Star Wars: Starkiller

I barely had time to breathe when the speeder skidded in front of the antique store. The roar of the engines dissipated into the bustle of the city as I jumped out of the vehicle, feeling the vibration of the impact run through my legs.

The store was already closing.

I saw the employees at the entrance, gathering the last of their belongings before closing the doors. But when they saw me, their expressions changed. They recognized me instantly.

One of them opened the door quickly.

"What the hell are you doing?" the owner asked, his tone oscillating between anger and alarm.

I dodged him without answering, moving hurriedly through the interior of the shop to where I had last seen the armor. My hands found it instantly, and without wasting any more time, I began to put it on.

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't touch that."

"It's okay. I paid for it." I pulled out a bag full of credits and tossed it in his direction.

He caught it effortlessly, but his scowl didn't relax.

"I told you I was coming back, Kleya." I muttered as I tightened the straps and positioned my belt, securing my lightsaber.

I noticed the owner averted his gaze to her in search of an explanation.

"He booked it and said he'd be back later." Kleya clarified. Her voice was measured, but I sensed the tension in her expression. "I didn't know he was going to do this."

"May I ask what the hell is going on?" The owner asked, a hint of impatience in his voice.

I didn't respond.

My fingers slowly closed around the helmet. The metal was cool to the touch, its surface smooth but scarred by time. Yet there was something more than just the feel of the material against my skin.

A trace. An imprint in the Force.

I frowned as I watched it, as if I expected the helmet to return my gaze, as if at any moment it would whisper something to me through the invisible echoes that enveloped it. I took a deep breath and, with a last second of hesitation, put it on.

The seal was completed with a faint hiss, and in that instant, the world changed.

The sound around me filtered differently, more muffled, more controlled. The helmet's HUD came alive with a faint reddish glow, adjusting its interface to match my vision. But what was most surprising was what happened when I spoke.

"What's happening..."

My own voice stopped me.

The sound was deeper, distorted, almost inhuman.

"...Is that I'm leaving this planet. And, being honest, so should you."

I blinked into the helmet. I didn't recognize the voice that had just come out of my mouth. A shiver ran down my back.

Kleya, who had been watching me closely, caught my reaction instantly.

"The helmet has a voice modifier." He explained matter-of-factly. "It's to keep the wearer's identity secret."

I nodded slowly, still feeling strange hearing my own transformed voice. I spun on my heels and headed for the exit, but I had barely taken two steps when a firm voice stopped me.

"Wait a second."

I turned around immediately.

The store owner stood there, his posture tense, his expression hardened with distrust. In his hand, a blaster pointed at me with calculated precision.

My body tensed instinctively, but I made no sudden movement.

"What do you mean we should leave?" His gaze narrowed. "What did you do?"

The silence that followed was dense, charged with expectation.

My mind debated whether I should tell the truth. But after everything that had happened, after everything I had seen that day...it didn't matter.

So I said it.

"The Emperor is dead."

The words spread through the room like a dull thunderclap. The impact on their faces was immediate.

Both of their eyes widened. Kleya held her breath, while the store owner, while not lowering his weapon, let disbelief flash in his expression.

"Someone killed the Emperor?" His voice was almost a whisper. "And who did, you?"

His expression twisted in skepticism.

"That's bullshit." He spat with derision. "No one in the galaxy could get close enough to him to do it. And even if you did manage it, you'd have the entire Empire chasing you as soon as you tried to leave the scene."

I kept my stance firm.

"Then believe it." I replied calmly, letting the certainty in my voice speak for itself. "I have no reason to lie to you. How would that benefit me?"

The weight of my words settled in the air.

Kleya watched me warily, her posture rigid but less aggressive than before. I noticed how her tension eased, how her shoulders relaxed just a little. Even the store owner, after a few seconds of hesitation, slowly lowered his blaster.

But still, his gaze remained sharp.

"Are you sure about that?"

He took a step forward and, in an unexpected gesture, grabbed my arm, as if I needed something tangible to convince him.

"Yes." I replied without hesitation. "I saw it with my own eyes."

With a controlled movement, I pointed to my lightsaber.

"I removed the weapon from his abdomen myself."

The owner held my gaze, searching for any trace of a lie in my words. Time seemed to dilate between us. And then, suddenly, he let out a dry, incredulous laugh.

"For God's sake..." he muttered, staggering to a nearby chair. He dropped into it with a heavy sigh, running both hands over his face.

I watched as a smile slowly tugged at his lips, a mixture of amazement and something that looked like... relief.

Finally, he lifted his head and looked at me with intensity.

"Before you go... follow me for a second."

He stood up with a suddenly determined air and headed toward the back of the store.

I frowned.

"What for?"

"I heard you were looking for a specific world." His tone sounded more intrigued than before.

My senses immediately sharpened.

"How do you know that?"

The owner smiled sideways, not looking out of his way.

"Let's just say I have my sources." His answer was deliberately cryptic.

I eyed him suspiciously, every fiber of my being telling me not to trust him entirely. But before I could press him further, the man activated a holographic projector on a table cluttered with ancient artifacts.

The blue beam of light turned on, and a planet appeared before my eyes.

My heart stopped for a second.

I recognized it instantly. It was the same one I had seen in my vision.

"Malachor V."

The owner's voice rang with a mixture of fascination and respect.

"It's quite famous among historians. It was the place where the Mandalorian Wars ended."

His words echoed in my mind like a distant echo.

Mandalorian Wars...

My memories churned within me, scattered fragments of information emerging to the surface.

"I believe I had studied a holo-book in the past that spoke briefly of them." I replied finally, vaguely.

The man nodded with a slight smile, as if he had expected that answer.

"Yes, I'm not surprised you didn't know the planet. If you only studied them on the surface, you probably didn't know the details."

His tone changed.

He cleared his throat and his posture became more formal, almost like that of a professor about to begin a lesson.

I folded my arms, trying not to show too much impatience. I wasn't here for a history lesson, but....

Something in his tone made me fall silent.

"Approximately over 3,900 years ago, on Malachor V, the battle was fought that was once believed to end the Mandalorian Wars. Both the Old Republic and the Mandalorians assembled the vast majority of their fleets for what both sides considered the final showdown. The fighting was fierce. Millions of Republic soldiers and Mandalorian warriors died, along with thousands of Jedi who took part in the fray."

My mind began to visualize the scene. A sky covered with warships, explosions lighting up the dark atmosphere of the planet, transports descending with Republic troops, while Mandalorians charged in their beskar armor. The Jedi...

The Jedi were fighting there too. What would the Jedi of that time have been like? Would they have been very different from the ones I have encountered?

"In the midst of the fighting," the owner continued, "a Jedi Knight named Revan, who had led the Republic's efforts and had been primarily responsible for getting the Jedi Order involved in the war, boarded the Mandalorian flagship. On it was their leader, Mandalore the Ultimate. Revan challenged him to a death match... and won."

Another Jedi. Another warrior.

My mind conjured up the image of a hooded man, saber in hand, facing a formidable foe amidst the chaos of battle.

Revan.

That name... I had heard of him before. Not in the records of the Empire, but in whispers. In ancient records. A Jedi who became a Sith and then returned to the light.

But then, a doubt came over me, forcing me back to the present.

"Hey, great story, but why are you telling me this?"

The guy smiled reassuringly.

"That's my point, be patient."

I snorted and nodded.

"However," he continued, "despite the death of their leader, the Mandalorians did not surrender. In fact, it appeared that their army had the upper hand in the battle. The Republic and the Jedi, desperate to end the war, made a drastic decision: they used a devastating weapon known as the Mass Shadow Generator."

My thoughts paused.

A weapon?

The subject's tone changed, becoming more serious.

"The exact effects of the weapon vary according to sources. Some say it collapsed the planet in on itself. Others, that it created a permanent gravitational distortion. But the one thing historians agree on is that Malachor V was virtually destroyed. The energy released wiped out the Mandalorian military, the Republic fleet...and even the Jedi who were on the surface."

My breathing slowed.

A weapon capable of wiping out entire armies?

The Republic had used something like this?

What kind of desperation had driven them to such an extreme?

More importantly...

Why had he never heard of this?

This was not just any event. It was a catastrophe on an unimaginable scale. A mass genocide perpetrated not only against the Mandalorians, but against their own people.

"So that explains why the planet seems to be... compressed." I muttered.

"Exactly. What you see today is not a normal world. It's the result of the catastrophe the Mass Shadow Generator caused, altering both the planet's surface and atmosphere."

I gulped.

If the Republic had been capable of something like this... What did that tell me about the Empire?

"No one lives there?" I asked finally.

Luthen shook his head.

"The weapon left the planet uninhabitable. If you plan to go, I'd recommend wearing a protective suit. The atmosphere is likely to be toxic."

To which I nodded. 'So who was that who appreciated in my vision?' I wondered internally, as the image of the zabrak with the dual lightsaber came to my mind.

"Well, thank you very much for the history lesson... and the warning, sir..."

The guy let out a slight chuckle.

"Luthen. You can call me Luthen, kid."

I smiled under the helmet. Even though he couldn't see it.

"Well, in that case... I'm off."

I took a step toward the exit, but his voice stopped me.

"Wait."

I stopped in my tracks and turned around.

Luthen was watching me with a calculating expression, his gaze sharp as if he was assessing all possibilities before speaking.

Finally, he took a step forward and crossed his arms.

"If you're going to go there, you'll need a ship." His voice was firm, but with a tinge of pragmatism. "I have one that might fit you.

It's not very comfortable and it's designed for a single crewman, but it should be enough to get you where you need to go."

My interest flared immediately, a spark of anticipation stirring within me. Luthen gave a slight nod, gesturing for me to follow him.

We passed through a narrow hallway until we reached a back door hidden behind a shelf filled with antique artifacts. Luthen entered a code into the panel and the door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing an inconspicuous hangar, carefully hidden from prying eyes.

Inside, two ships rested in the dim light of the fluorescent panels.

The first was large, with streamlined lines and a reinforced hull, probably a light-class cruiser modified for covert operations.

However, my attention was immediately diverted to the second.

An old Republic Y-Wing.

Its hull showed scars of time and battle: patched armor plates, exposed wires in certain areas, and carbon marks around the engines. It was evident that it had been through many hands, and yet its structure was still sturdy, resilient, ready to launch into the vacuum of hyperspace.

Luthen walked over and rested a hand on the fuselage with an air of familiarity.

"Here she is." His voice rang with a certain affection for the ship, as if he were a veteran talking about an old comrade. "She's not pretty, but she's strong enough to get you where you need to go."

I approached slowly, running a gloved hand over the metal surface. I felt the roughness of wear, the coldness of steel under my fingers. A strange sensation coursed through me, a mixture of anticipation and wariness.

"Luthen...thank you so much. I don't know what to say."

The man gave a lopsided smile, his expression as inscrutable as ever, but with a hint of satisfaction in his gaze.

"Then don't say anything." His tone became almost conspiratorial. "Consider it a gift for ridding this galaxy of Palpatine."

I remained silent, taking in his words. Finally, I nodded. Though my helmet hid any expression, I knew Luthen understood that I was smiling at him.

Minutes later, I was already in the cockpit of the Y-Wing, adjusting the controls as the ship roared to life beneath my hands. The hum of the engines filled the hangar and, with a last glance at Luthen through the cockpit glass, I lifted off. The ship ascended, piercing the atmosphere and hurtling into the cold vacuum of space.

My destination: Centax-1.

I couldn't leave PROXY alone there after all, plus I had to go back for the Rogue Shadow.

The ride was uneventful, and upon arrival, I descended into the same hangar where I had left the Rogue Shadow. As soon as I landed, I stepped out of the Y-Wing and walked steadily back to my original ship.

As soon as I crossed the hatch, a familiar voice greeted me.

"Oh, Master, it's great to see you again."

PROXY stood there, his photoreceptors glowing with a yellowish glow as his tone denoted almost genuine enthusiasm.

"It's good to see you again too, PROXY." I replied with a tinge of weariness in my voice as I made my way to the pilot's seat.

The droid took my response as a cue and moved with precision to the controls, its mechanical joints emitting a faint hum.

"PROXY, set course for Malachor V."

The droid turned his head abruptly, his tone taking on a note of doubt.

"Are you sure, master? I know you are very resilient, but if you go there..."

"Easy, PROXY." I interrupted him calmly, though my voice made it clear that my resolve was firm. "I know what I'm doing. I can handle it."

The droid was silent for a moment before nodding.

"The coordinates for Malachor V are already inserted, Master."

"Thank you, PROXY."

With a slight adjustment to the controls, the Rogue Shadow lifted out of the hangar and glided smoothly out of Centax-1's atmosphere. In front of me, the black infinity of space stretched out like an unfathomable abyss.

I pressed the hyperdrive lever and, in a flash of light, we disappeared in the direction of the dark, forgotten world of Malachor V.

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