StoryMasterKick
patreon
The Path of the Stars
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 21:11:34 +0000 UTC“So, what's your next step, master?”
PROXY's voice interrupted my thoughts as he unfurled a hologram over the main console. The projection flickered for a moment before stabilizing, displaying a vast map of the galaxy with countless systems and sectors. Some regions blinked red, indicating areas under heavy Imperial control.
I remained seated in the captain's chair, elbows resting on my knees and fingers interlocked in front of my face and I have been in that state since I returned to the ship with the holocron. My gaze was lost in the projection, but my mind was far removed from simple stellar cartography.
“What can I do?”
The Empire wasn't just looking for me...it was hunting me.
From the moment I assassinated the Emperor, I became the regime's number one enemy. Vader might have tried to take the throne, but even with his influence, the Empire had not collapsed. Sidious had woven his rule with too much precision, leaving a structure that would survive even his death. And now, with his remnants of power struggling to consolidate, I posed the greatest threat to the fragile balance of the galaxy.
There wasn't a single corner of space where they weren't looking for me. Not just Imperial soldiers or Inquisitors... but bounty hunters, undercover agents, even remnants of those who still served the old Sith regime.
But I couldn't stand still.
"I have to find out the location of the Mass Shadow Generator before the Empire does. If Maul, with information obtained through criminal underworld contacts, managed to discover its existence... how long will it take the Empire to do the same with its unlimited resources?"
The possibilities were unfolding in my mind like pieces of an incomplete puzzle.
The Mass Shadow Generator was on Rakata Prime. But the problem was that I had no idea where that damned planet was.
I searched my memory. Throughout my training with Vader, I had studied many things: combat tactics, Sith history, military strategy... but I had never heard a single mention of Rakata Prime. Not even in the records of the Empire.
A vanished world. Forgotten.
That in itself told me a lot.
The only places that disappeared from the galactic map were those that had been destroyed, those that someone had wanted to erase or those unreachable under normal circumstances, there were several deep core worlds that did not possess updated hyperspace routes due to how costly it was to establish them as the landscape was always changing, this due to the Supermassive Black Hole that was at the center of the Galaxy.
"If the Mass Shadow Generator was moved there after Malachor V, then the Jedi of the Old Republic must have known about it. And if they did know... their records might contain clues."
I brought my eyes back to the map, noting the marked systems.
“Where could I find traces of that knowledge?”
The Jedi libraries had been destroyed. Most of the temples reduced to ashes. Whatever important archives had survived were now in the hands of the Empire, hidden in some Inquisition archive or sealed in Sidious's chests.
But not all Jedi records were on Coruscant.
Kreia had spoken of the Old Republic. Of the echoes of the past. If anyone else knew about Rakata Prime, it would be those who studied the times of the Mandalorian War and the Jedi Civil War.
There were some places where such knowledge might have lingered.
“But where?” I said aloud as I continued to look at the holomap of the Galaxy.
I gritted my teeth and ran a hand over my face, feeling frustration burn inside me. Every clue was leading me to a dead end, every idea seemed to fall apart before it even took shape. I didn't have time for this. If the Empire came to the same conclusion I had, if they decided that the Mass Shadow Generator still existed... it was only a matter of time before their agents started looking for it.
I couldn't afford to go in blind.
I looked again at the holocron on the table in front of me. Its reddish light was still glowing softly, as if waiting to be consulted again.
Kreia knows.
I took a deep breath and reached out a hand, activating it once more.
The hooded figure emerged from the projection, like a specter crawling from the shadows. Her expression remained inscrutable, her posture relaxed but attentive.
“You have returned,” she commented in her usual tone, devoid of surprise. “Tell me, disciple, have you yet faced the question you were afraid to ask?”
I wasted no time.
“Rakata Prime,” I said firmly. "It is not on any modern star chart. It doesn't exist in any records. If the Mass Shadow Generator was taken there, I need to find it... but I don't know how."
Kreia was silent for a moment, as if weighing my dilemma.
“Ah... so you've finally figured it out,” she murmured with a hint of satisfaction. "Searching for a world that doesn't want to be found is no simple task. But the answer, like so many others, lies in the past."
I frowned. “Explain.”
Kreia tilted her head slightly, her tone becoming more didactic, as if she were speaking to a student who had taken the first step toward understanding.
"The Rakata were an ancient, powerful... and arrogant civilization. Their Infinite Empire spanned countless worlds in the galaxy, enslaving races, raising monuments to their glory and leaving scars that still linger. But his power was not based on the Force alone... but on his technology."
The holocron's light flickered for a moment as his tone deepened.
"They had a mastery of hyperspace like no other civilization. Their routes did not rely on conventional coordinates or astronomical calculations. Instead, they used artifacts called Star Maps."
I frowned. “Star Maps?”
“Amazing, even after all this time, so few know of their existence,” Kreia said with a tinge of disdain. "Star Maps were fragments of a larger star map, scattered throughout the galaxy. Each contained part of the path to the heart of the Infinite Empire... to Rakata Prime."
I straightened in my seat, feeling a spark of hope ignite within me.
“If they still exist...” I murmured.
“Then you can use them to find your way,” Kreia concluded. "But don't get your hopes up. Most have been destroyed, consumed by the erosion of time or war. And those that still linger... are hidden on worlds where the echoes of the Infinite Empire still resonate."
“Where?” I asked immediately.
Kreia paused before answering.
"Korriban. Dantooine. Manaan. Kashyyyk. Korriban." His tone was almost nostalgic. "Once upon a time, a seeker from the past found all the fragments and deciphered the path. But time has passed, and the Star Maps have fallen back into obscurity. If you wish to find Rakata Prime, you will have to retrace the same steps he did... and hope that there is still something left to discover."
I processed her response, feeling a mixture of urgency and desperation.
“If they are on those planets, then I can find them.” I said with determination.
Kreia smiled slightly, though there was no warmth in her expression.
“That, disciple, remains to be seen.”
Her image began to slowly fade in the holocron's glow.
“But be careful... some truths of the past are better buried.”
And with those last words, I closed the holocron, the projection dispersing and leaving me alone with my thoughts.
With this new information I already knew what my next step would be.
“I have to assemble a team.” I said suddenly, startling PROXY, who fixed his yellow optics on me.
“Excuse me master, but you mean get a group together to get the star maps?” the droid asked as if trying to understand my train of thought.
"Yes, exactly, PROXY. I will need a small team. Even with my power, I'm not capable of taking on the Empire alone... even with your help."
The droid inclined his head slightly in a nod.
"Oh, now I understand, master. Good thinking. With the help of other prepared individuals, our odds of success would go up considerably."
I smiled thinly. "I'm glad you see it that way, buddy. Now the question is...who shall I recruit first?"
Before I could begin to consider options, an unfamiliar voice interrupted the conversation.
“You can start with me.”
The voice belonged neither to PROXY nor to me. It was harsh, marked by a somber gravity that was unmistakable to me.
In an instant, my instinct took over. I leapt to my feet, igniting my lightsaber in a crimson flash. The reddish illumination cast jagged shadows across the cabin as I spun toward the hallway entrance.
“Who's there?” I asked, my tone firm, but my mind already knew the answer.
Footsteps echoed on the metal floor of the ship. From the gloom, a silhouette slowly crept into my view. The horns, the red and black skin, the golden eyes with a latent ferocity...
Maul.
I blinked, startled, without lowering my saber. I had knocked him unconscious on Malachor. I had seen him fall. There was no way he was here... and yet, there he was.
He didn't look hurt. He didn't seem affected by what had happened. In fact, the slight curve to his lips denoted something unsettling...as if my surprise amused him.
My fingers gripped the lightsaber tighter, the bluish hum illuminating the space between us.
“Master, I have just analyzed 5000 possible outcomes and at 95% we gain victory without any casualties.”
PROXY's sudden statement broke the moment with surgical precision, his nonchalant tone at all in keeping with the intensity of the situation.
I blinked, confused, averting my eyes to the droid.
“What?
” “Combat analysis, Master,” PROXY clarified with his characteristic enthusiasm. “Based on my latest data collection on Darth Maul's combat capabilities, combined with his exponential growth in the use of the Force, I have determined that the likelihood of eliminating the threat without casualties is extremely high.”
His head tilted slightly to one side, and for an instant, you'd swear he was striking a pose of expectation.
“Shall we proceed?”
I looked back at Maul.
He was simply watching me, his expression remaining neutral... though a faint hint of amusement shone in his eyes.
For a second, I thought he was going to challenge me, that he was going to launch into a scathing comment, mocking my need to rely on a droid to assess the situation.
But instead, he let out a low, barely audible chuckle before speaking.
"Easy there, kid. I'm not here to hurt you."
I didn't let my guard down. "Maul... I saw you. You were unconscious. How did you wake up so fast?"
The zabrak let out a dry, humorless laugh.
“You learn a few things when you've been cut in half and left to die,” he replied with a tinge of mockery. “Recovering from a simple concussion is...trivial.”
I gritted my teeth, but before I could retort, another question came up with even more urgency.
“And more importantly... how did you sneak onto my ship without PROXY or I noticing?”
Maul cracked a faint smile, but his eyes flashed with a dangerous intensity.
“It's not the first time I've infiltrated a place where I'm not welcome,” he replied calmly. "Your ship isn't as safe as you think, kid. Your droid can process a thousand combat scenarios... but it can't anticipate what it doesn't understand."
PROXY turned his mechanical head toward me, "Excuse me, Master. I will review the security logs as soon as possible. My protocol did not contemplate intruders capable of bypassing my sensors."
“Clearly.”
I momentarily ignored the droid and focused on Maul.
“What do you want?”
The zabrak crossed his arms and studied me with his gaze.
“I overheard your little conversation,” he said. "You're putting together a team. A group strong enough to take on the Empire... and to find something even the Sith of old coveted."
My grip on the saber tightened. "So what, you come to offer us your help?
“Consider this, boy,” Maul replied, bowing his head barely. "Both you and I are targets of the Empire. We have both been betrayed. We both want answers."
“And we both want power,” I added sternly.
Maul smiled. “Of course.”
Silence lingered between us. I knew trusting him was dangerous. Maul was not an ally...he was a predator who hunted in the dark, and didn't hesitate to slit throats when the opportunity presented itself.
But I also knew that, at this point, he was right.
If I was going to take on the Empire... if I was going to find the Star Maps and get to Rakata Prime before they did... then I would need all the help I could get.
Even his.
I sighed.
“You give me no reason to trust you.”
“You don't need to trust me,” Maul replied. “You just need to ask yourself if you can afford to refuse my offer.”
I didn't answer right away. Not because I didn't have an answer...but because I already knew the answer.
The silence between us lingered, tense, fraught with possibility and danger.
My fingers barely loosened on the lightsaber, but I didn't turn it off.
Maul was not an ally. He was not someone I could trust. He was a predator, and like all predators, he would only stay close while prey was still useful to him. I had no illusions that his offer was motivated by anything other than his own ambition.
And yet...
He had managed to sneak onto my ship undetected by PROXY or me. That meant his skills were still formidable. He was stealthy, lethal and, most importantly, experienced in survival. The Empire had tried to kill him more times than I could count, and yet he was still alive.
That meant something. I had underestimated him.
Beyond his ego, his obsession with the past and his endless thirst for revenge, Maul was a survivor. And if I wanted to find the Star Maps before the Empire did, if I wanted to get to Rakata Prime without the entire galaxy turning against me, then I would need more than just my power.
I would need someone who knew how to move in the shadows.
I clenched my jaw. The idea of traveling with Maul disgusted me. Not because he was a Sith-I had spent my entire life among them-but because I knew his goal and mine were not the same.
He wanted the Mass Shadow Generator for himself. To use it.
I... I was going to destroy it.
But Maul didn't know that. He didn't need to know.
If I played my cards right, I could use it as much as he was trying to use me.
I exhaled slowly and, without turning off my saber, took a step forward.
“Let's say I take you up on your offer,” I said cautiously. “Let's say I work with you to find Rakata Prime.”
Maul tilted his head barely, expectantly.
“But there's something I want to make clear,” I continued, my voice firm. "Don't underestimate me. Don't try to betray me. Because if you do, I won't leave you another chance to keep breathing."
Maul's smile widened, as if he found my warning amusing rather than threatening.
“Oh, boy... I like you more than I thought I would.”
I gritted my teeth. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
Finally, I turned off the lightsaber.
Maul wasn't going to be my ally.
But maybe, for now, he could be my tool. And if he dared to betray me, well, I could always kick his ass again.
(Meanwhile elsewhere in the Galaxy...)
Luthen was in the back of his store, in his office, anonymously monitoring Imperial conversations. The dim light of the holographic projector flickered over his face, reflecting lines of intercepted data, fragments of encrypted communication and ISB patrol patterns.
There were always risks in spying on the Empire, but so far, his clandestine surveillance system had allowed him to stay one step ahead.
Until he heard a dull thud outside.
The dry, thudding sound reverberated through the walls of the premises, too loud to be the rustle of wind against the structure, too calculated to be an accident.
His body reacted before his mind. Immediately, he reached a hand under his trench coat, where his blaster rested in its holster. He unsheathed it in one fluid motion, keeping it glued to his side as he stealthily advanced toward the door. His steps were light, controlled, like a predator stalking in the gloom.
He paused beside the doorframe, sharpening his hearing.
Nothing.
He took a deep breath, smoothing his breathing, then spoke, keeping his tone nonchalant, wrapped in the mask of the exasperated merchant he wore so easily.
"Kleya, is that you? I told you to go home an hour ago. Don't make me throw you out, you know I don't pay overtime."
Although Luthen knew that Kleya had left to meet the mole they had at the ISB. So whatever it would have been wasn't her.
Silence.
Too much silence.
A bad feeling ran down his spine, and just as his instincts screamed at him to move, an object flew through the glass of the front display case with a sharp crack.
Luthen's reflexes saved his life.
He jumped back just as the device detonated, filling the room with an explosion of blinding white light. The boom bounced off the walls, accompanied by the pop of shattering glass and the vibration of furniture shaken by the shockwave.
"Damn it! A blinding grenade!"
Still with his vision blurred by the flash, he reached into one of his inner pockets and pulled out a pair of dark glasses, specially designed to block the effects of the grenade.
He quickly put them on and what he saw when his eyes readjusted made him curse silently.
Through the haze of dust and debris, tall, dark figures were entering his tent with mechanical precision. Their black armor absorbed the meager ambient light, their green visors emitting a spectral glow in the gloom.
Death Troopers.
But something was wrong.
They were not shooting to kill. They moved in tight formation, their blasters equipped with stun modes.
They hadn't come to eliminate him. They wanted to capture him.
Luthen didn't wait for them to speak.
He raised his blaster and opened fire.
Red shots lit up the tent in intermittent flashes. The first hit a soldier's chest, but the armor absorbed most of the impact. The second was more accurate, hitting the neck of the same trooper, who fell with a whimper distorted by his voice modulator.
But the others did not hesitate.
They moved into formation, firing with surgical discipline. Blue stun rings flew in his direction, forcing him to dive to the side, rolling behind a counter.
He felt the vibration of the impacts of the blasters burning the reinforced wood.
They wanted to take him alive.
That could be worse than dying.
His eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out. His tent had many entrances... but also many traps.
If the Empire thought they would capture him easily...they were about to discover their mistake.
The buzz of stun gunfire filled the air as Luthen slipped into the shadows of his own tent. He moved with precision, using every piece of furniture, every broken display case and every column as cover. The Death Troopers advanced in tight formation, their green scopes cutting through the gloom like predatory eyes.
He fired two more shots before darting behind a bookcase. An explosion of sparks jumped as the energy hits struck the metal where it had been a second before.
Think, Luthen. You can't win this fight, but you can survive.
His mind calculated escape routes while his body acted on pure instinct. The rear access. He had installed a safety mechanism for cases like this. A remote control on his belt would set off an explosive charge hidden in the wall, creating a distraction and a makeshift passage.
He slid his hand under his trench coat, felt the cold metal of the control and pressed the button.
A rumble shook the tent.
The back wall exploded in a shower of dust and debris, opening a hole big enough for him to escape.
He didn't stop to look back.
He bolted for the side street, feeling the heat of gunfire pass close behind him. He ran at full speed, dodging narrow alleys and decaying structures, blending in with the confusion of passersby fleeing the chaos.
The Fondor was near.
If he could make it to his ship, he still had a chance.
He slipped between the walls of a narrow passage, kicked in a service hatch and emerged into a hidden hangar where his ship awaited him, powered up and ready.
With a nimble leap, he climbed the access ramp and ran up to the cockpit.
"Prepare for takeoff. Now."
The system responded instantly, the panel lights illuminated, the engines roared loudly. The ship began to rise...
And then stopped dead in its tracks.
Luthen frowned and increased thruster power. The ship did not move.
He checked the systems. Nothing was malfunctioning.
Something-someone-was holding her back.
Internal alarms flashed with warnings of unstable power. She looked around the cockpit, trying to see what was holding it back, but there was nothing visible. There were no wires, no restraining devices.
Only the sensation of an invisible pressure clinging to the hull of the ship, preventing it from rising any higher.
A shiver ran down his spine.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Suddenly a rumble shook the ship, knocking him out of his chair. It had landed again after rising a few meters.
Meanwhile Luthen heard footsteps sounding on the roof of the ship, someone was trying to climb up. He tried to sharpen his hearing to hear where the footsteps were coming from, until suddenly they stopped.
For a few seconds nothing happened, until
HISS
A crimson colored blade of what appeared to be a lightsaber pierced the hull of the ship, it began to move in a circular pattern.
'It wants to penetrate the hull, huh. In that case...'
“Fondor activate self-destruct sequence, activation code 0-9-2-2-1-2-2.”
“Roger, activation sequence activated.” Said the ship's AI to which Luthen smiled.
The crimson saber continued its trajectory, the metal melting and sizzling under its incandescent edge. A perfect circle was beginning to take shape on the hull of the ship.
Luthen stared at the growing burn, his mind calculating every second. If it wanted to take him alive, it would make him pay for it.
“Fondor, estimated time to detonation?” he asked calmly.
“Forty-five seconds remaining.”
He smiled slightly. Enough to give him no escape.
But then, the system's synthetic voice was interrupted by another presence.
“Self-destruct sequence deactivated.”
Luthen felt a shiver run down his spine.What?
The monitors flickered, showing an error in the protocol execution. The ship's artificial intelligence had been overridden.
He looked around frantically, trying to figure out what had happened, until he heard the metallic sound of the hatch falling to the ground.
The hole in the helmet still smoked as the dark figure descended through it with a grace impossible for someone of his size.
The panels partially illuminated the black armor, the red glow of his saber reflecting off the imposing mask.
Darth Vader.
The air in the cockpit grew heavier, as if the very atmosphere itself trembled at his presence.
Luthen gritted his teeth. He was screwed.
But he wasn't going to make it easy for him.
In one swift movement, he drew his blaster, aimed it directly at his temple and pulled the trigger.
No shot was fired.
His hand trembled as he felt the invisible pressure wrap around his wrist, stopping his movement. His fingers went numb and the blaster shot out of his grip, floating in the air before falling heavily to the ground.
Luthen's chest constricted as the same force began to squeeze his throat.
He couldn't breathe.
He could not move.
Vader moved forward slowly, each step echoing with an overwhelming weight.
"Your destiny is not death, Rebel. At least...not yet." His voice was a deep echo, an unwavering sentence.
Luthen struggled in vain, his fingers clawing at nothingness as the darkness began to close his vision. His body demanded air, but the relentless pressure on his throat granted him only the cruelest of punishments: the certainty of his defeat.
Then, suddenly, the invisible claw gave way just enough for his lungs to fill with air all at once, sending a searing pang into his chest. He fell limply to the ground, his arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up. He coughed, spitting out air in desperation, but barely had time to catch his breath before he felt the biting cold of metal closing around his wrists.
Darth Vader had captured him.
Luthen closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a barely audible whisper,
“I'm sorry, Kleya.”
With one last discreet movement, he slipped a finger between the shackles and pressed a small button on the watch on his wrist. In that instant, his entire history disappeared.
His databases were purged, his files burned into oblivion, and a few meters away, in the bowels of his tent, a series of explosions reduced his sanctuary to ashes. Also wiping out the troops that were still in there.
If the Empire had him, he wouldn't let them have anything else.
