of the Fortress. A crash that seemingly had no effect on his Emperor.
"And prepare the fighters."
— - - —
Something was wrong.
The moment the buzzing in Luke's ears silenced and his blurry vision cleared, the Force whispered menacingly.
Luke stood, glancing all around him at the men, friendly and enemies alike struggling to regain their senses. And then there was the Fortress. Huge chunks of rubble still fell from the cliff-side, crashing into the molten lakes. Smoke billowed up, mingling with the black clouds.
It all felt so wrong. There was a pit in his stomach, the same one he'd felt when he thought Leia had died. But he still sensed her presence. And his father's. Which meant...
Without second thought, he sprinted toward the castle.
— - - —
A shuttle sailed across the darkened sky, uninhibited by the dogfights around it. Soaring through the massive clouds of smoke, it came to a steady hover over a partially destroyed landing platform, ramps lowering.
Light from the shuttle's interior glinted off the metallic mask covering C-28's face and the wispy, torn lower robes extending from his belt flowed as he stalked onto the ground. A group of three followed. Their pitch, matte black armor and ominous helmets almost blended in with the smoky clouds above. They marched in unison, blasters held close to their chests and followed their leader into the cavernous opening of Darth Vader's Fortress where a bridge crossed over the lava below, a circular platform in it's center.
A security squad of Stormtroopers rounded the corner of the expansive room. C-28's escort shifted forward, raising their blasters in unison. Red bolts of plasma erupted, sounds echoing loudly.
C-28 unhooked his lightsaber and it sprang to life, shedding blood red across his form. He darted across the bridge so fast, the Stormtroopers hardly had time to process. With masterful twirls of his blade and swift movements, he cut down the troops that hadn't already been gunned down.
Chunks of white armor over dismembered body parts lay strewn around him in a brutal scene of merciless annihilation.
Another group appeared at the end of the hallway, this one lead by one of Vader's infamous Inquisitors.
C-28's Dark Troopers were beside him, their blasters bucking from the recoil of automatic fire. The Inquisitor nimbly evaded, the double sided saber he wielded crackling to life.
The Dark Troopers knew to focus fire on the Stormtroopers. C-28 would handle their leader.
Had he been a man still, he would've felt dark elation. Instead, he only felt cold, heartless resolve.
He bolted forward as the Inquisitor lept, his blade twirling on it's axis only to stop as he slammed one side into C-28's lightsaber.
The Inquisitor took a step back and his blade spun like a saw leaving sparks and streaks of hot metal on the ground. C-28 waited patiently for the show to end. "Your head will be a wonderful gift for Lord Vader." The Inquisitor's voice was raspy and almost nasally.
Blaster bolts sped harmlessly past the two, shots from the Dark Troopers leaving gaping, burnt holes in the Stormtroopers chests. More reinforced them.
The Inquisitor spun his weapon in a flashy attempt to startle C-28, but Darth Sidious's creation was not impressed. He instead slashed his blade and exchanged three quick attacks that cracked against his opponent's saber.
He purposefully left himself open for counterattack after analyzing the Inquisitor's strategy. Vader's pet took the bait, lunging in to impale C-28 but the attack was batted away with strength that made the Inquisitor stumble.
C-28 rose his blade and cut right through the center of the lightsaber the Inquisitor held. It sparked as it died down and the Shadow Council's enforcer drank in the Inquisitor's palpable fear before ending his pathetic life.
The Dark Sider fell to the ground in two pieces.
C-28 stepped over the mess. He stalked forward, intercepting bolts from the Stormtroopers who's minds were clouded in terror.
The slaughter that followed was quick, each of them hacked down as if standing still.
Their deaths meant little to C-28. When compared to his prize, nothing was worthy of meaning.
He and his Dark Troopers came across a hallway destroyed. The floors had caved into an antechamber below. And there lied C-28's true target.
The masked man jumped to the floor below, landing on the chunks of ruble beneath.
His target stood meters away, facing him. Waiting for him.
The Starkiller.
C-28 jumped off of the rubble.
The Sith Lord stepped into the ample light cast from above. A trail of blood followed. The left side of his face was scorched almost to the bone, vision halved because of it. Half of his tunic had burnt completely off leaving only charred skin and muscle on his shoulder and part way onto his chest an back. In that hand, he held his saber. It's chrome finish smeared red.
The saber roared to life.
Darkness swirled between them like a hurricane of fierce hatred.
Starkiller's jaw set as C-28 raised his blade in a ready stance. He was prepared to attack, but made no move quite yet.
Through the fog of pain, the Sith could feel his enemy's fear of him. He was wary, and rightfully so.
The pair stared each other down for several long moments.
Then, Starkiller lunged with all the ferocity of the Dark Side. Their blades crackled with energy in a deadly lock.
C-28 broke the lock, and began to swing his saber at the offending Sith, but his offensive didn't last long at all. Starkiller blocked two blows, and countered savagely with four. His attacks were quick, and powerful, and blindingly accurate. C-28 found himself barely able to mitigate killing blows.
Even wounded and on his last leg, Darth Vader's apprentice was a terrifying foe. He had maddening power, the Dark Side was almost physically heavy.
C-28 blocked a downward strike, but was sent careening backward with a cracking wave of power. He slammed into the ruble with a thud, his breath knocked out of his lungs, and his awareness blurry.
He heard blaster fire erupt from the men above, but he could feel their lives snuffed out almost instantly and actually hearing their bodies smack against the floor.
Starkiller suddenly turned to C-28 with dark intent in his eyes. He reached his hand out as C-28 stood, and he was suddenly frozen in place.
Scratching at the floor of his mind, the Sith Lord's black tendrils of power dug into C-28. He was almost easily sifting through his mind.
All at once, the claw of the Dark Side squeezed, digging its talons right into the depths of the masked shadow's consciousness. A jolt of hatred penetrated his brain, burning like acid, sinking itself forcefully deeper and deeper.
A look of sheer surprise crossed C-28's mind, and a scoff of pain followed instantly. It came in waves, singular jolts of pure fire burning his brain. An anguished yell escaped his throat, and his lightsaber clattered to the floor quickly followed by the full thud of his knees collapsing to the ground. He grabbed his head in a vain attempt to stop this agony.
It only got worse. Starkiller's power drilled deeper into his brain and he was near helpless to stop it. Screams of pure agony distorted his voice, cracking with instability as his own hands squeezed his head.
His head was going to explode, pressure built at a rapid rate.
And then it did. Like his head was made of glass, he no longer felt pain. He felt...
Nothing.
His mind's eye introverted on itself, as if he was watching his memories play back for him in a jumbled, chaotic mess. Memories he... didn't know he had. The life of someone he didn't know played for him.
Show me what you fear, and I will force you to face it!
Fear?
A plethora of images shot through his vision, resting on vague, incomplete memories of his a childhood he didn't remember. Faces he didn't know, a planet he'd never seen. Memories locked away in his psyche with intentions to never be touched again.
Show me! What do you fear?!
Starkiller's enraged voice rang so loud in C-28's head that it rattled what little concentration he had on trying to piece together his own mind.
"Fear...?" He heard himself say.
True fear was a concept he didn't know.
At least... he didn't think he did...
— - - — - - —
A room.
Black walls.
Dim lights...
It all came into focus. Muffled voices cleared.
C-28 found himself face to face with the former Dark Lord of the Sith himself seated high above him on a chair serving as a throne up dozens of stairs.
A memory... he was being shown his fears.
"Y-you're the Emperor." He stated cautiously. "But you can't be. I can feel the Dark Side in you."
C-28 was young. A boy maybe. He was in chains... He vaguely remembered being captured, though unable to remember why.
His mind was now fully alert, brimming with curiosity, fear and confusion.
"I am Darth Sidious. Dark Lord of the Sith." Palpatine proclaimed dramatically. "And ruler of the Empire."
The boy's eyes widened in recognition. In utter fear. Sith... like Vader.
"Indeed, my boy." Sidious slowly scaled down the steps, his cane snapping against the floor. "I have been looking for someone like you for many years."
He struggled against his restraints, tapping into the power of the Force only to find it refuting his call. "Let me go!"
Palpatine smiled evilly. "Your anger... I can feel it." He hissed. "Yes... yes."
"I said let me go!"
"Oh... I'm afraid you'll be staying for quite some time." Sidious responded in a patronizing show of fake concern. "You will learn to call this place your home."
"My friends will rescue me." C-28 huffed haughtily.
The Emperor cackled at that. It made anger swell in his chest. "Your friends are dead, young Jedi."
"Wha-?" He felt his entire body go numb. "No... no that's not true! You're lying!"
"Fear not, young Jedi. In time, you will forget them." Palpatine's show of faux concern only added to C-28's oncoming state of panic. "You now serve me."
— - - — - - —
"And now you'll serve Darth Vader." Starkiller growled darkly.
C-28's heart pounded.
Rage exploded through the Force.
Starkiller stumbled back, briefly stunned at the power.
The man that was once C-28 stood huffing, shoulders puffed out like an animal. "I will never bow to anyone again."
With a scowl, Starkiller grabbed his saber. It was time to put the fear of a Sith Lord into this man.
The moment the blade hissed to life, C-28 snapped.
He sprinted forward, the Force shaking at his anger and brought his saber down harshly. Starkiller stopped the blade dead in it's tracks. They locked the one remaining eye each had, sickly yellow meeting each other.
Their lock broke, and the raging shadow lashed out ferociously at Starkiller, the slices of his blade humming wildly, crashing against The Sith Lord's who simply defended for the moment, watching his opponents movements like a hawk, finding weak spots in his stance, and his execution. Form V, no mystery to Starkliler.
How foolish to use a form of combat Starkiller was intimately familiar with.
This man left himself open for an attack. Very tiny pockets of vulnerability.
C-28 came down on him with a strike, putting surprising strength and body weight into it.
Starkiller brought his saber up, catching the red blade and redirecting the power to his side. C-28 stumbled forward. Starkiller gave himself a moment of respite to catch his breath and ease his dizziness before spinning on his heel and using that momentum for a quick, and powerful strike.
The Sith Lord felt C-28's surprised fear. He quickly, and rudimentary brought his saber up. Their blades connected, and the sheer force of the attack knocked his saber hand away from him, leaving him completely open.
Starkiller poised to stab him, lunging much too fast for him to block or parry it. He stepped directly to his right, the blade of his enemy searing through the side of his stomach. He winced, grunting his displeasure as he backed off to regain his defensive position.
The Sith held his blade lazily at his side, vacant, emotionless stare in his corrupted eyes, scrutinizing his enemy. They circled each other, the masked man standing in an opening stance for Makashi, and the Sith dragging his lightsaber carelessly through the ground, reverberating the sound of energy cracking against ground beneath.
C-28 growled. He was being mocked! This little Sith Lord thought he was better than him!
Rage welled inside of him. His senses expanded through the Force.
Starkiller was dominant thus far. He blocked C-28's harsh emotions out of his mind. They were loud like a shrill whistle in a vacant maze.
In an unpredictably fast movement, he dashed at Starkiller. The Sith blocked the strike... but his ankle buckled as if he'd taken a bad step.
Fear flooded the antechamber.
Starkiller shifted quickly backward as C-28 ducked low, and swung his blade at Starkiller's inside.
A painful grunt satisfyingly rang in raging man's ear.
He popped back up and glared at the Sith, a still glowing slash across his chest.
Power was rapidly draining from him... he felt his body begin to give in to it's wounds.
The Sith apprentice scowled deeply and dashed forward. C-28 spun, a blade knocking Starkiller's saber away and coming fiercely back with a counter, ready to slice Starkiller's head clean off.
He ducked at the last second, retaliating quickly with a slice of his own to which the masked assassin quickly adjusted his lightsaber to block.
Starkiller was forced to lunge forward to avoid the lethal lightsaber slicing his head.
The Sith Lord's urgency heightened. He was running out of time...
Starkiller rolled quickly out of his dive, only to be forced to defend against C-28 who became a flurry of movement, spinning, dashing, and striking blindingly fast attacks. A whirlwind of unpredictable lethality.
C-28 quickly came down on his enemy once more, feeling the buckle in his opponent's defense, his attack struck harder than the first, pushing Starkiller's arm in a most vulnerable place. C-28's blade slid up, and nearly sliced Starkiller's lightsaber at it's emitter. Instead, it flew out of his hands.
Starkiller suddenly crashed against the wall, his breath left his lungs like the power left his body.
He realized... he was too weak to fight.
C-28 kept Starkiller pinned, his deep feral breaths coming out in angry growls. Shutting down his saber, he slowly walked toward the battered Sith.
Starkiller refused to panic. He refused to feel fear of any kind. He only searched for ways to regain the dominance that slipped away from him.
He saw his lightsaber just feet away.
It flew into his hand, but not as fast as C-28 had closed the distance between them.
With one hand around Starkiller's neck, the other pinned his wrist to the wall and squeezed.
With every ounce of strength he could muster, Starkiller pushed back, glaring hatefully into the mask in front of him.
But C-28 was too strong.
Starkiller's wrist buckled with a snap and his lightsaber was swiped from his hand.
He felt the cold metal press against the exposed skin on his chest.
Death called out to him, but he only smirked in the face of his killer. "You have no idea what's coming for you."
C-28 paused.
"I know what you fear. He's coming for you." Starkiller continued. "You can't run, he will catch you. And you know what?" His grin widened. "You'll never be strong enough to face him."
A jolt of rage surged from the masked villain.
A snap-hiss rang through the antechamber and Starkiller inhaled a sharp, pained breath.
He allowed himself to rest.
Galen Marek's body went limp, his head slumped onto his killer's shoulder as his last breath left his lips.
C-28 pulled the blade from Starkiller's heart, letting his body fall to the ground. He glared at it with hatred burning in his gaze.
He won.
But his hands couldn't stop shaking. He was feeling it again... true fear.
Starkiller's weapon crumpled in his hand before he cocked his arm back and launched it against the wall with an enraged scream.
He'd done it... he should be elated!
But he was terrified instead.
— - - —
His feet couldn't carry him fast enough. He thought maybe if he made it there quickly, somehow he'd be in time to stop it.
When Luke Skywalker came across the antechamber, it became real. Starkiller was dead.
He slid on his knees to a halt at the side of his fallen comrade. His friend. His brother.
He fruitlessly checked for a pulse, pumped Starkiller's chest, threatened him to wake up. Against all logic, he begged the Force to bring his friend back.
But there was no point.
He couldn't cry, the tears just wouldn't come. He could hear Starkiller chastising him for shedding tears over his body. Perhaps that's what prevented them from coming.
A quick swarm of emotion ending with a flash of rage left Luke drained. He felt numb. Responsible, even. He cursed his training for not being fast enough or sensing it in time.
He cursed his father for not being there to save his apprentice...
The Dark Lord's footsteps echoed through the antechamber, coming to a stop behind Luke. He expected to sense disappointment from his father.
But he felt... sadness.
He placed a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "Come."
Luke ground his teeth, that flash of rage rearing it's head once more.
"This isn't over yet."
The hand left Luke's shoulder as Vader turned. Emptiness returned to Luke's chest.
As he moved to stand, the shimmer of Starkiller's saber caught his eye. A crumple, mangle mess of blood smeared metal.
Luke walked over and picked it up. That weapon had saved his life on many occasions.
But Luke failed to save Starkiller's.
Luke tucked the weapon on the back of his belt where his old, useless one was and followed his father out of the chamber.
Each step made the weight in his chest heavier and heavier.
— - -— - - — - - — - - —
— - - —
Seriously, thank you all for the kind words. It means a lot to have someone appreciate something I've put a lot of work into.
I'm going to be generous and post this part early. Usually I hold off posting until I've written two chapters ahead but think of this as a thank you for all the support.
