AN: Some bits of dialogue have been borrowed from Jedi Quest: The False Peace. I'd also like to apologize for daring to mention midi-chlorians. I'm so, so sorry, but I had no choice.

They can't hear us, save us,

there's nowhere for us to escape

– "Feels Like Falling", UNSECRET Feat. Erin McCarley

The white hair of Darsha Assant blew in the slight breeze that always seemed to be present in certain areas of Coruscant's lower levels.

She was standing with her master, Anoon Bondara; a Rutian Twi'lek and the man who had found her on Aldaraan when she'd been nothing but an orphan. He was speaking with a police droid about the body that had been found, and Darsha's gaze was drawn again to the deceased male before she had to look away from all of the blood.

Zek Peiro had been infamous on the lower levels, according to reports. Considered a wanted man by the law and a desired asset by outlaws, it looked as though his luck had finally run out (if the Jedi believed in that sort of thing). But even so, getting stabbed in the heart by a shard of metal was a gruesome way to die. Darsha didn't think someone who was merely a thief for hire deserved a fate like that.

"Are you certain of this?"

Her master's words pulled her back into the conversation, but she didn't dare ask him to repeat himself. It was bad enough that he was continually reprimanding her for daydreaming, but to do it so close to her Trials…

"The midi-chlorian test was conclusive," said the police droid.

Darsha's eyebrows went up when she realised what they were talking about. "He was Force-sensitive?"

"It would certainly explain why his skills were far greater than that of his rivals. Excuse me." The droid walked over to the forensic droid that was still examining the body.

Anoon stroked his chin, deep in thought. "This changes things."

"Master?"

"Even Force-sensitives who have not been trained can still tap into their potential," he explained. "I too have heard of Zek Peiro's unmatched skills in thievery and evasion. Someone like him should have seen his death coming." He looked down at his apprentice, expecting her to follow his line of thought and draw her own conclusions.

She thought deeply, trying to grasp what was right in front of her. Force-sensitives could still be caught off-guard. Jedi who died before their time were proof of that. But Zek Peiro had made a living out of staying one step ahead of the law; he specialised in knowing when danger was coming. Meaning that the only way he could have been caught off-guard was if…

"He was killed by a Force-wielder."

The Twi'lek nodded. "And that Force-wielder doesn't want to be discovered."

Before they could further discuss the revelation, the police droid re-joined them. "We have received intel from one of Mr. Peiro's associates concerning his last employer. He was hired by Deputy Viceroy Hath Monchar of the Trade Federation, and while the details of the job are not known, he was paid half a million unmarked credits for his services."

Darsha's eyes widened. "Half a million credits? Must have been some job."

"Yes, and whoever he was stealing from could have been responsible for this," said Anoon. "Come along, Padawan. I think we should pay Mr. Monchar a visit."

Lorn knew he was going to die that day.

In his panicked mind, all sorts of crazy notions hit him from all sides; things he would never have considered before, even during his darkest moments when his hatred of the Jedi was near all-consuming. Notions such as did Jedi have assassins? Assassins who were let loose when dark secrets about the Order were in danger of being uncovered?

And if that was the case, then Lorn knew he needed to do everything in his power to show this secret to the galaxy, even if it killed him.

"Jedi." The word slipped past his lips against his will.

The Zabrak's gaze snapped to him. There was anger in his deeply unsettling yellow eyes, an anger that seemed almost familiar. He started to move, and Lorn's hand went to the blaster at his side. If this was the end for him, he wanted to at least go down fighting.

But something behind the Zabrak caught his attention, and he turned with lightning speed. A second blade appeared from his lightsaber, blocking the strike of another lightsaber, this one green. Yet another blade joined the fray; a yellow one.

Green and yellow were colours more familiar to Lorn. Jedi. They were fighting the unknown assassin, and all of the crazy notions about them left his mind in an instant. He felt stupid for even considering them. And though his resentment towards them hadn't changed, he knew they weren't evil, and he was relieved at their arrival. They were probably the only ones who could defeat this other Force-wielder.

With a roar that sounded like an animal's, the Zabrak leapt back over the threshold towards the two Jedi. Lorn moved towards the fight so he could get a better look, wondering if the Jedi were anyone he knew. They weren't; the one with the green blade was an older Twi'lek male, and the one with the yellow blade was a Human female with white hair. She was the apprentice; Lorn could tell by her Padawan braid.

"Darsha!" the Twi'lek said to his apprentice. "Get them out of here! Protect them!"

The Padawan, Darsha, took several steps back from the fight. When she was certain that her master was holding the Zabrak's attention, she jumped and used both the Force and her momentum to run along the wall above the battle. Upon landing on the other side, she hurried over to the doorway and beckoned to the two men inside.

"Quickly!"

Though Lorn was hesitant to trust a Jedi, his self-preservation won out and he ran out the door. Looking behind him, he saw Tyro hurriedly searching through draws.

"Tyro, come on!" Lorn waved his hand at his friend.

Their gazes met, but before Tyro could move, the walls above and around the door began to crumble. Lorn turned to see that the Zabrak had knocked the other Jedi back and was using the Force, focussing all of his energy on the walls. With a snarl, he brought it all down along with a good chunk of the ceiling, blocking the doorway.

Lorn almost didn't get out of the way in time, but was yanked back by Darsha. He snatched his hand back from her immediately and hurried back to the door. "Tyro!"

"I'm fine!" the Svivreni called from the other side. "Go! I'll catch up!"

He didn't want to leave his friend behind, but there was no other choice. Lorn made a break for the turbo lift and mashed the button repeatedly. It took him a few moments to realise that the lift wasn't working. The power had gone out.

Looking back down the hall, he saw Darsha standing between him and the fight going on between the Zabrak and her master. He could see the conflicted feelings in her eyes as she looked between the pair; she wanted to join the fight, but also knew she had to obey her master's wishes.

And Lorn could see why she was conflicted: the Jedi Master was struggling against the Zabrak. Though he was older and looked more experienced, his age was also a hinderance, making his movements slower. The Zabrak, while less experienced, was younger and faster – and far more brutal. He threw all of his anger and emotion into the fight, and Lorn was almost mesmerised by the sight. So used to seeing Jedi fight with tranquil control, bearing witness to what they would be like with the brakes off was, honestly, quite terrifying.

That horror increased when the Zabrak blindsided the Jedi by hitting his forehead with the hilt of his lightsaber. But instead of impaling him with his own blade, he used the Force to pick up a shard of metal from the nearby rubble and impaled him with that, instead.

The Padawan screamed.

Knowing what would happen next, Lorn turned his attentions back to the turbo lift. It still wasn't working. Though he wasn't as strong as Tyro, he channelled his adrenaline into his arms and struggled to force the doors open. Hope of escape faded when he saw no lift on the other side, just a dark drop straight down.

He turned back to see the Padawan readying herself to fight the Zabrak, who was stalking towards them. One of his blades was dragging along the floor, sending sparks up behind him. It was an intimidating display.

But what the Zabrak hadn't noticed was that the Jedi Master was still alive, if barely. Lorn watched as he raised his hand, summoned the Force, and pushed.

Lorn was blown off his feet and sent hurtling down the lift shaft.

Panic quickly overtook him. All he could think about was that he was falling, and that the Jedi had pushed him. Crazy notions filled his mind once more. They were just as bad as this Zabrak assassin; first they took his son, then lost him his job, lost him his wife, and now they were going to take his life, as well. The galaxy would be a better place without the Jedi, he decided, and if he survived, he was going to join the first anti-Jedi group he found.

He turned in the air and saw Darsha in the same predicament above him, though she managed to collect herself quickly. She disengaged her lightsaber, streamlined herself so she soared down to Lorn's level, then wrapped an arm around him. He tried to push her off him. If he could grab a hold of something…

"You need to calm yourself!" she shouted. "Most people die before they even hit the ground because they panic! Control your fear, and let me worry about the landing!"

Though the thought of having to rely on a Jedi made his blood boil, Lorn did as she said and let his whole body relax. No sooner had he done so, he saw the ground beneath them coming up fast, and almost panicked all over again. But then Darsha reached out with the Force and slowed their descent, allowing them to land safely at the bottom of the lift shaft.

Lorn collected himself with several deep breaths. "Thank you," he muttered. Jedi she may be, he owed her his life.

She didn't acknowledge him; she was looking upwards. Lorn followed her gaze, and saw a faint red light at the top of the shaft. The Zabrak was attempting to follow them.

"We need to hurry." Darsha looked around them for a way out, but there were no doors; the last set of doors were several feet above them. Thinking fast, Darsha ignited her lightsaber and began to cut a hole through the floor.

"What are you doing?!" Lorn looked between her and the Zabrak above them. At this point, he honestly didn't know which one was worst. "Do you even know what's beneath us?!"

"A Trade Federation warehouse," she said with confidence. "It should be abandoned at this time of day."

"Meaning it will also be locked."

Before Darsha could respond, she finished cutting the circle around them and they fell through the floor. It was a short drop, and they both rolled across the floor when they hit it.

Lorn sat up and surveyed their surroundings. The warehouse was reasonably large, but not massively so. There were crates of all sorts lying around, and as Darsha said, there wasn't a single soul to be found. No windows meant no natural light, though the darkness was kept at bay by a number of dim lights dotted about.

Darsha got to her feet and held out a hand towards him. He ignored it and got up on his own. "We need to find a way out of here. That… thing destroyed my commlink. I don't suppose you have one?"

She patted her pockets and turned up empty. "I must have forgotten to pick it up before I left the Temple this morning. Not the first time that's happened…" She turned away, her face twisting with disappointment. "Why did he say I was ready for the Trials? All I ever do is make mistakes. Daydreaming, forgetting things… And now he's…"

For a moment it looked as though tears were starting to form in her eyes, before she sucked in a breath and pushed the emotions away. She then started looking around the warehouse for a way out, acting as if nothing had happened.

Lorn found himself pitying her. She was barely just a woman, early twenties at most, and she wasn't even allowed to cry. Emotions were what made people… well, people. What kind of a life would it be to feel… nothing?

And he had given his son to that life. For the first time since it had happened, he felt anger at himself instead of the Jedi. If only he hadn't been so quick to decide, if only he had learned more about what would happen to Jax…

He shook his head. There wasn't time to worry about what ifs. They had more pressing matters. "What even was he? That assassin? He was Force-sensitive, but no Jedi."

"I'm not sure," said Darsha. "I know he's a Nightbrother. I recognised the tattoos."

"Nightbrother?" Lorn frowned. "What the kriff is a Nightbrother?"

"The Nightbrothers are a clan of Zabraks on Dathomir," the Padawan explained. "Another clan, the Nightsisters, rule over them. The Dathomirians are all Force-sensitive, but they've never been known to carry lightsabers."

"I've never seen a lightsaber that colour," said Lorn. "I didn't think you could even get red blades. Or can you?"

"Only with the dark side. It's called crystal bleeding. The practise died out when…" She trailed off, deep in thought, before her eyes widened in realisation. "No… It can't be… They were wiped out…"

Lorn watched her carefully. "They? Who were wiped out?"

Darsha met his gaze, and in her eyes, he saw something he'd never seen in a Jedi before: unbridled terror. "The Sith."

The name awoke some form of primal fear deep within him, and he shuddered involuntarily before trying to push the fear away. He had heard stories; stories of a war long ago, when the Jedi had fought an ancient enemy and an empire that had nearly conquered the entire galaxy. Records were few and incomplete, thanks to many centuries of peace wiping them from the collective memory.

"You mean that monster story you Jedi tell Younglings at night?" he questioned. The Zabrak they had faced certainly fit the description.

"We can't be certain, not until we investigate further. But even if that's what he is, what was he even after?" said Darsha, asking both him and herself. "If he was the one Zek stole from…"

"Zek?" asked Lorn, as they started to walk through the warehouse.

"Zek Peiro," she replied. "He was a Force-sensitive thief for hire. My master and I were investigating his murder. We heard that his last job was from Hath Monchar, so we were on our way to question him about it."

"Hath Monchar is dead."

"I assumed. Why were you there?"

Lorn sighed. He didn't see any harm in telling her, especially since it could help them get out of the situation alive. "Tyro and I were contacted by Mr. Monchar because he insisted that he possessed information regarding some kind of conspiracy at the heart of both the Trade Federation and the Republic."

Darsha frowned. "If that man is truly what I think he is, then I think we just found out what the conspiracy is. The Sith have returned. We need to get back to the Jedi Temple immediately and inform the Council."

"Will they believe you?" Lorn asked. The last thing he wanted to do was go to the same people who had taken his son from him, even though he knew deep down that they were probably the only ones who could stop this foe. "I've heard they're not the most reasonable bunch. And that Sith took care not to kill your master with a lightsaber."

"I know." Darsha looked away. "He did the same thing to Zek Peiro. If only we had some kind of proof."

Lorn's hand went to his pocket, but he hesitated. The Holocron was the only leverage he had; the only way he could potentially get his son back. But if the Sith truly had returned, then that meant the Jedi were in danger. And that included his son. Even if he did get Jax back, he doubted the Sith would spare him simply because he'd left the Order. What if they came for Jax to be trained as a Sith?

He needed to do the right thing.

So, Lorn removed the Holocron from his pocket and showed it to Darsha. "I found this in the office. This has to be what was stolen."

The Padawan's eyes widened. "That's a Holocron… but not a Jedi one."

"Can you open it?"

"If it's a Sith Holocron, then only the dark side can open it," she explained. "But it could be neutral. Only one way to find out."

Darsha closed her eyes and reached out her hand towards it, calling on the Force. Her face scrunched up in concentration, and for a moment, Lorn thought that it would refuse to respond to her and stay closed.

But then it started to move. It lifted from his hand and opened, pieces separating and floating around the main cube. The whole thing lit up, and from within it, a holovid started to play. Lorn expected it to show some kind of warning or master plan, or perhaps someone being tortured.

Instead, it showed the last thing he expected to see.

A child.

Maul had never felt so powerful. He would be revelling in his victory against the Jedi Master, if he wasn't still in the throes of desperation.

He had killed his first Jedi. At last. It wasn't how he would have preferred to kill the Jedi; the sacred rite he had wanted when he'd first fought Eldra had been discarded, simply because he didn't have time. And he would have preferred to strike the man down with his lightsaber, only that would have drawn unnecessary attention from the rest of the Jedi. This was a test, after all. Leaving evidence would make him a failure.

But a Jedi death was a Jedi death, and he should have felt something. Instead he was filled with that familiar emptiness; that nothingness. There was no rising anger, no satisfaction. Perhaps it was because this Jedi Master was a Rutian Twi'lek like Eldra and Kassandra, and that familiarity was preventing him from truly revelling in his victory. Or perhaps he would just have to kill more Jedi in order to finally start to feel a sense of purpose, instead of the emptiness that seemed to always be in its place.

At least the emptiness had faded somewhat, thanks to Eldra or Kassandra. They filled it.

Thinking of them calmed him for only a moment, because they reminded him of his mission. That clerk still had the Holocron, and worse still, he had a Jedi with him. A Padawan, but then Eldra had proven that Padawans could be just as deadly and skilled as the Masters who trained them.

Eldra… She was in danger of being discovered, she and their pup. Maul knew he needed to move quickly if he had any chance of stopping the duo before they made it to the safety of the Jedi Temple. But first, he had another problem to take care of.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" The Svivreni shook the broken commlink before hitting it against his hand, trying to make it work. "Curran, is that you? Listen to me. I've dug through Monchar's files, looking for anything that alluded to this conspiracy he told me about. And I stumbled on something. Something… something terrible."

There was a lot of static in the connection when the person on the other end tried to respond. Maul crept silently towards the lawyer, who thought he was alone in the remains of the Deputy Viceroy's office. He hadn't considered that someone would be able to climb through the window.

Maul wanted more than anything to go after the Jedi and the clerk, but Sidious would have his head if he let any details about their plan slip. And it was clear that this Svivreni lawyer had discovered the truth.

"We can't talk about it over a commlink," the Svivreni continued. "We must meet. This involves the highest level-"

Knowing that he couldn't let the man say anymore, Maul once again raised a metal shard from the rubble by the door and used the Force to impale it through the being's heart. It killed him instantly, cutting him off mid-sentence, and his lifeless body dropped to the floor. There was still static on the other end of the commlink, so Maul crushed it some more, silencing it.

The young Sith then used the Force to move the Svivreni towards the rubble. He had done the same to the Jedi on the other side; it made it look like both had been killed in the collapse. Hopefully the planet's police would assume that the destruction had been caused by the explosion.

He left via the window, climbed into another on the floor below and planned his next move. There was a warehouse underneath the building; the Jedi and the clerk would be looking to escape it and find their way to the Temple. He needed to cut them off, kill them both and retrieve the Holocron.

In his head, Eldra's voice started whispering to him; telling him to stop all this senseless killing and to think about the opportunity that was before him. He could find this Jedi and tell her his predicament, ask her to help him get his family to safety…

But he violently pushed the notion away. His family was his to protect, and he vowed to kill any Jedi who went near them.