Maul: Legacy of Shadows

Chapter 3: What It Means to Exist

***Year 4 BBY***

Maul's stomach growled, and his lips were cracking due to an intense thirst. What little water remained in his ship's wreckage had barely kept him alive this long. Months of loneliness, months of dragging what remained of his prosthetic leg. The corpse of the reptilian beast was nearly rotted to the bone. After a week of exposure to the scent of decaying meat, Maul was able to finally handle the stench of its corpse.

Though his ship barely survived the crash onto Malachor, most of its functions were still operational, allowing him a shelter to seclude himself.  His true frustration still lay with his leg's current condition, and he didn't have adequate tools to repair it to working order. Even with a decent skillset in engineering, Maul found that he couldn't keep the leg from collapsing after a few hours of walking. Every time it would collapse, Maul's anger would boil over. More than a few times, this involved throwing his lightsaber at anything that happened to be in front of him.

Maul finally believed he solved the issue of his leg, but it required near constant attention with the Force to hold the limb together. It wasn't a perfect solution, but after holding the mechanical contraption together for a full galactic standard day, he felt comfortable that it would make do for now. Maul now felt confident he could venture out and find sustenance, if any was to be found on this desolate planet.

Hours dragged by, and Maul kept his telekinetic hold on his leg as he walked the rough terrain of Malachor's cavernous expanse. No matter how far he traveled, the petrified bodies seemed endless, and the Sith temple slowly shrunk in the distance.  The black pyramid was the only thing standing out in a world of pillars and darkness.   A familiar sound could be heard among the silence, one that Maul was in desperate need of.

Walking under a small archway of stone, Maul spotted a small puddle forming under an opening in the planet's true, yet contradictorily false surface. His concentration on his leg almost faltered, and he quickly regained composure, holding it together as he rushed towards the puddle. Maul's metallic knees slammed into the dirt, as he scooped up the liquid into his hands, and slowly drank the contents. Every molecule washed over his parched throat and Maul felt refreshed after days of skirting the threshold of death. Scooping another helping of water, Maul quickly consumed the liquid, unaware that his concentration had finally broken on his prosthetic leg.

Ready to scoop a third helping, Maul cursed internally as a spring snapped from his leg and bounced along the ground before falling into a small crevice. Trying to realign his grasp on the Force, Maul sensed it was too late, as he felt the limb buckling through the Force. The sound of metal grinding reverberated through the area, as Maul lost his balance and fell backwards onto the ground, dropping his cane next to himself. Moments later, the limb collapsed into a pile of individual pieces to an almost unsolvable puzzle.

As Maul pondered over his situation, he knew he was likely sitting upon his final resting place. Fitting that he should die on a world surrounded by the bodies of Jedi and Sith alike, but deep down he knew he was neither. All he had was the Force, and his own hatred that fueled his power. A smile crept upon his face, as he finally accepted his fate, and closed his eyes waiting for death to eventually take him. His consciousness began to slip from exhaustion, and slowly he fell into a deep sleep.

***Year 3,959 BBY***

Bao-Dur could hear the sounds of lightsabers clashing outside the temple, as he worked tirelessly to activate the ancient holocron that would be the key to activating the temple's defenses. He had spent weeks attempting to understand how the weapon worked, and what would happen if it did. His general and Jedi Master, a human female of striking features, never pressured him to work quicker. She knew they were treading on forbidden ground and would surely lose their right to call themselves Jedi before the day was over. The Sith were relentless, and with their Mandalorian allies, had for years been terrorizing the galaxy, one system at a time.

This all came to an end when a lone Jedi decided to rally his friends to the defense of the young Republic. Rumors circulated that the Jedi had fallen to the Dark Side, and that this was just a war between two factions of Sith.  That they only deluded themselves into believing they were all still Jedi. Bao-Dur began to believe this rumor, as he constantly questioned his actions and the actions of his comrades. Only his general commanded his respect, as she never once showed emotion, and held a calm calculating presence, something he appreciated.

When she presented him with an ancient holocron, he was perplexed as to her reasoning, but he swore his trust in her was unwavering and he would not fail her. She described the Sith holocron as a creation of one of the first Sith, a dark Jedi named Syn, who founded the Sith cult millennia beforehand after the conflict known as the Hundred-Year Darkness. Bao-Dur knew her as a person who valued knowledge over all other forms of power, and it was her very pursuit of endless knowledge that drove her to the Dark Side.

The Zabrak grew frustrated, as he was so close to finishing the puzzle, but this final piece still rebuked his every attempt at understanding it. His mind raced as he heard the lightsabers and blasters just outside the temple walls, moments away from being breached by their enemies. Throwing the holocron on the ground, Bao-Dur unsheathed his blue lightsaber and held it over his head, ready to smash the holocron beneath the humming blade. His eyesight blurred as his anger and frustration came to a head, and just before his blade struck the small pyramid, a wave of energy knocked the Zabrak Jedi off his feet.

Dazed but regaining his senses, Bao-Dur watched as the holocron levitated into position between two obelisks that began to glow with a bright crimson light. His general rushed to his side and stood next to him as he stood himself upright. Her face didn't change, even as a voice rang out from the holocron.

"You who understand the price of knowledge, what do you seek of this academy?" the holocron asked of the Zabrak.

Bao-Dur stood silent, unable to comprehend what was happening, as the Force itself seemed to twist in the air around him. His general placed one of her hands on his left shoulder, and Bao-Dur slowly looked at her as she simply nodded to him. Closing his eyes, Bao-Dur understood that the Force must've guided him to this moment, and only he could make the decision now.

"I seek victory!" Bao-Dur exclaimed, unsure what form that request would take, and one that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

The holocron began to split into equal pieces, and the room shook as the temple seemed to power up. A bright crimson beam ignited above the sky, as the planet itself seemed to scream from pain.  It wasn't alone.  A chorus outside the temple screamed in terror, and within a split second, was completely silenced. Bao-Dur and his general collapsed as the Force itself seemed to die around them. Bao-Dur felt the nothingness; he seemed deaf to the Force that should permeate all things. His general slowly rose to her feet as well, and she seemed catatonic.

"General, are you injured?" Bao-Dur asked, unsure if he himself was without injury.

His general didn't reply, but Bao-Dur noticed a small tear run down her left cheek. Closing his eyes, he felt the Force had abandoned them both. His master was one who never showed much emotion, yet here she was, devastated by a feeling of anguish and sorrow. Slowly, they both walked to the temple's entrance, and Bao-Dur opened the black stone doorway to observe what had transpired outside the temple during the weapon's activation. As the slab rose, the sight he beheld was one of unimaginable horror, and Bao-Dur accepted that he was no longer worthy of the Force.

For as far as he could see, friend and foe stood motionless, their bodies blackened and charred. All held faces of terror, and in death, Bao-Dur couldn't make out who was Sith and who was Jedi. Many lightsabers were still activated, held by petrified hands, destined to clash forever in a lightless world tomb.

"What have we done?" his general whispered, her face showing her internal defeat.

Bao-Dur led her to their personal starship and took one final look back at what was minutes before, a battlefield of Sith and Jedi. Silence. The world stood dead and silent.

"Where do we go now, General?" Bao-Dur asked.

"Coruscant, I must inform the council what transpired, and take responsibility for what happened here," she said, her voice sounding distant, even as she sat next to her Zabrak apprentice.