Entry Three

My past before the Sith is unimportant to me. I know I am a Zabrak from Iridonia, but that is all. I do not know the name my parents gave me or even if they did. But I care nothing about my beginnings. I am interested in what I am and what I will become. Whether or not my parents searched for me does not matter. They were powerless against a Sith.

My Master has often said, The feelings of the powerless do not matter.

My Master saved me. Without him I would have been a superior being trapped in an ordinary life or claimed by the Jedi. My Master recognized a great power in me even as a baby. He raised me in the way of the ancient Sith, showing me how anger and aggression make the Force grow.

Our order is almost as old as the Jedi. Our founder was a Jedi Knight who realized that blocking out the stronger part of the Force was foolish. Embracing the entirety of the Force is the key to its power. Because of his vision he was expelled from the Jedi order.

Instead of meekly accepting his banishment he told others of his vision. A large number of Jedi understood the truth of his teachings and left the temple, going into exile with him on the planet Korriban. The natives there, the Sith, welcomed the exiles as gods and their order became known as the Sith Lords. But they grew too numerous and over confident. They were divided against eachother when they fought the Jedi at Ruusan. There was only one survivor, a Sith Lord called Darth Bane. It was he who established the rule by two code. There can be only one master and one apprentice. The simplicity of the strategy was its genius. It has allowed the Sith to survive and grow undetected for a thousand years.

It is because of our strength that we can exist as only two. We do not need a temple full of children to nurse and train or a Council of debating weaklings. We do not need a legion of blind Knights to keep us secure. Two of us are sufficient. Two of us are powerful.

My first lessons from my Master were in discipline. When I was confined in darkness, deprived of nourishment and shelter, and subjected to physical injuries, it was all to teach me a lesson. A child cries when he is hungry, when he can smell his food but not reach it, or when he falls and breaks a bone. He does not understand that the pain makes him stronger.

Punishment is a lesson, young Maul. Learn it well.

I quickly learned not to cry.

As a young child I was often taken to desolate worlds for outdoor training. My Master would test my endurance and hone my ability to use the Force. Once during my training I landed in a dinko nest. Dinkos are small aggressive creatures with two claws that lock onto their victim. Before it attacks a dinko sprays a sour venom. When I landed in its nest I startled the creature and it attacked me, spraying its venom into my eyes before clamping onto my arm. I flinched and screamed as I bashed the creature onto a nearby rock. I looked over at my Master, proud of my courage. I was a child.

'You flinched,' he said with disapproval in his voice. 'You were afraid of the dinko.'

'Yes Master,' I admitted. 'But I controlled my fear.'

I knew a punishment would come, yet that evening I ate my usual meal. I was not confined in a sensory deprivation suit, nor was I forced to sleep on a hard floor. The heat was not turned off. During the next day my routine continued as usual. Finally I forgot about the incident. I was young.

A few nights later, after a long day of hard training I returned to my quarters. My door closed behind me and the lights stayed off. I felt fear creep up on me as my senses alerted me to the presence of multiple creatures in my room. As I turned around to try to open the door a dinko leapt at me from its perch on the wall. As I tore it off my shoulder another one jumped up my leg. Then another landed on top of my head. The room was filled with angry dinkos. When I tried to open the door it would not budge. The venom from the many creatures blinded my eyes so I could not use them to find and kill the dinkos.

It took me nearly all night to kill the creatures and when the morning came my door opened and my Master stood in the passageway. My skin was inflamed and bleeding and my tunic was in ribbons. My eyes burned and my vision was blurred as I looked at my Master.

'Do not flinch again,' he said.

The punishment is a lesson. My Lord Sidious taught me well. There could be no better teacher among the Jedi.

I learned to see through the eyes of my Master. He showed me the galaxy and explained it in terms of power - who had it and who did not. He showed me the vast resources of many worlds that are there for the taking. The concerns of most beings are petty. Food and shelter are luxuries, not necessities. Love and sacrifice for a fellow being, a world, or a cause is not only a distraction but a danger. I have seen my Master use such weaknesses in others for his own ends.

True I am willing to die for my Master, but the life that I have is owed to him alone. Someday I will be Master and have my own apprentice, and he will be willing to die for me. I am prepared to take over the role of Master and find an apprentice should the need arise. I will not back down from the challenge. I have trained all my life for it. But my Master will survive and he will ride the crest of the tide of power when the time comes.

My Master called me too him after a short time. He had been contacted by the Neimoidians twice already since the first transmission. He informed me that the Neimoidians had failed to destroy the Jedi and allowed them to land on the planet with the invasion armies. Irritated and angry he donned his dark hooded robe and stood on the transmission platform. His identity, like mine, must remain unknown until our enemies are destroyed.

Remember, Maul, what is done in secret has great power.

My Master ordered me to remain out of the range of the transmitter as he activated the beam that would send his image across space to the Neimoidians on Naboo. It took less than a minute for the Neimoidians to respond to my Master's summons, but long enough for his irritation with them to double.

Viceroy Gunray and his new lieutenant Rune Haako were seated side by side at a long narrow table. Gunray fidgeted nervously under my Master's stare and started to mumble a report.

'We control all the cities in the northern and western part of the Naboo territory,' he boasted. 'And we are searching for any other settlements where resistance-'

My Master silenced Gunray and ordered him to destroy the high-ranking officials quietly. Then he asked the question that was the reason for his transmission. 'What of Queen Amidala? Has she signed the treaty?'

The Neimoidian seemed to sink lower into his chair as he forced the answer out. 'She has disappeared, my lord. There was an escape-'

'An escape?' My Master hissed. He seemed to have anticipated a problem of that magnitude.

Gunray blubbered an excuse but was quickly silenced again by my Master. He demanded to know the details of the escape. His anger bristled when he heard of the involvement of the Jedi. He thundered at the Neimoidians, ordering that they find the ship and get the treaty signed. After yet another excuse I sensed my Master calling me from the darkness to stand behind him. It was gratifying to see the terror on the Neimoidians' faces when they received my image. My appearance silenced any more excuses. Fear can be a powerful tool. I did not have to say a word and they cowered before my Master and me.

Gunray looked between the two of us, shocked and dismayed.

Yes, fools, there are two of us, I thought as my Master informed the Neimoidians that I would find the lost ship. He cut the transmission off with a slight wave of his hand and turned to me, his face taut with rage.

'Queen Amidala must sign the treaty.'

He did not have to say any more. I immediately started my search for the ship after I left his presence.