Another Clone

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. This is merely a fanfiction. I gain no income from this story.

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A planet, seething with the primal energies of the universe, an eternal wellspring of the living Force.

A temple. Two thrones.

Light and Dark.

And three figures. A Father. A Daughter. And … a Son.

There was screaming, a young Jedi on his hands and knees crying out in pain before the feet of the Son.

And there was something else. Two figures. Facing each other. They were identical in the Force. Blue and red blades clashed, lightning exploded, and the planet itself shook under the weight of their battle …

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"Gah!"

Darth Vader was on his hands and knees in a pressurized room in the Mandalorian base, which had been built exclusively for him to breathe without the use of machinery. His helmet and mask lay aside as his burned and pale cranium arced upwards in pain.

Plagueis stood over him, folding his arms. "There now … you reacted much better to the mind probe this time. We saw Mortis … its past, its present … and its future …"

Vader narrowed his yellow eyes. "Those memories …"

"As I said, memories cannot be fully erased. There will always be echoes, etched into the neurons of the brain. Our task is to fully extract them … which we would have an easier time if you wouldn't be so resistant to the mind probe!"

Vader glowered at the Muun. "Perhaps if your methods were not so crude …"

"Or perhaps you do not wish to revisit Anakin Skywalker's memories?"

There was a moment's silence. Plagueis smiled. Yes, that was it. Vader's lack of response indicated he had touched a nerve. "I understand there is much pain in your past … I would think a Sith Lord would embrace such pain, use it, not shrink from it."

"My life is pain," Vader snarled. "I am the living embodiment of it."

"Then if it is not the pain you fear … then perhaps you're afraid that your memories will reawaken Anakin Skywalker?"

Vader clenched his fist. "Anakin Skywalker is dead. I killed him myself."

"Indeed? Then let us try the probe again."

Vader stood up. "No. I have had enough for today." He motioned for a nearby droid which carried his mask and helmet and refitted it. The mask sealed on his burned face, and the mechanical breathing resumed.

Plagueis did not stop Vader from leaving the chambers. Perhaps a different form of persuasion would work – one that would finally get past the mental blocks Vader had put in place so long ago …

It was time to bring Vader face to face with his past in a more … concrete way.

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Vader emerged from the chamber to find the Dark Apprentice leaning against a wall, arms folded. Vader swept his way past him. "I have no time nor desire to speak with you."

The Dark Apprentice swaggered alongside him. "I've already doubled my powers, Vader. I'm more than a match for you now."

"We all have our delusions. But I sense you did not come here to boast of your newfound bravado."

The Dark Apprentice nodded grimly. "The Force virus you had me use on Captain Eclipse … you had a cure the whole time?"

"The cure was destroyed on Mustafar."

"I don't buy it. You're not stupid enough to have made only one dose. What if I had mishandled the virus on Dantooine and infected us?"

"Why this sudden concern over the virus?" Vader growled. He stopped, before turning to the Dark Apprentice. "Captain Eclipse … you wish to cure her?"

"No," the Dark Apprentice retorted, wiping all emotion off his face. "I was just worried the virus might be contagious or something, that's all …"

Vader stared behind his helmet. "Your thoughts betray you. Yes, now I sense it. Your feelings for her are growing. Perhaps youare the one who has not yet come to terms with the past."

"Is there a second dose?" the Dark Apprentice demanded.

Vader flicked a switch on his utility belt and a small compartment opened up. He withdrew a smile orange vial which he held aloft between two gloved fingers. "Of course I made a backup dose. Not that it will benefit Captain Eclipse. The other clone is still out there. He may no longer have a connection to the Force, but he remains a threat. Captain Eclipse will remain here to waste away to death … a final piece of leverage against him. And Lord Plagueis absolutely forbids any interference in that plan." Without another word, Vader placed the cure back into his utility belt, snapping the compartment shut.

The Dark Apprentice wiped any emotion from his face. "Understood. It will be a pleasure watching her die. After all – it was you who taught me to hate what the original Starkiller once loved …"

And he strode right past the Dark Lord.

Vader turned his head and watched him. Perhaps he had not so effectively killed the original Galen Marek as he had thought.

And another voice echoed in the back of his skull. "Perhaps you have not so effectively killed your old self either."

The Dark Lord shook his head, perishing the thought.

~0~

~0~

~0~

The Rebel fleet was amassing in the Outer Rim as The Rogue Shadow jerked out of lightspeed. Wedge angled the controls and grinned as he flew towards the flotilla of Mon Calamari cruisers, Correllian Corvettes and other ships the Rebellion had retrofitted for military service. Wedge whooped as a small squadron of Y-Wing and X-Wing fighters gave them an honor escort to Home One. "How I've missed the fleet …"

Kaden folded his arms. "I was a simple guy, making an honest living slicing databases and pulling heists. How you've made a Rebel out of me …"

"They'll be wondering where Starkiller is," Wedge sighed. Next to him, PROXY's eyes seemed to dim.

"Hey, he abandoned us … again!" Kaden snorted. "After all the times I saved his rear …"

"I distinctly remember you screaming like a helpless girl while he dove in and saved all our hides," Wedge chortled.

"Yeah, well, now that he's left us – I repeat – again – "

Wedge violently shushed him. Pooja had entered the cockpit, followed by Zarbina. Kaden played it cool, like he hadn't just been talking about Starkiller. Pooja rolled her eyes. "You guys don't have to stop talking every time I enter a room. Yes. I know he's gone. I'm the one who told you guys he jumped ship, remember?"

Kaden bit his lip.

Zarbina stared through the cockpit window. "The Force works as it will. He had his reasons."

Pooja just continued to stare through the viewscreen.

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The Rogue Shadow was placed in dry dock aboard Home One. The crew descended the exit ramp into a hangar, surrounded by Alliance fighters. Pooja and Kaden raised an eyebrow as Wedge was suddenly surrounded by a group of Alliance pilots. Wedge was overjoyed.

"It's great to be back, fellas! Porkins, you lost weight!"

"You back for good, Antilles?" Garven Dreis – Red Leader – clapped him on the shoulder.

Wedge bit his lip. He stared back at his new comrades, Pooja, Zarbina, Kaden and PROXY. But Starkiller … Starkiller was gone. Wedge looked back up at Red Leader. "Yeah … yeah I think I might be … I think my mission is complete."

Red Leader grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Can't let Porkins here overtake your TIE fighter score." Wedge gave Pooja a sorrowful sigh, before he let himself be practically carried off the flight deck by Red Squadron.

Pooja sighed as she carted her luggage down the flight deck, Zarbina and PROXY right behind her and Kaden tailing, looking unsure of what to do with himself. A Rebel officer saluted. "Senator Naberrie … Madame Mothma wishes for your presence. She and the others wish to debrief you."

Pooja nodded, motioning for Kaden, PROXY and Zarbina to follow.

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Mon Mothma sat the head of a long conference table, Senator Bail Organa at her side. Garm Bel Iblis refused to sit, but paced impatiently.

"Starkiller leaving us is another blow to the cause," Bail lamented. "He was a symbol that rallied many to the Alliance. Without him – without a Jedi to rally around – the Alliance may fall apart."

"It may best," Bel Iblis grunted. "The boy was a loose cannon. He took one of our best pilots and Senator Naberrie to galivant around the galaxy on wild gundark chase and for what? Now we have a war on two fronts – the Empire and this Plagueis and his Mandalorians."

"Not to mention the two wild cards left – Darth Vader and the Dark Apprentice."

Pooja sighed. "It wasn't a wild gundark chase. We uncovered the Master's identity as Darth Plagueis. We know his plans. Look, you have to listen to us. With each second, Plagueis comes closer and closer to discovering the location of Mortis. You have to rally the fleet! We can stop him before he ever sets foot on the planet!"

Bel Iblis snorted. "Not this again."

"With all due respect," Mothma replied, "You have yet to share a single shred of credible evidence other than dreams. I'm afraid the Alliance will need more than that before we commit much needed ships – and soldiers – to finding a wayward planet."

Next to her, Bail shifted uncomfortably.

Bel Iblis folded his arms. "We cannot afford distractions. The priority is the Empire and the Death Star. We cannot – I will not – follow a fantasy!"

Zarbina slammed her hands on the table and stood up. "Was Kota's death a fantasy?! I served under the Master – under Plagueis – for years! I helped save Onderon from a Mandalorian invasion! Senator Naberrie and the others would be dead without my intervention?! Does my word mean nothing?!"

Mon Mothma stood up. "We will reconvene and discuss things when … tempers … are less flared. For now, The Rogue Shadow is grounded. Senator Naberrie, it would be prudent to remain with the Alliance fleet for the time being. The Empire is tightening the noose on Naboo. Your family is under constant surveillance. It would not be wise to return there. It would be a death sentence."

"Is my family - ?"

"They are safe for the moment," Mothma assuaged. "Come Garm … we must discuss the Alliance's next move …" She got up and bowed, before gliding out of the room.

Bail Organa stood up. "Senator Naberrie – a moment if you please. We should discuss things in private." His eyes fell on Zarbina, PROXY and Kaden. "And … perhaps your new friends should join us as well …"

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Bail Organa sat in his private quarters on Home One as Pooja and the others joined him. "I really must apologize," he was saying. "I cannot stay with the Rebel Fleet too long. I must return to Alderaan at once … but, something has come to my attention that cannot be ignored."

"What is it, Senator Organa?" Pooja asked.

"Before we get to that," he replied. "Do you really believe Mortis exists?"

"I believe in Starkiller," Pooja answered. "So yes."

"Indeed, it does exist," Zarbina said. "My old master has long sought for its location."

Bail steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair. "Let's say I believe you … a small portion of the Alliance ships are under mycommand. I am willing to commit my share of the Alliance fleet to a campaign on Mortis … though the others may take some convincing."

"What changed your mind?" Pooja asked.

"An old friend has … defected," Bail answered softly.

Behind them, a door opened, and they all watched in amazement as Maris Brood entered the chamber.

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Pooja was indignant. "YOU!"

Maris rolled her eyes. "Good to see you too."

Bail made a placating motion to Pooja. "Maris has left Plagueis' cause. She came to me only days ago. With a treasure trove of information."

"We can't trust her!" Kaden snapped.

"I agree," Pooja said. "She could be a spy!"

"Thanks for the votes of confidence, guys," Maris sighed.

"I had my own reservations," Bail admitted. "Especially after she trapped me on Felucia with a giant rancor."

Maris rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "How many times do I have to apologize for that?"

"But I trust her," Bail continued. "She left the Master – at great risk to herself – and … great personal loss …"

Zarbina seemed to sense the sorrow in the young woman. "Vis … Vis is gone … I am deeply sorry."

Maris nodded. "He gave his life for me … so I could escape … I contacted Senator Organa right away …"

"And she has been a treasure trove of information," Bail said. "Though Mon Mothma and Bel Iblis remain highly skeptical, as you all saw. But I believe she is telling the truth. She confirmed your story. Plagueis is seeking Mortis and is using Vader to do so."

"Why are you so quick to believe her," Pooja asked. "When the others can't be persuaded?"

Bail spared a sharp glance out a window. "Let's just say … I've had a lot of experience with Jedi in the past. In any event, Mortis must be a priority."

"But the others won't listen," Kaden said.

"Then we must make them listen," Bail answered. "We must find the location of Mortis, show them that it exists. And there is something else … you guys should not have let Starkiller leave."

"It was his choice," Pooja snapped, though there was regret in her voice. "He had been absolutely destroyed – physical and emotionally – on Kamino. How could I not let him go?"

"Because now that he's alone, we all may be in greater danger than ever!" Maris snapped.

There was silence.

"How?" Pooja asked, eyes narrowed.

Maris gripped the back of a chair. Her face was filled with fear. "Because … when I served Plagueis, when we were experimenting with cloning … we discovered something …"

"What?" Pooja demanded.

"There was only one successful clone of Starkiller, that much is true," Maris said. "And we've created armies of Jedi clones, stole their midichlorians to power ourselves up as you all saw. But where do you think we got such technology?"

"The Emperor," Zarbina breathed. "When I served Plagueis, his spies had stolen data from Kamino."

"Plagueis and Vader aren't the only ones running around cloning Jedi," Maris said. "The Emperor has other cloning facilities, besides Kamino. Such as Byss. And other dark worlds … other legendary worlds like Mortis … the old throne world of the Sith … Exegol."

Zarbina pursed her lips, her arms shivering. She nodded. "Plagueis knew of this. He discovered that Palpatine was making clones of himself. But Palpatine had to be sure the cloning process of a Force user could be successful before he attempted it on himself. He experimented, using tissue from a dead Jedi Master …"

"The process of cloning a Force user isn't perfect," Maris said. "That's why most of Plagueis' clones became abominations – unthinking, distorted monsters. But the experimental Jedi clone Palpatine created … he was perfect in almost every way. Except he was …"

"… insane," Zarbina finished.

"According to Plagueis' data, the Emperor himself struggled to control this clone. And now … this clone has escaped from the Imperial facilities."

"No." Zarbina shook her head. "He did not escape. He was set loose by the Emperor."

Maris stared at them. "This clone … doesn't believe he's a clone. He plans to find other Force users, create a Jedi theocracy. And you can be darn sure the Emperor leaked data about Starkiller to him …"

Pooja's eyes widened. "This clone … you think he'll go after Starkiller then?"

"I'd be surprised if he didn't already triangulate Starkiller's position … he'll try to sway Starkiller to his insane cause … with the promise of restoring his Force powers …"

Bail folded his arms. "As you can see, the situation is more dire than we realized. The Emperor and Plagueis were bad enough. But now an insane clone of a Jedi Master … I fear this may truly be the end of the Alliance and of the Jedi. The final darkness has shrouded the galaxy."

Pooja cursed. "I should never have let him go …"

As they filed out of Bail's quarters, Pooja stopped. "Maris … just tell me how bad the situation is? This new clone … who was the Jedi Master he was created from?"

Maris sighed. "Master C'Baoth."

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Pooja stood in an isolated corridor of Home One. She punched the wall in frustration, before sliding down, holding her face in her hands. I was such a fool … I shouldn't have let him go. I should have fought harder for him …

Her mind went back to the kiss from the other day. He had been surprised, sure. But then … he had kissed her back too. So what did that mean? And what about Juno? Pooja had grown close to the Captain during their journeys. It felt like a betrayal and it wasn't fair to drop her feelings for Starkiller on him like that – not when he was in the midst of such emotional turmoil.

And now … now an insane Jedi clone was coming after him.

This was all her fault!

Zarbina appeared over her. "The floor is no place for a strong, proud woman." She reached down, clasped Pooja's hand and helped her to her feet.

Pooja wiped her eyes. "This is all my fault …"

"No. We all made our decisions. He made his."

"But he's in great danger -."

"He has always been in great danger," Zarbina interjected. "But you must give him credit. He is a survivor. Even without his Force powers he escaped the Emperor on Kamino. He has a knack for escaping dangerous situations and my feelings tell me the Force is not done with him. Not yet."

"Do you think he'll return to us?"

"Once he finds what he is looking for – once the Force shows him what he needs to see – then yes, I foresee he will. His journey is nearing its end. And I foresee that his destiny – the destiny of all of us – will be decided on Mortis." The old woman cupped her face. "You must keep your faith – in him, in the living Force."

Pooja nodded. Her instincts told her that Zarbina was right.

The endgame was close in sight.

~0~

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Moonlight shone through the thicket of trees that seemed to gnaw their way to the skies. Starkiller stood in a clearing, a small Z-95 Headhunter parked. He had "borrowed" it from a drunk pilot at a spaceport. Whether he would ever find the pilot again to return it was another story.

Starkiller fumbled with a blaster, holstering it at his leg. A vibroblade was sheathed along his thigh. He wasn't used to such weapons, but now that the Force had been driven from him, he would have to resort to these uncivilized weapons.

He stared up at the sky above, before looking into the trees in the distance. Something primal was clawing his stomach, drawing him into the familiar darkness.

After all this time … he was home …

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After an hour's journey, following his instincts and the memories of the original Galen still roiling in his mind, Starkiller found another small clearing in Kashyyyk's forests. Wooden ruins lay around the wooden foundation of what was once a home.

This was Galen Marek's home once. With his father, Kento and mother, Mallie. A longing sadness gnawed at his gut as he ascended the wooden steps into the ruins of the old house. Galen Marek had a home once … parents that loved him. A father that gave his life for him, to protect him.

And Starkiller … he had been grown in a lab. His mother was a bacta tank filled with amniotic fluid, his father a man that was more machine.

As Starkiller stood in the circular remains of the house, he couldn't help but feel stirring of jealousy. That Galen Marek – even if it was for a few short years – had parents willing to risk everything for him while he only knew the cold embrace of a tube and the indifference of Darth Vader.

~0~

Kento Marek was floating in midair in this very house. Darth Vader was controlling his body like a puppet through the Force.

A small boy held a red lightsaber, pointed at the Dark Lord.

Genuine surprise issued from behind the Dark Lord's mask. "A son?"

Horror filled Kento's face. "Run!" he screamed.

With a simple motion, as though he were pulling a simple lever, Vader snapped Kento Marek's neck. The Jedi Knight crumpled to the floor like so much deadweight.

And Vader towered over a small, terrified boy …

~0~

Starkiller held a hand up to his eyes, his vision swimming. More memories … but they were not his own. They belonged to another man.

Galen Marek had been another man's father.

But then … Starkiller was a clone of Galen. He shared the same DNA. Did that not make Kento Marek his father too?

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. In an instant, his blaster was drawn. "Show yourself!" he commanded.

A small fire burst in the middle of the ruins, shrouding the remains of the house in an orange glow. Against a crumbling wall, Starkiller could make out a shadow. A robed figure, with wild, grizzled hair.

And the shadow stepped into the firelight.

An old man in elegant Jedi-like robes, with long white hair and a beard down to his belt. The old man extended a clawed hand and Starkiller's blaster pistol was crushed into a small piece of rubble.

He's a Force user!

Starkiller tossed his now useless weapon aside and unsheathed his vibroblade. "Who are you?!"

The old man chortled. "You may put your weapons aside, boy. I mean you no harm." The old man stared up at the holes in the roof, into the stars above. "I foresaw your arrival …"

Starkiller angled his vibrosword. "Are you a Sith?"

The figure spat on the ground. "I am no Sith! I am Joruus C'Baoth – Jedi Master, the last of the Jedi."

Starkiller lowered his sword. "A … a Jedi …?"

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Joruus C'Baoth sat upon a wooden chair – one it appeared he had fashioned himself. He sat on it like a throne. Starkiller's eyes fell on the circular room. Other chairs – wooden – shaped into replicas of the chairs that once housed the Jedi Council Chambers. He was horribly reminded of the makeshift Jedi Temple that Kazdan Paratus had created on Raxus Prime. But Paratus had lost his grip on reality … was this man just as insane? Or was he the real deal?

C'Baoth drummed his fingers on his throne's armrest. Starkiller, still terribly confused, sheathed his weapon. "You foresaw my arrival?"

"I have been tracking your movements for some time. Your servitude to the Sith, Darth Plagueis, was deeply regrettable."

Starkiller lowered his head. "I thought he had reformed … I was deceived …"

"A true Jedi ferrets out deceit, bringing it to the light … and because of your arrogance, your supreme hubris, another one of our Order lies dead."

"Kota." Guilt gnawed at Starkiller's insides.

C'Baoth gestured to a Jedi Council chair at his right hand. "This seat was reserved for him. He would have been the first of the New Jedi Council. You would have served at my left hand as well."

Starkiller lowered his head. "I can't feel the Force anymore … I would be useless to you."

C'Baoth raised a finger. "Ah … but there is a way around such limitations … if you are willing. You are not the first Jedi to be cut off from the Force and such measures can be corrected. Thousands of years ago, a young Jedi named Meetra Surek became a hole in the Force, cut off in the crucible of war. Years later, she thrived again to restore her powers. Through me, you can feel the Force sing through you once again – if you are willing to do what it takes."

Starkiller stared at the old man. His thoughts lingered on Juno, barely holding on to life. And the Dark Apprentice – the real Galen – was rising in power. And powered by Mortis, he would be unstoppable. But if Starkiller could regain access to the Force -.

"What must I do?"

C'Baoth leaned forward and smiled under his moustache, his fingers steepled.

"You must be wiling to do … the things our Order could not …"

"I will become your apprentice, if you will have me …"

Joruus C'Baoth stood up and placed his hands on Starkiller's shoulders. "Very well. Your training will begin immediately … my young Padawan …"

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"All life, everywhere, is touched by the Force. Midichlorians reside in all living things … and as I am sure you learned from the Dark Lord Plagueis, they can be manipulated. Stolen and added to your own."

C'Baoth had led Starkiller deep into the forests of Kashyyyk. A kinrath stalker leaped out at them.

"Watch."

C'Baoth pointed a clawed hand at the creature. Starkiller watched, mouth open, as red energy streaked out of the kinrath's form, right into C'Baoth's fingertips. The creature screamed and shriveled into a husk.

"Creatures such as this give only a paltry level of midichlorians," the old man stated. "Not nearly enough to restore your connection to the Force." C'Baoth folded his arms into his robes. "But occasionally, one is born with a high concentration of midichlorians. One who can feel the Force. Our Order took them as infants, trained them to be great."

"Was that ethical though?" Starkiller asked. "Taking an infant from a family?"

C'Baoth snorted. "The children did not belong to the parents. They were children of the Force. They were gifts to the Jedi – they were our inheritance!"

Starkiller was struck by those words. His memories of Galen as a child, loved by his father returned. Kento Marek had been a kindly Jedi. C'Baoth, by contrast, seemed harsh.

But the old man appeared to be Starkiller's last hope.

"I sense much confusion and internal strife within you," C'Baoth said. "Do you have the will – the gumption – to do the things that need to be done?"

Starkiller nodded. "I do."

"Then prove it."

C'Baoth snapped his fingers. Vines dropped from above him and there – hanging from the trees, bound by their arms and legs, were three tired and gaunt looking Wookies.

Starkiller raised an eyebrow. "What is this?"

The aged Jedi Master stared at each Wookie. They were barely conscious, groaning helplessly. "I found these Wookies – each from a different tribe of course. Each one has a higher-than-normal concentration of midichlorians. Had the Jedi Order still existed, they would have been taken to Coruscant. They would not have made exceptional Jedi by any means – not like you or I – their midichlorian counts pale in comparison to ours. But they have made a somewhat refreshing meal for me these past few days. An appetizer – their midichlorians have made me stronger. But not to worry, my boy. I have left enough of their midichlorians for you. Enough for you to take for your own and reawaken the living Force within you!"

Starkiller stared at the three Wookies. They were barely conscious, but their eyes were begging him for help. Soft guttural growls pled with him.

C'Baoth stood behind the young clone, breathing into his ear. "Go ahead. I've already had my fill. The leftovers are all yours."

Starkiller stared into the pitiful eyes of the Wookies. "This … this is wrong …"

C'Baoth merely smiled. "I anticipated that you would have such apprehensions. But do you not understand – the fate of the galaxy is hanging on our shoulders? We Jedi need to step up, assume our rightful place in the galaxy. To destroy the Sith and reassert the Jedi's dominance over galactic affairs, some hard choices need to be made! Compassion is a Jedi virtue and I commend you for it. But the Jedi also failed to learn that they had a responsibility to the galactic collective! They died out because they refused to learn that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few!"

Starkiller was backing away. He stared at the old man in disgust. "What kind of Jedi are you …?"

"I am the Jedi that will resurrect our Order. I am the Jedi that will save the galaxy and destroy the Sith once and for all!"

"You're insane!"

"All true visionaries are called insane. No, my boy. I am perhaps the only sane one in this galaxy! I am the only one able and willing to do all the dirty things that need to be done! You think the Sith are merely playing a game of dejarik?" C'Baoth's pupils were wide now. "We must fight fire with fire! We Jedi must use the Sith's tactics against them!"

"At what cost? Our souls?"

"You would really weigh your own soul against the lives of trillions across the galaxy?"

Starkiller faltered.

C'Baoth stepped forward. "Let's put it more simply … do you value the lives of these three Wookies higher than the life of Captain Eclipse?"

"How do you know -?"

"Answer the question!"

"I -." Starkiller stared at the pitifully whimpering trio of Wookies. The original Galen grew up here and Starkiller shared in his memories of the Wookies. Proud, fierce warriors, able to rip the ears off a gundark. But to see these Wookies, reduced to whimpering, emaciated husks, their fur hanging loosely from their bodies … this was twisted.

Starkiller shook his head. "No … Not like this …"

Without thinking, without blinking, Starkiller ran deep into the forests.

Behind him, Joruus C'Baoth grinned and folded his arms. "And where will you go?" he chortled to himself. "Into the Shadowlands? Very well. You will soon realize that all your paths will eventually lead back … to me …"

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Starkiller had no idea where he was running to. All he knew was that he had to get away – get away from this insane Jedi Master.

The trees around him grew longer, the skies darker. He could no longer even see the sky anymore, the foliage was so thick. A shadowy gloom hung over the forest floors.

The Shadowlands, he realized. Galen had been warned sternly by Kento to never venture into the Shadowlands. And here Starkiller was, with no Force powers.

He sighed and sat upon a rock. He had to catch his breath.

His eyes fell upon cables and wires upon the ground. But that was odd … trees and rocks don't have cables and wires …

"Life form detected. Binary match … not found."

"What?" Starkiller rose to his feet. Projected several feet above him was the shining blue hologram of an alien – a species he had never come across before.

"I repeat," the hologram said – "match not found. Closing all databanks."

"Wait! Who are you?" For a moment, Starkiller had forgotten all about the old Jedi Master and his Wookie captives. Curiosity was now gnawing at him. Who places a recording in the middle of a forest floor?

"I am programmed only to reveal such information to those who match the neurological profile. You do not. This system will shut down."

"Stupid machine," Starkiller muttered as the blue hologram vanished. "Fine. I have bigger problems anyway."

"Indeed you do …"

Starkiller spun around, thinking for a moment C'Baoth had pursued him into the Shadowlands. Instead, his mouth fell open as a shimmering grey figure materialized before him. It was transparent … but the figure wore black and red robes with a cape. His head was covered in a Mandalorian Chieftain mask and a thick Sith hood was thrown over him.

The young clone narrowed his eyes. "A Force ghost?"

"No. My true essence has moved on to the Force. But when some places are touched by particularly powerful Force users, it leaves echoes of that individual … traces that can manifest."

"A Force echo …?" Starkiller narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"When I came to this world in search of its secrets, I was once known as Darth Revan."

"A Sith!"

"And Jedi. I have lived both lives, Light, Dark, Jedi, Sith, Hero, Villain, Savior, Conqueror. I experienced the extremes of both sides. As have you."

Starkiller sighed. "Yes. I served both the Dark and the Light."

"And what both sides brought you?"

Starkiller looked at the echo of Revan. He admitted the truth. "Pain … loss … misery …"

"The Light and the Dark wage a constant war in each of us. And in the galaxy. But true balance will never be achieved by aligning one way or the other. The Dark Side is as much a part of the Force as the Light and to deny that is to deny the nose on your face. A true Jedi does not exclude one or the other. A true Jedi revels in both aspects of the great mystery, walking in both paths."

"Balance …" Starkiller said. "It was prophesied that the Chosen One would bring balance to the Force …"

"You still cling to the prophecy? Even after all you have seen? But yet, the Chosen One is just like us. He has walked both the Jedi Path and the Sith Path. Both bring him misery and pain – as both sides did us. The Jedi Order failed him, and the Sith have enslaved him."

"I don't believe the Jedi failed." Starkiller remained defiant.

"That's because you still believe you can win this war with your honor intact. You still believe that the Light is the Way … but I tell you that that true victory will not come through embracing only a portion of the Force. The true Jedi will embrace both aspects! As I have done. Darth Vader embodies both the Light and Dark, though he believes he has snuffed the Light out. He embodies the True Jedi Path – Light and Dark, intertwined in one being. He must discover this truth – bring balance between Light and Darkness inside himself – embrace anger, pain, love, compassion – all the spectrum that the Force allows us – before he can achieve final balance. And in doing so – he will show the rest of the galaxy the Way. That it is not by rejecting or embracing either side, but both sides – that will bring balance to the Force."

Starkiller shook his head. "You're wrong! Vader is a monster. He can't be the Chosen One! I … think somehow the Chosen One is out there … being watched over by another Jedi."

The Force Echo of Revan was silent for a moment. "Tell me … what will you do when you face the real Galen Marek on Mortis?"

"How do you know - ?"

"Will you strike him down? Will you do what needs to be done to spare the galaxy?"

"I –" Starkiller lowered his head. "If he is the true Galen Marek, then there has to be some portion of the light within him. You said it yourself – light and dark within one person. I've walked that path and so has he."

"You believe he can be saved. Perhaps you are right – but what if he does not give you that option? What if he reaches the Temple of Mortis, prepares to siphon its power for his own? Will you strike him down?"

"I -."

"You choose weakness? You choose mercy, when the fate of trillions rests on your shoulders? You would spare him and allow him the full power of Mortis?"

"No …"

"You have seen what will happen. Do you choose to condemn the galaxy to its fate? Or, more to the point – do you choose to condemn Juno Eclipse to hers? You know what will happen … she will die. And you will never know which of the two Starkillers – you or him – that she truly loved …"

The clone was on his knees, fresh tears baked in his eyes. "S-stop!"

"The galaxy will burn. The full fury of Mortis will meet the full power of the Death Star. Plagueis and Sidious will destroy each other and the entire galaxy while you sit on the sidelines, desperate to walk the path of the Light. You know I speak the truth! You know you must do whatever it takes to stop them! So do you have the strength to do all the ugly, disgusting things to save the galaxy?"

"I can't … please … don't make me …"

"You can save all of them. Embrace who you are! Jedi and Sith! Light and Dark! Become both! Embody both aspects! You came to Marek's childhood home, but the time has come to put away childish things and grow up! You can be what the galaxy needs, just as I was … you can walk the path of the Grey Jedi …"

And Starkiller rose to his feet, his body shaking, as the Force Echo vanished into thin air around him.

.

.

.

"You have returned … just as I have foreseen …" C'Baoth was sitting on his throne in the makeshift Council Chamber he had erected in Galen Marek's old home. "I take it the Shadowlands have shown you what you need to see?"

Starkiller nodded, shame filling him, but also a newfound resolve. "Yes."

C'Baoth glided out of his chair, grasping the boy's arm. "Then you fulfill your destiny. Tonight, the Force returns to you. And we rebuild the Jedi Order from the ashes of your old home …"

~0~

~0~

~0~

Darth Vader stood in a dueling room in the Mandalorian base, his arms folded. "I have no need of such crude training methods."

Darth Plagueis stood at his side as three training robots – PROXY models – approached. Two turned into the likenesses of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn.

"The mental blocks you have put in your mind have made it quite difficult to extract your hidden memories of Mortis," Plagueis observed.

"Perhaps such memories do not exist," Vader hissed.

"Oh they do," Plagueis grinned. "I'm certain they do. But you refuse to revisit your past. You dread reliving it. You fear those memories because deep down, you have not truly killed Anakin Skywalker. You still share the same love. So now, we destroy those barriers for good."

Vader turned his helmet to the third droid. He clenched his fist and his breathing quickened as the droid transformed into a beautiful young woman.

Just as he remembered her in his dreams, the only time his mind was allowed to dwell on her.

She was just as he remembered her on Naboo, frolicking in the fields. A beautiful yellow gown, hair curled and hanging down with flowers.

The droid had transformed into Padme Amidala before him. Vader stood there as she gazed up at him. "Anakin …"

Plagueis sidled up to the masked Dark Lord, breathing in his ear. "After all … to destroy Anakin Skywalker … you must destroy what he loved …" Plagueis pressed Vader's lightsaber hilt into his hand and backed away as Vader turned, staring down at the likeness of his dead wife …

.

Starkiller stood in the forest clearing, Joruus C'Baoth at his side. The three Wookies were dangling before him, whimpering, crying for help.

"Do it," C'Baoth ordered. "Take their midichlorians for your own and restore your connection to the Force!"

Starkiller stared at them, horrified by this decision, but emboldened by Revan's words.

.

Vader turned to Padme. His thumb flicked on the lightsaber, which hummed with an other-worldly noise.

.

Starkiller raised his hand.

.

Vader raised his saber.

.

And Starkiller, looking away, tears flowing from his eyes, extended his fingers, red energy curling up into his fingertips, draining away the Wookies' midichlorians as he felt his own soul drain into the darkness …

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