Bespin Space Port: Year 15

My master and I had stopped at the Bespin Space Port to refuel our ships and refill our food rations.
By that time I was a fully grown, 23 year old man, all of 6ft. 2in. and 185lbs., in G1 gravity. My body was a chiseled mass of destruction, and I had proved my worth – several times.

I was old enough and confident enough that my master and I were flying separate, one man, space ships to further our advantage in ship-to-ship fighting. I think he also liked to have his own privacy and space after having me tag along with him those past 15 years.
For me, It was nice to put things somewhere and have them still be there several hours later.

I was at the cantina on the space port, talking with a local drunkard who looked like he was in his mid 50s. Full beard and mustache. Ragged clothes, complete with a cane. He also couldn't keep his mouth shut. He kept going on and on about his best friend betraying him.
"You never know someone until you've got them cornered, sonny.", he slurred into his glass of liquor.
Being liquored up, myself, I couldn't help but talk, either. "What happened?".
He continued to tell me, "My 'friend' came up to me one day and told me that he did the worst thing any friend could do."
Apparently, his best friend had killed his son and never revealed it to this guy until years later.
"That finally explained why he wasn't there when I needed him.", he then showed me the nub – all that's left of his right leg. "He told me that he was too busy killing a Sith learner. I figured that it made him feel big about killing one of those damned Sith. So I congratulated him; all those years ago..." He orders another drink before continuing, "...only to find out a year ago, today, that it was my own son. The teacher that had been mentoring him was a Sith Lord and my buddy found this out...He killed my son. My legacy."
I couldn't contain my drunken curiosity, "How long ago did your son die?"
"16 years ago," he put his hand on my shoulder, "He would be about your age, now."
"What of your friend?", I asked.

"He was a Jedi. I'm normal. I shot a few blaster rounds at him, but he blocked them, easily. He didn't attack me; said that he knew how I felt, and left. I haven't seen him since.", he slammed the rest of his drink and stood up, hobbling on his false leg toward the bathroom.

All of this got me to thinking:
A Sith lord lost his learner 16 years ago. According to protocol, he would have been looking for another learner, right away.
16 years ago, after the explosion, Master Klo'ek was right there - knowing all about my potential abilities and saving me from an orphanage.
It also hit home about trusting your so-called 'best friends'...
Hmm. Wait a minute. I was drunk, but my instincts felt right.

"God damn it!"

I slammed the rest of my drink onto the counter, spilling the rum, and stormed out.
The barkeep yelled after me, "Hey, buddy! You didn't pay!"
I didn't care. I was on a mission.

A large bouncer caught me at the door of the bar, standing in front of me and blocking my quick exit.
"Hey, man, you're not going anywh-", he didn't have time to finish his sentence before my bright red light saber blade was sticking out of his back.
With a quick wisp, he was cut in two and laying on the floor – another bloodless kill. The bar was in a frenzy.
Even in my drunken state, I could still sense a blaster round heading toward me from the bar. I didn't even look, I just put my blade behind my back and deflected it, killing another bystander. It was purely the barkeeps' fault for firing at me.

I continued on, down the hallways of the space port, my blade whirring with every rushed step. My blurred eyes made my single blade look like two.
I shook my head to clear my eyes.

I didn't even wait for the door to open to the traders' store. I cut the last quarter of the plating off the hinges as it swiped open.

"KLO'EK!"; I didn't even use his proper surname.

My 'Master' turned from talking to the trader at the counter and looked at me. The trader backed away, into the stock room when he saw my blade digging into the floor.
"What is your problem?", his eyes wide in shock.
I approached him and swung my blade. Even with his Force abilities waning, he was still fast enough to pull his blade and cross mine.
I forced my body toward him, making him lean back over the counter.
"You killed my mother!", my body was full of the inner fire; the full force of the dark side was pulsing through me like the Phoenix, rising from the ashes. I was a ball of drunken fire.

"Who told you?", his face strained against my force. I could sense the truth behind all of his lies over the years, screaming out to me like a banshee from somewhere in the back of my mind.
"I figured it out, myself. Me and a half gallon of Rum. Why did you do it!" I was less interested in the answer than slicing him in half.
"You had a lot more potential than Earth could ever offer you, kid." he shoved me away with his foot and stood against the counter. I regained my stance after slicing a display rack in two from wavering. I'm on him, again. "I'm not a kid anymore, old man."

By this time a group of beings, both from the cantina and from passing by had gathered around the store to watch.
"You could have just lied to my mother...told her that you were taking me to a Prep school! You didn't have to kill her!", we crossed blades two more times, my blade shoving his through the counter he was forced against and cracking his handle into pieces.
Master Klo'ek used what little force he was able to muster to push another display rack at me. I easily held it in mid-air and threw it at him. He had no time, or ability, to deflect it.
The rack laid him out on his back.

Hovering over him, I put my blade to his throat.
"I hate you.", a single tear ran down my cheek as I stared at him. That was the first time I felt any sadness since losing my mother.
"Good. That hate will enhance your use of the Dark Side. I can feel your hurt.", he was begging, "Allow me to show you how to use that hate to your fullest."

"I have no more use for you.", I brought my blade high above my head, hesitating for a second, and brought it down on his neck. I expected him to block it, saving his miserable life, but instead, his head rolled along the dirty, steel floor like a bowling ball.
He couldn't block. His light saber was broken.
That was it. He was dead.

In a way, I think he knew I was at my fullest potential. He knew he was an old fodder with no use left in him, and he let me end his life.

I grabbed the pieces of his light saber and walked out of the traders' store. The trader peeked around the corner as I left, but never said a word.
He knew what had just happened. He mourned for me. I could feel it.

I left the traders' store as the crowd parted.

Walking further, the crowd started to applaud me for my victory.
I'm not sure if they knew I was actually a Sith, myself. For all I knew, they thought I was a Jedi who had just killed a Sith.
Either that, or they felt I was crossing to the light side and opposed the Sith by killing my old master.
Little did they know, killing your master was part of the Sith tradition. It would have happened sooner or later. I just brought his death on my own terms.

I walked to the docking bays and headed toward my ship.
I passed my masters' ship on the way to mine and stopped. I had to go through his things – to see if I could use anything he didn't need anymore.
His ship was an exact copy of mine, so I knew all the cubby holes and secrets.
Opening a compartment, I found a small metal box and opened it.
Inside I found several pictures of me and my old neighborhood. Notes about my school and work schedule. I also found documents containing the schematics to my old house. He had been spying on me for quite some time..
"Why would he have all this stuff after all these years?", I asked myself, "It seems that he would have gotten rid of all of this after he took me in."

Just then, a blaster round hit the outside of the ship.
Security had caught up with me for killing the bouncer in the cantina.
My buzz was starting to wear off, but I was still over confident.
I grabbed the box and ran out of the loading ramp, igniting my blade. I blocked a single shot and harmlessly sent it off into the rafters.
"Stop where you are!", a guard shouted, but I kept walking backward toward my ship.
Blocking a couple more blasts, I boarded my ship and started to hover over the launch pad.
I took one last look at my dead masters' ship, before I blasted it into a ball of fire with my cannons, exterminating more than half of the security personnel.

As I pulled away from the space port, without a clearance, I thought back to my childhood.
"Sierra Charlie Six-Four-Niner-Four-Three, you are not cleared for takeoff. Land immediately and wait for a clearance.", a voice comes over the radio.
"Try and stop me.", I responded in my deepest voice.
I could hear the ramblings of security officers in the background as the traffic controller responded.

After some a few seconds I hear, "Niner-Four-Three, You have traffic, 9 o'clock, at five thousand-five hundred. Report them in sight."
I looked outside my cockpit, seeing the cargo ship to my left. "I have the traffic, Niner-Four-Three.", a standard traffic call.
They were letting me go. I don't know if it was because they were afraid, or because they were being respectful. I took it, either way.

From there I headed to Alderaan, in search of a Sith learner.That was the tradition. That was my goal.
That was how my story began - hunting a Padawan and losing my hand.

I had to find a Sith apprentice.