FORSAKEN - Target: Zero

PROLOGUE

Troops in black armor bounded from one cover to the next, clearing every corner to avoid falling prey to what could lurk in the darkness. Unlike other missions, tonight the purge stormtroopers hunted a shadow in the streets of Savareen. The mangled bodies of their comrades left a trail for them to follow, and the screams of those beyond warned them of the proximity of their target.

Up ahead, a second squad lay in ambush, listening to the fight getting closer. The clones raised their weapons, fingers on triggers. A purge trooper flew into the side of a building, cracking the wall. In his wake, a pair of eyes burned with rage from the gloom. This was no Jedi.

Blaster fire lit the alley, flashing his tattooed red skin. Men shielded him, dragged against their will by unseeing means. Tracheas collapsed in similar fashion. Dead bodies were flung, knocking shooters off the roof. An unseen force yanked another down.

With the clank of his cybernetic legs, Maul landed on top while goring a clone through the visor with his horns and snapping another's neck. The Zabrak Force-choked two others and used them to smash the clone between them. Hearing approaching sounds, he continued to escape, jumping over the rooftops.

Leaping back to the ground, Maul saw the hangar he spied a few meters away. His path to freedom was blocked by four purge troopers wielding electrostaffs, and one member of the Order of Inquisitors, a Kaleesh.

Patterns drawn in blood marked the Kaleesh's traditional skull mask, taken from a vanquished predator. Padawan braids and kyber crystals—green and blue—festooned his dark armor. His reptilian eyes were fixed on his prey. At the buzz of the extending blades of his dual lightsaber, the purge troopers attacked.

Maul sneered.

The Eleventh Brother stayed back to gauge the skill of his opponent. It took a few moves for him to realize the stories about the Emperor's former apprentice had not been exaggerated. Maul managed to stay one step ahead of his attackers, evading their hits, or using his foes as cover. All the while, counterstriking with astonishing nimbleness. Eleventh Brother intervened, when the Zabrak appropriated a weapon.

The electrostaff came alive in the hands of the former Sith in a manner inconceivable by his antagonists. Blocking the lightsaber without looking, Maul fenced off the Inquisitor, while dealing with the purge troopers—he found their lightsaber-resistant armor a useful barrier, even after they died at the hands of their leader. The sound of approaching troopers interrupted the fight. Maul parried high and swept the Eleventh Brother off his feet with a spinning kick, Force-pushing him into the incoming clones.

As shots flew passed him, Maul dove inside the hangar and rolled onto a knee, while the door closed behind him. He crushed the lock with the Force, preventing his pursuers from entering. A dry laughter stole his brief respite.

The Fourteenth Sister, enshrouded in her Inquisitor's armor, blocked the path to Maul's stolen Nu-class attack shuttle. A squad of purge troopers trained their blasters on the dark side adept as he rose.

"I must say, for someone with your obvious limitations, you put up a good chase," the Fourteenth Sister said. "But I'm afraid this is the end of the road for you, Maul."

Maul laughed. "So, you are the Emperor's new toys. He must be desperate."

"He's not the one who's about to die." The Fourteenth Sister presented her lightsaber; its handguard split in two, with blades at both ends extended, as the hilt began to spin.

"In my day, it took years of torture and ruthless training to bleed a kyber crystal. Now, everyone in a black outfit gets handed one. And mine didn't require mechanical assistance." In a display of mastery, Maul spun his electrostaff around into a fighting stance, inviting his enemy to attack.

The Fourteenth Sister accepted the offer, her lightsaber producing sparks every time it missed. Even when she split his staff, Maul continued to fight with both halves. As they fought, the Eleventh Brother began to cut through the door with his sword. Maul didn't know if he could deal with both Inquisitors and dozens of purge troopers at the same time. His qualms disappeared when the starship opened fired on the clones. Maul had no idea why, but he didn't waste the opportunity it provided him either.

Aided by the distraction, Maul disarmed the Fourteenth Sister and killed her with her own lightsaber. Deflecting blaster fire, he slaughtered his way through the purge troopers, under the cover of the starship's guns. Inside the cockpit, an Imperial R-4 astromech operated the cannons via the computer terminal. With no time to question the droid's impromptu assistance, Maul took off as the Eleventh Brother breached the door.

As soon as ship left the planet's atmosphere, Maul turned his attention to his curious benefactor. "Tell me, little one, why have you betrayed your masters?" he said.

The R-4 turned its single eye to Maul. It began to speak, but instead of doing so in binary, its digital beeping and whistling formed words in Galactic Basic. "Greetings, Lord Maul."

"Ah, the puppeteer reveals himself."

"Not quite. An ally. Call me Pharos."

"Like a beacon in the dark. How noble," Maul mocked. "And to what do I owe your timely intervention?"

"We share a mutual goal."

"Is that so? And what is that?"

"The destruction of Sith."

The sole mention of the word brought hate into Maul's eyes. "We do have a common purpose. But I don't care for the workings of phantoms."

"Consider my intervention a gift of goodwill. We are safer toiling from the shadows. You, continuing to rebuild your criminal syndicate to disrupt the Empire. And I, providing you with the information needed to do so in secret. Once we're strong enough to strike, I will find a way for us to have our revenge."

"And if I refuse?"

"I won't be there to help you the next time the Inquisitors give chase."

"Is that a threat?" Maul's expression hardened.

"A fact. You're either friend or menace. Your choice."

"Friend, then." Maul could always manipulate his new associate into serving his own needs.

"I'm glad to hear that. We have a lot of work to do."

"Where do we start?"