The Fighting Pit

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, nor do I make any money from this story. This is merely a fanfiction for entertainment purposes only.

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Space.

A small Rebel blockade runner floated adrift as several smaller repair vessels worked tirelessly on several scorched areas of its hull. Four X-wing starfighters patrolled the area.

Onboard, the commander of the Rebel ship, Commander Tyson, sat and addressed the holoimages of Mon Mothma, Garm Bel Iblis and Bail Organa.

"… and we were lucky to escape the Imperial ambush in one piece," the captain finished, stroking his beard. "But we were able to seize several designs for prototype TIE fighters from their shipyards."

Bail Organa nodded. "Our technicians will analyze them. Perhaps we can repurpose the Imperial technology for our own use."

Commander Tyson nodded. "And with your permission, I would like to commence my shore leave."

Bail nodded. "Yes. It has been some time since you've seen your wife. Your son must be getting quite big. How old is he again?"

"He will be celebrating his second birthday next week."

"Then you must be there to celebrate," Mon Mothma replied. "Permission granted. Good work, Commander."

The holoimages flickered out and the captain turned to his desk. He had a present for his son. A small stuffed Wookie wearing a bow. He hoped his son would like it. He wiped some dust off from the hairy toy's head and set it down.

His son had always like Wookies, and the Commander had a special fondness for them himself after several of them saved his life on Kashyyk when he was just a novice gunner in the Clone Wars. He met his wife in the corp., and they married five years after the end of the war.

However, the two had always wanted to have a child. But for whatever reason, he and his wife could never conceive. Doctor after doctor, test after test, all indicating that his wife was barren.

But the commander did not give up hope. He remembered the friendship he had with the Wookies of Kashyyk and three years ago, a Wookie priestess offered to examine his wife. His wife was reluctant at first, but reluctantly agreed. But the Wookie priestess was surprisingly gentle. The Wookie chanted an old prayer and the next thing they knew, his wife was carrying their son.

The commander hadn't figured out whether there really was something to the Wookie's prayer or if the whole thing was just a fluke, but almost two years ago his son was born.

The commander was hoping for more than a shore leave. He wanted to give Mon Mothma his notice of resignation.

He wanted to take his wife and son and leave all wars behind.

He wanted to raise his son in the Outer Rim, and one day take him to Kashyyk.

KABOOM!

A violent explosion rocked the ship, and Commander Tyson was thrown from his seat. A lieutenant raced into the room as alarms blared.

"Sir! We're under attack"

Commander Tyson whirled around to look out his viewscreen. Two Star Destroyers had come out of lightspeed and now had pinned his small cruiser like a vice.

And the Star Destroyers began unleashing TIE fighters.

The Commander was flabbergasted. "How did they find us? We left no trace!"

Had they been followed?

The Commander watched as the four X-wings locked their S-foils into attack position.

"Sir? Orders?"

The captain sat down in his chair. Four X-wings and a damaged Corellian Corvette – against two Imperial Star Destroyers. He knew it was a lost cause.

Outside, the Star Destroyers began blasting the blockade runner, laser bolts rupturing its hull.

The four X-wings raced by, scores of TIE fighters giving chase.

One TIE fighter – a black interceptor model – came out of hyperspace and dove into a spiral, spraying all four X-wings with bolts of green. The ships were lanced with laser bolts, and there were four spectacular explosions.

The two Star Destroyers began their bombardment on the blockade runner. Captain Tyson watched solemnly as they opened fire.

And just like that, the cruiser was reduced to slag and rubble.

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Onboard his black interceptor, the Dark Apprentice relaxed his grip on the controls. He punched several keys, and the small holoimage of the masked and cloaked Dark Lord of the Sith appeared.

"The Rebel interlopers have been eliminated as you commanded, Master."

"Good. Now, return to my ship for your next assignment."

"My lord," the Dark Apprentice interrupted. "I have other news. Our spies have traced Starkiller's trajectory. It appears he is indeed headed to Mandalore."

Darth Vader fell silent. "… as I thought. He is stationed on Mandalore."

"He?"

"The one who attacked us on Onderon. The so-called 'Master.' And just as I predicted, Starkiller has led me right to his base of operations."

"What will you have me do, Master?"

"As I commanded - return to my ship."

The Dark Apprentice shook his head. "With all due respect, my Lord, why can I not follow him to Mandalore? Now would be the ideal time to strike. I can kill both Starkiller and the Master. Two of our greatest enemies destroyed in one glorious day!"

Vader would have none of it. "No. You will not harm either of them. I have greater plans for this Master. All I need is the confirmation of what I seek. Starkiller will provide that to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I have no need to explain myself to you. Do not forget your place, apprentice."

The Dark Apprentice tightened his grip on the ship's controls. "My Lord, with all due respect, if Starkiller is going there, he will join this Master. Together, they may be more powerful than us! It would be prudent –"

"No. You are to return to me. Immediately."

The Dark Apprentice was losing his temper. "How long, My Lord? How long until I can truly test my powers? You told me I was greater than the original Starkiller! Greater than this clone! But now you wish to curb my powers?"

The Dark Lord curled his fingers into a fist, and the Dark Apprentice's hands flew to his throat.

"Do not test me, clone. Never forget I was the one who created you. I perfected the cloning process. You and he may have been the first successful clones I created, but by no means think that you can be the last."

The Dark Apprentice narrowed his eyes, his anger rising. Surging with dark side power, he reached out his hand, crunching his fingers together into a fist. Gathering his energy, he punched his first forward.

Across the galaxy, Vader was pushed several feet back. The Dark Lord maintained his balance, not falling to the ground. But his hold on his apprentice was released.

The Dark Apprentice, free from the grip, pounded his fist on the dashboard. "You will not replace me! And you will not stop me from fulfilling my destiny! I cannot … I will not live as long as that other clone survives! I'm going to Mandalore, and if you try to stop me, I will kill you!"

Vader raised a fist. "You will regret this insubordination, clone!"

The Dark Apprentice shook his head. "It's time I became my own Master. And once I deal with Starkller and the Master, I'm coming for you Vader! I swear it!"

He deactivated the transmission, then veered off away from the Star Destroyers. He entered the coordinates for Mandalore … and then his interceptor jumped to lightspeed.

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Meanwhile, the Rebel cruiser had been completely reduced to flak and slag, the debris floating gracefully in the blackness of space.

And there, floating among the wreckage as a silent grave market, a stuffed Wookie with a purple ribbon floated forever.

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"How long do you think she has?" Starkiller asked.

He, Pooja, Kota and Zarbina were in the Rogue Shadow's medbay surrounding a medical cot. Juno lay on the cot, unconscious. She was on life support. Her face had grown exceptionally pale and purple translucent veins were visible under skin. Worse … it appeared that the Force virus was spreading from her chest, up her neck and down her arms.

Kota held up the midichlorian scanner, showing it to Zarbina. The old woman solemnly looked over to Kota. "The virus is consuming her midichlorians at an accelerated rate. I'd say a week at most … maybe two if she's lucky."

Starkiller flipped over a table. "Can't you do anything?!"

"Zarbina and I have worked together through the Force, trying to slow the spread of this virus," Kota replied. "We've done all we can, but this is beyond our ability to treat!"

"What about this whole journey?" Pooja asked. "Why are we stopping at Mandalore?"

Zarbina perked up. "We're going to Mandalore?"

Starkiller averted his gaze. "I … uh … discovered something. There may be a means to save Juno on Mandalore."

"Really?" Pooja asked. "Like what?"

The Jedi clone shook his head. "I … I can't say. Look, when I get there, I need to go down alone. Everyone stay with the ship."

"What?" Kota asked. "You crazy kid? You been hittin' the juma juice when I wasn't looking? The Mandalorians have no love for the Jedi. You go down there lightsabers blazing, you're asking to get gunned down where you stand!"

"No," Starkiller replied. "The Mandalorians won't harm me. But I need you to trust me, Kota."

"Ah, boy, I trust you plenty." Kota placed his hand on Starkiller's shoulder. "And I can sense your resolve in this matter." He jammed his finger in Starkiller's chest. "But if things get ugly, I'm coming in and hauling your butt out myself, got it?!"

"Thanks, General"

Kota grumbled. "Come on, Pooja. Let's play some more sabaac. You already cleaned me out, but I think I got a couple bottles of old ale I can bet."

Pooja began following the old Jedi out of the medbay. She stopped and put her hand on Starkiller's shoulder. "We all trust you," she said. "But I would hope you would trust us enough to tell us the truth. What's waiting on Mandalore?"

Starkiller lowered his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

She stood there, watching him. Silence. "Fine." She whirled around and followed Kota out.

Zarbina didn't move. "I know why you're going to Mandalore."

Starkiller perked up. "You do?"

"My old Master is waiting for you there. Don't look so surprised, I sensed everything that happened on Tatooine from this ship. You must allow me to come with you. Together, we can destroy him for good!"

Starkiller didn't respond.

Zarbina narrowed her eyes and walked around Juno's cot. "… you intend to destroy him, don't you?"

Silence.

The old woman snorted. "So … you think he can help you?! You want him to save Captain Eclipse? He may be able to do that, but he doesn't work for free. No, anything he does comes with a price tag."

"Price tag?"

"I'm an old woman. My sister and I once desired his aid. Well, my sister sought power. I … I wanted my daughter back."

"Back?"

Zarbina wiped her eyes as she sat down next to Starkller. "My daughter was snatched from me as an infant … by the Jedi. They took her from me, wouldn't listen to my protests. She became a Jedi Knight and fought in the Clone Wars. I selfishly wanted her back. The Master promised me the power to break the Jedi and set her free. But the price tag was only more slavery. He wanted my daughter for himself."

"Why?"

"Breeding, I suppose. The Master was working with various Force users, hoping to breed the perfect warrior. He trained me, and my orders in return were to find my daughter and bring her to him."

"Did you find her?"

"I did."

"And?"

The old woman dabbed her eyes. "She sensed the Dark Side in me. She tried to redeem me, persuade me to join her … so I did. And the Master punished me for my treachery."

"How?"

"My sister had also joined him. And her price tag … was to punish me. No," she added quickly, "not me physically. She punished me by going after my daughter. My own daughter, who I hadn't seen since she was an infant. My sister hired a team of mercenaries who struck from the shadows … and that was the end of my daughter."

"And that's why you exiled yourself to Onderon? You blame yourself?"

Zarbina nodded. "You must not fall to my Master's temptations. And he will tempt you. You must not falter. You must destroy him for good, before his power grows beyond what we can hope to stop. As long as he lives, he is a threat to all living things! A greater threat perhaps, than Vader and the Emperor."

Starkiller nodded. "I will heed what you said. I will stop him, I promise. And in the process, I will make him help me!"

"I will not tell the others your true purpose in going to Mandalore. But I would have hoped that following Anakin Skywalker's life story would have taught you a few lessons. Please, take to heart what I have said. Do not share in Anakin Skywalker's fate."

As she swept past him, Starkiller sensed that the fate she meant was more than simply death.

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"There she is," Wedge commented from the cockpit of The Rogue Shadow. Starkiller sidled into a seat next to him. Kota stood behind them, arms folded.

"There's a high concentration of Imperial forces here," Starkiller said.

Kota nodded. "The Empire took control during the Clone Wars. Couple nasty battles here. Savage Oppress met his end here."

"Who?" Wedge asked.

Kota shrugged. "Zabrak. Pointy horns. Nasty disposition."

Starkiller gazed pensively at the planet. Why would the Master set up base on Mandalore if the Empire had a strong presence here?

"Uh guys, we're getting a transmission," Wedge said.

"Patch it through," Starkiller ordered.

A holoimage of a Bith appeared. Starkiller grit his teeth. It was the Bith he met on Tatooine.

"Ah, Captain," the Bith gushed. "I knew you would come. We are indeed glad you are here. There is much to discuss. But first, we can't have those nasty Imperials detecting your ship." The Bith punched a few buttons on a device on his wrist. "I trust you still have the Twilek slicer as part of your crew?"

Starkiller nodded. "Kaden."

"Good. I sent you a new ID signature which will transpond an Imperial code. Stay out of range of their sensors until your slicer changes your ship's ID signature. Then come to our headquarters. We have much to discuss."

Kota gripped the back of Starkiller's seat. "This all seems shady kid. I really hope you know what you're doing."

Starkiller nodded. "So do I, Kota. So do I."

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The surface of Mandalore was covered with dome-shaped buildings and homes. Much of the planet's surface had been rendered inhospitable. The Bith had sent them coordinates to one of Mandalore's major cities – Sundari. The entire city was covered by a large dome. Inside, the dome was littered with many high-rise buildings. The Bith's coordinates took them to landing pad on a typical high-rise, which blended in with the many other buildings in the city.

The Rogue Shadow hovered over a landing platform, and Starkiller jumped off. He turned to Kota, who stood on the ship's entry ramp. "Get the ship out of the city," Starkiller said. "But stay in the planet's orbit in case we need a quick getaway."

"We always need a quick getaway," Kota quipped. He backed up onto the ship and Starkiller watched it disappear among Sundari's many buildings.

The young Jedi turned, and saw the Bith waiting patiently for him on the landing platform.

"Welcome, Starkiller. Welcome. My Master will be pleased to have you as his esteemed guest." He gestured to the building's entrance. "We didn't allow ourselves properintroduction on Tatooine. For now, you may call me 'Vis'. Allow me to give you a tour of our operations."

Starkiller nodded, following the Bith into the building. "I don't get it," Starkiller said as they entered the tall entryway. "Your Master is fighting against the Empire … why set up base in one of their strongholds?"

"What better place to strike from, than under an enemies' nose?"

"Where you can blend in," Starkiller nodded.

"Quite right. Rest assured, we are quite safe from the Empire's gaze here. As long as their gaze remains outward … at the Rebellion."

They entered a training room, and Starkiller noticed dozens of Mandalorians sparring.

"Are all of the Mandalorians on your side?"

"Oh heavens no," the Bith replied. "Most are quite unaware of our existence among them. We have only revealed ourselves to a few … select … clans. Those that would be sympathetic to our cause against the Empire. Such as the Death Watch."

"I met a Mandalorian on Tatooine."

"Yes, the great Boba Fett."

"He said that years ago, the Death Watch united under a Sith Lord?"

"During the Clone Wars, yes. Lord Maul governed them. Promised to lead them to victory. But now, things are different. After the Clone Wars, Mandalore became an Imperial stronghold. But there are those still loyal to Lord Maul and his ideals."

"So he is still alive?"

Vis didn't answer.

"Is Darth Maul the Master?"

"His true identity isn't important yet. What is important is all that he has accomplished."

They came to a door guarded by two Mandalorians. They stepped aside as Vis entered a passcode. "Let me show you some of what we have accomplished." The doors slid open to reveal a turbolift. The Bith gestured politely. "This way please."

The turbolift shot down story after story. Starkiller began getting impatient. "Where are we going?"

"I'd like to show you the lab."

The turbolift jolted to a stop, and the doors parted. The Bith exited and Starkiller followed.

They were on a large walking platform, overlooking a grand lab, several stories tall. Below, Mandalorians and various other species and droids pored over data, developing weapons.

"This is it?" Starkiller asked. "You're developing new weapons, so what?"

"So impatient. This is only a portion of the lab. Please, follow me."

The walked on the ramp to the other side of vaulted room. There was a sealed door. The Bith once again entered a code, and the two were now on the ground level of a room that seemed to reach up several stories.

And all around were tanks filled with blue, and yellow and green fluids.

And inside the tanks, Starkiller could make out bodies. Bodies of various different species.

Clones?

The Bith seemed to read his mind. "In a manner of speaking. Yes, for all intents and purposes – clones."

"You're creating a clone army?"

"No, we don't have the resources of the Kaminoans to breed a full army. But why would we need to, when we can create a single warrior with the power of an entire army himself?" The Bith stopped at a particular tank, folding his arms.

"So you're creating super-soldiers?" Starkiller asked.

"No," the Bith replied. "We are becoming super soldiers."

"I don't understand."

"Remember what I told you on Tatooine. Midichlorians can be manipulated. They can be stolen from a Force user, and their Force potential can be added to your own." The Bith gestured at a tube filled with purple fluid. "Take a look inside."

Starkiller stepped up to the tube. Inside, floating in the fluid, was a Bith. It looked just like a twin of Vis. Starkiller peered closely … and the twin Bith opened its eyes. Starkiller backed away.

"I have lived and died many times over, young Starkiller. As have many of us disciples here. As has my Master."

"Why are you cloning yourselves?"

"Do you believe I am a clone?" Vis asked.

Starkiller was perplexed. "Aren't you?"

"I have lived and died many times. In a manner of speaking, yet. But I am so much more.. This fellow in the tube, on the other hand … I donated my own genetic material for his template. An identical clone of myself. Not the first. And not the last."

"I don't understand Why are you cloning yourselves?"

"Remember what I have told you. Midichlorians can be absorbed from others! Watch."

Vis held out a gauntleted hand. The clone in the tube began writhing in unspoken agony. It opened its mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Vis closed his eyes and clenched his fist. Starkiller watched as the Bith clone's skin, tissue organs and bones dissolved into dust.

Vis opened his eyes and exhaled in extreme gratification. "Yes, I can already feel my power growing tenfold." He turned to Starkiller. "It was thought to be impossible to clone a Force user. You are proof that it is not. My Master has also discovered the secret. And so we breed clones of Force users. When their powers mature, we simply take their power for our own. We absorb and integrate the midichlorians of our own clones. Imagine, Starkiller, an infinite supply of pure energy. Our powers will grow infinitely. There will be no limit to what we can accomplish with the Force!"

Starkiller looked revolted. "This … this is sick!"

"Your concern is understandable. We admit that the ethics are … questionable. And not all clones end up successful. Sometimes there are hiccups. Defects in the process, creating what we call … abominations."

He pointed to another tube. Starkiller gasped. There was another Bith clone of Vis … but this one looked like a monster. It hung there, its mouth slack … but its head was completely disfigured, its eyes and skull completely lopsided.

"Remember … it is difficult to clone a Force user. Sometimes abominations occur."

"And what becomes of them?"

"They retain their Force abilities … they can live, for decades even. But they have no memories of their prior lives. They can have false memories implanted … we've experimented with that as well. But their genetic material is ill-advised to absorb. We simply allow them to die."

"No," Starkiller shook his head. "This isn't right! You're playing gods!"

"Is that really any different than what you're attempting to do with Captain Eclipse?"

Starkiller's mouth hung open.

"Yes, the Master and I know why you are here," Vis leered. "We don't just take life, we give it! In the same way that midichlorians can be taken from one host to another, they can be given! Think of the healing capabilities! We could change the future of galactic medicine! Eternal life for all! Is that really so wrong? Do the ends not justify the means?"

Starkiller didn't quite know what to say. Finally … "Can your master help me save Juno?"

Vis clapped Starkiller across the back. "Perhaps. But first … you must prove yourself worthy."

Starkiller's hands went to his weapons as four armed Mandalorians surrounded him.

"No need for concern," Vis said at once. "They will not harm you. They are here to take you to the fighting pit."

"Fighting pits?"

"You must prove yourself worthy. The Master will reveal himself to you if you can win in the fighting pit!"

A smirk crossed Starkiller's face. "Fine. If your 'Master' wants a giant crater for a palace, then I'll play along."

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Half an hour later, Starkiller found himself in the Mandalorian fighting pit. Strewn bones, blood and various broken weapons littered the arena. Three other fighters were pushed into the pit with him – a Devaronian with a jagged dagger, a tall warrior in red armor and a helmet carrying two cortosis battle axes, and finally a Rodian with a vibroblade.

The Mandalorians had confiscated his lightsabers, providing him with two cortosis-weave virbroblades so as to even the odds.

Surrounding the fighting pit, on a circular loft, were various spectators including dozens of Mandalorian soldiers, as well as robed disciples of various species. There was a black throne elevated above the other spectators, which Starkiller assumed was for The Master. Vis took a seat next to the vacant throne as more spectators filed in.

Before Starkiller could say another word, Vis and the rest of the spectators stood up as a man in a black hood and cloak entered. Starkiller recognized him immediately. The Master.

The Master took his seat on the black throne. When he spoke, his voice rung through the arena. "Three of you are here for crimes of high treason. The sentence for which – is death. However, as a benevolent ruler, I will show mercy to the one who lands the killing blow on our young guest."

Starkiller spun around as his three opponents began circling him. The Devaronian licked his jabbed blade. The tall entity in red armor twirled his battle axes. The Rodian took a battle pose with his vibrosword.

Starkiller looked up at the Master. "A fight to the death? Really?"

The Master raised a hand. "As a 'Jedi' I would think you should have no problems defeating them. And as for your … ethical concerns … these men are bloodthirsty killers who have each murdered their own superiors in cold blood. Shall justice not be meted out?"

Starkiller sized up his three opponents. Indeed, they all looked equally ready for blood.

"Oh, one final thing," the Master added. "No Force powers. Let's at least give them a fighting chance."

And with that, the Devaronian charged, swiping at Starkiller with his knife. The young Jedi bent backwards, the knife slicing off a piece of his tunic. Behind him, the red-armored foe cleaved his two axes down. Starkiller rolled out of the way, finding himself face-to-face with the Rodian, who thrusted his vibroblade towards his gut.

Starkiller twisted to the left, whirling around to face his foes who were now spreading out around him.

Cheers came from the crowd.

The Rodian and Devaronian both charged, swiping ferociously with their weapons. Starkiller deftly leaped to the left and to the right, evading their blows.

"Gah!" The young Jedi cried out in pain. The Devaronian had landed a lucky blow and Starkiller's sleeve above his forearm blossomed red.

The tall, red-armored warrior casually strode over to a cord hanging above the fighting pit. With a deft CLANG, he sliced through the cord with his axe.

Starkiller looked up to see a heavy crane from above plunging right down upon him. He rolled out of the way.

The Rodian was not so lucky. With a quick "meep" he was instantly crushed under its weight.

More cheers from the crowd.

"Good!" The Master exclaimed. "Use the environment against your enemies!"

Starkiller twirled his vibroswords as he, the Devaronian, and the red-armored axman circled each other again.

Use the environment, he thought. Not a bad idea.

He quickly surveyed his surroundings and there – above the fighting pit entrance was a power grid. He took aim and with a swift throw of his arm, he hurled one of his vibroswords across the arena, impaling the grid. The grid short-circuited.

There were screams among the crowd as the lights flickered and went out.

The emergency generators instantly restored power, leaving the arena bathed in an orange light.

This was the distraction Starkiller needed.

He leaped into the air and delivered a devastating kick to the Devaronian's head. Cursing, the alien lashed out with his knife. Starkiller somersaulted over his head, landing behind him, slicing up his foe's back.

The Deveranian screamed and whirled around in a rage. Starkiller punched him in the gut, then across the face, sending him flying across the arena. The horned alien cursed violently and rose to his feet, only to have the axman cleave his head clean off his shoulders!

Starkiller gulped. The axman wanted him all for himself. The young Jedi twirled his vibrosword, daring the axman to make the next move.

And he did.

He charged Starkiller with a speed that took the young Jedi by surprise. Regathering his wits, he ducked as the axman crossed both axes, narrowly missing his head. The axman suddenly dipped down, and Starkiller's feet were taken out from under him.

The axman brought both axes down to bear with incredible force. Starkiller rolled out of the way. The axman's height, however, provided him a longer reach than a typical foe. Starkiller continued to roll, narrowly dodging each cleave of an ax.

Starkiller sprang to his feet, and in an instant the axman was on him. Starkiller slashed has his mid-section and the axman turned his attack aside with one of his axes. The red-armored foe then brought the flat, blunt end of an ax down on Starkiller's arm like an anvil. Starkiller screamed in pain and his vibrosword flew across the arena. He reached his hand out for it.

"Remember," the Master's voice rang out. "No Force powers!"

Starkiller grunted, then grabbed both ax handles, wrestling the axman for control over the weapons. The axman was too tall, and physical very powerful. Starkiller was forced to his knees and the edges of the axes drew ever closer to his neck.

What would Kota do in this situation?, he thought.

He reacted on pure instinct and head-butted the axman.

The axman's helmet was hard as rock, and Starkiller screamed as blood ran down his own head. But he sensed it, for just a second … the axman's grip loosened.

That was all Starkiller needed. He twisted the handle of one of the axman's weapons, wrenching it out of his grip. Starkiller then brought the blunt, flat end of the ax to bear on the axman's arm, crushing it with the flat, blunt side.

The axman screamed, dropping his other axe, falling to his knees.

"Finish him!" The Master cried.

Starkiller looked down at his foe on his knees, his head level with him. Starkiller placed the blade of the ax against the axman's head. The axman looked at him from behind his red helmet. "What are you waiting for, boy? Do it!"

And Starkiller swung.

But not to kill.

He hit the axman across the head with the flat, blunt end of the axe, putting a dent into the red helmet, and knocking the axman out cold.

Starkiler tossed the ax aside and stood up, facing the Master. "No more bloodshed. You told me on Onderon that you didn't follow the Dark Side! But you would have me kill a helpless prisoner in cold blood? You're no better than the Emperor you claim to fight against!"

The Master sat there, silently.

Starkiller held his arms out. "Well? Have I passed your little test? Will you finally reveal yourself to me?"

The Master looked down at Vis. "He has proved himself, Master," the Bith said.

The Master nodded, before throwing back his hood. Starkiller's mouth hung agape. It couldn't be … "Maris?"

Maris Brood sat there on the Master's throne, a smirk on her face. She held out her hand and Vis took it in his own, kissing it. "My love," the Bith said. "How I have missed you."

Starkiller's confusion grew by the minute. "… what is going on?"

"Wow, this really takes us back to Cloud City, doesn't it?" Maris gloated. "Reynor's fighting pits. You've come a long way since then. But then, so have I. And I have new allies." She stroked Vis' head lovingly. "Told you I had a boyfriend. And Vis' data has been good so far. His data has helped you greatly along your quest, hasn't it?"

This was making no sense. "I don't understand!" Starkiller called out. "How can you be the Master? You're not even old enough!"

Maris, Vis and the entire audience broke out in calm chuckles, enjoying the young clone's bewilderment.

"Oh, I have been the Master. Or, I should say, playing the part." Maris grinned. "You're not getting it yet?"

"Playing … a part?"

Maris cracked her knuckles. "Come on, Starkiller. You didn't think the real Master would be fool enough to gallivant around the galaxy in a hood and robe directly giving orders, potentially giving his position and identity away, did you? No, he worked through a puppet. Had me play his role, pretend to be him. That was me on Onderon, by the way, under that hood. You were completely sold. Am I a good actress or not?"

"Is there even a Master?" Starkiller asked.

"Oh, rest assured, he is real."

Starkiller's temper was flaring. "Enough of these games! If you aren't the Master, then who is?!"

"I am!" In an instant, the axman sprang to life behind Starkiller, crossing both of his axes across the young Jedi's throat from behind. "And you have impressed me greatly!"

Maris, Vis, and the entire audience bowed before the axman. "It is a pleasure to see you again, my Lord," Maris said.

"It is a pleasure to be here," the axman – the real Master – said. "To once again join my disciples in the land of the living!"

"Yes," Vis agreed. "Returning from the land of the death to the realm of the living is always a sincere pleasure." Vis looked down at Starkiller. "It's time you know our true identities. I told you I have died before. And in my previous life, Vis was not my name. It was Venamis. Darth Venamis."

The Master tightened his grip on his axes, his voice ringing deep into Starkiller's ears. "And I … I was once known as Darth Plagueis!"

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