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Chapter Text

Zim went to the hanger bay and climbed into a shuttle, gesturing to a squad of stormtroopers to follow in their own ship. The Sith put in the coordinates and lifted off, flying out into the blackness of space.

Malachor was a dead world, all of its inhabitants killed thousands of years prior in the Great Scourge between the Jedi and a Sith witches dark forces. Nobody had won the battle, and all of its participants had been calcified when the Temple was activated.

Zim thought on this, a story he had been told by his Master many years earlier.

Two smaller ships, containing his troops, followed along behind his shuttle as he neared the planet after emerging from hyperspace. It hadn’t been too long of a journey, just a few minutes, but to Zim it had felt like hours.

He entered Malachor’s atmosphere and landed, softly touching down on the surface. He sat in the pilots chair for a few moments, then lowered the ramp and descended onto the surface, his soldiers already standing in formation and waiting for him.

“Orders, sir?” The stormtrooper Commander asked as he approached the Sith.

Zim looked around, reaching out with the Force, but sensing no other life nearby. Except… yes. A faint surge in the Force told him someone else WAS here, but far off. The feeling was gone in a heartbeat, but Zim still held on to that hope.

“Search the sector around us,” he ordered, turning away and looking off into the distance. “I sense a presence here with us.”

“Hostile, sir?” The trooper questioned, reloading his blaster and instructing his troops to do the same.

“Unclear,” Zim rasped, still searching his surroundings with the Force. “Be prepared for anything.”

“Yes, sir!” The Commander saluted. He turned to his men. “Alright, soldiers, you heard the general! Move out!”

“Wait,” Zim said. He slowly turned his body left, and stopped. The surge was strongest this direction. “This way. Follow behind me.”

They did as ordered, walking for some time behind their general, comms chattering quietly as they spoke with one another. They navigated over rocks and large hills, and Zim could hear them beginning to tire, though he hardly cared. Troopers were meant to be expendable, anyway. Everyone, including said troopers, knew this fact.

“Stop,” Zim instructed, halting in front of a large cave. He glared into its dark maw, sensing life beyond it. He gestured to his troops, “Two of you go in and check, the rest of you stay with me.”

The troopers at the front of the group began walking towards the cave uneasily, as if sensing the energy from within. One of them glanced back towards the group, and Zim sensed his fear, but di not say anything, only gesturing to continue forth into the black abyss.

Both Stormtroopers finally entered the cave, and the group waited for any sign of an enemy presence. A few minutes passed before Zim’s comlink chirped.

“Sir, we have visual on the threat.”

“Describe it,” Zim spoke into his comm, feeling the darkness growing slightly stronger. Whatever was in there was strong with the Force.

“It appears to be… a Zabrak, sir,” the trooper said after a moment’s hesitation. “Wait, he’s coming closer. We’ll try and- wait, wait!” With one final scream, the transmission cut out.

Zim dropped the comm and stared into the mouth of the cave, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. He had a feeling he would be needing it soon.

He gestured for the group to aim their blasters towards the cave, and the Stormtroopers approached slowly, forming a tight circle around the entrance to prevent the target from escaping.

“Hold,” Zim said, sensing the being approaching. Faint footsteps could be heard from within. Mechanical footsteps. Some kind of droid, perhaps? No, only living beings have Force abilities. But the dark energy radiating from the cave was strong. This threat, whatever it was, is alive,

Zim saw a faint yellow glow, and the outline of a body, and ordered his troops to open fire.

They began blasting immediately, and it was then that the figure activated their lightsaber and began fighting back. Some Stormtroopers were pulled into the cave by an invisible grip and sliced in half by the creature, while others were decapitated by a Lightsaber Throw,

The figure emerged fully from the cave and kept swinging, spinning and jumping around, wielding a double-bladed lightsaber, its glow a bright blood-colored red.

Then it came for Zim. The Irken hardly saw it coming until it was almost too late, activating his own lightsaber at the last second and blocking when the creature, definitely a Zabrak, leaped at him from above, nearly slicing his head off.

The remaining troopers tried to assist their leader, but were swiftly cut down by the enemy before they could really do anything to help.

Zim was forced to go on the defensive as the strikes became even more relentless and animalistic. He used Force Lightning once, but it was blocked and absorbed by the Zabrak’s lightsaber.

They clashed and parried for several minutes, neither gaining any ground over the other. The battle ended when Zim was caught in a Force Grip and thrown against a nearby boulder, pinned to the hard surface by an almost crushing hold.

“Who are you,” the Zabrak asked as he pointed his blade at Zim’s throat, “and why have you come here?”

Zim struggled against the grip, trying in vain to raise his arms enough to unleash a barrage of Force Lightning at his attacker, but could not gather enough strength to do so. “We’re the ones who found you, so why don’t you tell me who you are?”

The Zabrak seemed to consider this for a moment, then his eyes glistened with fury. “To what do I owe this unexpected intrusion?”

“I sense that you are powerful in the Dark Side of the Force,” Zim said, ignoring the Zabrak’s question, as the Zabrak had done to his. We are searching for an artifact that is rumored to be here on this planet. Perhaps you have knowledge to provide.”

Zim was released from the Force Grip, and as his feet hit the ground, the creature spoke, voice softer than before, as he deactivated his lightsaber. “I am here for the same purpose, but if we are to be in each other’s company, one must get to know the other. I am Maul. And you are?”

“I am called Darth Ceren, but you may also refer to me as Zim if you wish,” Zim said as he deactivated his own lightsaber and replaced it on his belt.

“What are you searching for, Ceren?” Maul asked curiously, walking closer.

“I am searching for the Sith Temple that is rumored to be here,” Zim responded hesitantly. “Do you know of it?’

Maul chuckled. “Ah, yes, the Temple. I do indeed know of its existence, but I have yet to discover its precise location. Perhaps we can help each other after all.”

“The rumors are truth, then?”

“Yes, very true,” Maul confirmed. “My former Master and I ventured here many years ago while I was still apprenticed to him. I have seen the Temple with my own eyes, but have since failed to remember its correct location. And when we find it, it will require two beings to unlock the doors, so you may be useful yet.”

Zim lingered on the Zabrak’s name for a minute, trying to remember past teachings on Darth Maul. “I know of you. They call you ‘The Shadow’ in stories my Master told me when I was younger. A warrior stalking his prey and defeating all of his enemies.”

Maul laughed lightly. “Oh, but I am not just a legend, young one,” he said with a hint of amusement in his tone. “Those are just words, and I am flesh and blood, just like you.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said curiously, “Tell me, Ceren, what became of your Master?”

“He was killed when his ship was shot down by Republic forces.” Zim explained after a moment’s hesitation. “I avenged his death, however, and killed all of his attackers.”

Maul nodded. “Very good, Ceren.” He turned away and began walking. “Come, and tell me more about your former Master. Your tale intrigues me.”

Zim hesitated, then followed the Zabrak into the cave, leaving the bodies of his troops behind, corpses still smoking slightly.

Chapter Text

As Maul and Zim walked further into the cave, the Irken listened as his companion told his tale.

“I was shot down while trying to flee the clones firing at my ship, and crashed here,” the Zabrak was saying. “My ship was irreparable, so I used what I could for parts to modify my legs,”

Zim looked down at Maul’s lower half, remembering the robotic footfalls he had heard earlier. “They are artificial?”

“Yes, very much so,” Maul confirmed. “My real ones were lost in battle many years ago, by a Jedi called…” he stopped, growling to himself, and continued, “Kenobi.”

Zim searched his memory for any mention of that particular name, but came up empty-handed. “That is not a name I am familiar with. Would you mind explaining your history with this Jedi?”

Maul turned away and faced the wall of the darkened cave,, the light streaming in faintly. The surrounding area was lit only by torches lit sporadically around them.

“I killed his Master in battle on Theed. I had nearly defeated them both, but I was arrogant, and that cost me a piece of my own flesh.” Maul growled again, turning back towards Zim. “I survived only on my hatred and pain, allowing it to fuel my mind and body. But it eventually consumed me.”

Zim stayed silent, the only sound being that of his breathing device as it hissed softly, pumping fresh oxygen into the Irken’s small lungs. His antennae twitched with excitement, filled with awe in The Shadow’s mere presence. He had so much to learn from this living legend.

“Pain is a great motivator, Ceren,” Maul continued. “Anger and loss are two things that you must allow to give you strength. Listen to the Dark Side, and it will guide you on your path. And if you suffer on that path, let yourself revel in your agony. Pain is a gift that must be embraced, and conquered.”

Zim nodded slowly, drinking in every word that reached his antennae. “I am honored to be in your presence, Lord Maul.”

Maul regarded him with a focused stare. “I am just flesh and blood. Mortal, and fallible to disease and death. If it bleeds, it can also be killed.”

“My former Master used to teach me about your fighting styles when hunting Jedi,” Zim said after the brief silence. “The way you choose to fight your enemies is very impressive. He explained that you utilized your knowledge of all forms, Jedi and Sith styles, and used them to create one of your own.”

“Yes,” Maul said with a chuckle, “that is very observant of your Master to teach you these things. They will be of use to you in the future.”

He examined Zim’s mask. “Forgive my bluntness on the matter, but my curiosity has the better of me. What became of your body that requires you to need assistance in drawing breath?”

Zim reached up and brushed his breathing mask. It hissed a little louder as he inhaled the specially modified oxygen being forced into his lungs. “It prevents me from feeling pain from past injuries. It keeps the agony away from me.”

Maul scowled at the response. “It will do you no good to hide from your pain, Ceren,” he said with a hint of disdain in his tone. “Your hatred and agony is a beast that must be fed, constantly nurtured, and trained to be the perfect weapon. Pain can mold you into a great warrior if used correctly, fueling your hatred and strength. You must allow it to show you the way to victory.”

“It cannot be completely removed, I am afraid,” Zim said, his voice sounding slightly like static, crackling and wavering. “It feeds directly into my body, and it would be fatal if removed.”

“Whatever became of you to have these injuries, do not let them hinder you, Ceren,” Maul said with a slight growl in his voice. “Only the weak hide from their suffering, only the weak fear the darkness. Look into the depths of your agony, and find the monster crawling within the shadows. Tame it and use it to attain your desires, and you will never know defeat.”

Zim watched silently as Maul strode over to a large boulder. “How strong are you in the Force?” The Zabrak asked him.

“My Master used to say that I-“

“Your Master’s words have no meaning to me,” Maul interrupted. “It is only through your own actions that I will see the truth.” He put a hand on the boulder. “Lift this rock, high above us.”

Zim shifted uncomfortably. “I have never lifted something so large such as that before. Only small things. My training was never completed.”

“I believe you are strong enough, Ceren,” Maul encouraged. “You must not let your own doubts consume your mind, they will take hold of you and devour your potential, leaving it weakened and broken.”

He again gestured to the large rock. “Lift this, and show me what you can really achieve.”

Zim sighed, the sound coming out like loud static on a television, and spread his legs, bent low, and focused. His arms slowly curled upwards as he concentrated, the boulder slowly cracking and groaning as it slowly rose out of the ground.

Zim struggled to continue lifting it, but his arms began to feel like jelly, and he felt the weight of the rock in his mind. It was so unbelievably heavy, and he found himself giving up before the rock was only halfway out of the dirt.

“I cannot,” he said breathlessly, his mask hissing louder as it poured heavy amounts of oxygen into his body. “I am not ready.”

“I will help you complete your training, but only if you have the desire to unlock your true potential,” Maul said patiently. Lifting one hand, the Zabrak effortlessly lifted the boulder high above their heads without seeming to even be out of breath.

He slowly lowered it back to the ground, Zim watching with an amazed expression, though it could not be seen with the mask covering his face.

“Now, try it again,” Maul instructed, “Use your anger, release your pain and allow it to guide your actions.”

“Lord Maul, I am too weak for such a task. My Master had only just taught me Force Lightning when he passed into the Force,” Zim pleaded. “I am not ready.”

“Those who are in doubt of their achievements are doomed to fail them,” Maul said, regarding his new apprentice with a look of disappointment. “Perhaps you need a little encouragement to help you.”

Maul lifted his arm again, and suddenly Zim’s airflow was cut off from his body. He tried to draw breath, but something was wrapped tightly around his throat. Something he couldn’t feel or see. The Force.

Rage burst inside of him. How DARE Maul attempt to harm him, how dare that insignificant, prideful-

“Yes, your anger is strong, I can feel it!” Maul said victoriously. “Use it! Lift it, and don’t stop until you have achieved that goal!”

Unable to breathe and growing frantic for air, Zim tried once more, his intense rage burning like a black hole inside of him, eating up everything else in sight.

The Irken lifted the boulder a little, then higher, higher still. It came fully out of the ground, and Zim groaned painfully with the effort of holding it into the air for such an extended period of time.

“Higher, Ceren,” Maul demanded, the invisible grip on Zim’s throat squeezing tighter. “You will not fail!”

All kinds of dark thoughts ran through Zim’s brain as he obeyed the command, lifting the rock high above the dead, blackened trees around them.

“Very good,” Maul praised, and the grip on his throat lessened just slightly. “Now lower it back down to the ground, without losing focus.”

Zim started to bring it back down slowly, feeling faint and weak.

“Do not doubt yourself!” Maul encouraged him. “If you fail to lower it, then you must start again! Steep yourself in your hatred and fear, it will be your guide! Let it consume you, help you!”

Zim fell to the ground onto his knees, still yearning for oxygen, but kept the rock in the air. Halfway there… he could do this…

“Channel your emotions!” Maul said intensely. “All your hate, all your pain, gather it to accomplish this task! Call upon the Dark Side, and it will be your teacher!”

Zim finally lowered the rock to the ground, and fell to the dirt as it settled back into place. He suddenly felt the beautiful, glorious rush of air return to his lungs as Maul released his grip on his throat.

Zim had never realized how much oxygen was important to him until he really, truly needed it.

“I am pleased with your progress, Ceren,” Maul praised him with a slight smile. “We will try again tomorrow, but for now, we must rest, and feast to regain our strength.”

The Zabrak strode back into the cave, and Zim followed behind him, still gasping down air while hateful thoughts swirled within his mind.