ℝ𝔸𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝔸𝕃 ➵ o. kenobi {my only hope; book 1}

【 TWENTY-FIVE 】

     "ɴᴏᴏᴏ!" 

It was Obi-Wan who had screamed, but the feel was mutual. I was too in shock to make any noise--not that anything would have come out of my mouth if I had tried. I sunk to my knees in horror, my mouth wide open, as the light in the eyes of the man I'd come to look at as a father slowly began to die out. My eyes began to sting with tears, and my breath began to hitch.

That's when the Sith spun around, twirling his saber casually, and turning his attention to Obi-Wan and I. I glanced from Qui-Gon to the Dathomirian--the Sith who had just about killed him. A single tear spilled out of my eyelid, and I blinked hard, my eyes hardening in resolve. This feeling of pure anger and hatred was one I'd taught myself not to follow, but now, the feeling was so overwhelming, it was impossible to ignore. My pulsing fury flowed through my body, dulling the sharp pain in my shoulder. As I sensed the force fields getting ready to shut down again, I gripped my lightsaber so hard the metal began to grit and imprint into my skin. I clenched my jaw, and tensed my feet, forgetting all about Obi-Wan next to me, in the heat of the moment.

The second the forcefield was down was the second I sprang at him.

I'd never been so quick or resourceful with my lightsaber. My anger was flowing through me, dominating my senses and taking over. I could sense Obi-Wan next to me, attacking swiftly and professionally as well, but it was like I had tunnel vision--my eyes trained on the Sith and him alone.

I could tell he was taken aback by our sudden increase in pace and skill, and I was able to use that to my advantage. Just within ten seconds of engaging him, I had sliced his saber in half and kicked him backwards, before whirling on him again and throwing blow after blow, strike after strike. I was fighting completely one-handed, using my weak left arm not to hold my lightsaber but to reach out with the Force, to crawl inside the Sith Lord's mind.

Just like back in the alleyway on Tatooine, I already knew what to do. Inside of his mind, I could see everything. His past, his present, his future...

Darth Maul. That was his Sith name. It had been given to him a long time ago by his master, so long ago that he couldn't even remember what he'd originally been called.

He'd been taken from his mother and two brothers at a young age. The dark lord who'd trained him was powerful... a strong ally of the dark side, and had trained Maul to be that way as well. He'd spent his whole life growing up under the training of his master, conditioned to hate the light, trained to snuff it out wherever he found it. Even from inside his mind I could feel his burning hatred, fury flowing coarsely throughout his body as he forced himself to go on and on, fighting the two mourning apprentices whose Master he had just murdered.

He had plenty of dark, painful memories, but one stood out to me. It took place on a dark, desolate planet, one I didn't recognize, but was able to identify based off of a name plucked out of his head. Malachor.

I'd heard stories about Malachor as a youngling. A dark, terrible planet far off in the outer rim, spilling with forces of evil. On the surface it looked abandoned, but far below lay a temple... a temple of the Sith.

Rumors were that a battle had taken place there. The younglings would whisper the tale between themselves during their free time, using it as a ghost story to scare those who were younger and more gullible. The Jedi and the Sith had faced off in a great battle, a fight so deadly and violent there had been no survivors. It was said that the Sith temple had been equipped with a deadly weapon that had backfired and destroyed everyone in the battle... Jedi and Sith alike. I'd never heard anyone confirm it--not Master Yoda, not Master Windu... not even Kera. But this Sith's memory confirmed the stories we'd been so scared of, and made it ten times more real.