Chapter 2: Chapter 2
The streets of Mos Espa reeked of ion exhaust, spilled coolant, and something darker, thicker – the coppery stench of fresh blood clinging to the dry air. Anakin Skywalker’s boots scraped against the gritty sand-blown duracrete, each step sending jolts of agony through his wiry frame. His shoulders screamed, muscles burning like overstretched cables as he hauled the dead weight behind him. Talon’s unconscious form, draped awkwardly over a salvaged piece of plating he was using as a makeshift sled, seemed to grow heavier with every yard.
Corpses lay discarded like broken droids in the alleyways. Imperial troopers in their standard armor, their armor cracked and scorched. Local militia in mismatched gear. Civilians caught in the crossfire. Anakin kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight it ached. He’d seen death before, too much of it on Tatooine’s harsh surface and in the whispered nightmares of his past. This was different. This felt like the galaxy itself was tearing apart, chewing people up and spitting them out onto these filthy streets. He focused on the rasp of the plating over sand, the ragged sound of his own breathing, the faint, worrying rattle in Talon’s chest.
A harsh voice barked orders nearby, cutting through the low moan of the desert wind. "–thorough sweep! Check every kriffing doorway! She can't have gotten far!" Republic accent. Clipped. Authoritative. The sound of heavy, synchronized boots pounding the street echoed off the crumbling adobe walls. Close. Too close.
Anakin froze, pressing himself and the sled hard against the shadowed recess of a bombed-out moisture vaporator stall. His heart hammered against his ribs like a frantic tooka. Sweat stung his eyes, mixing with the grime coating his face. He peered through a gap in the shattered metal casing. A squad of Republic troopers, their armor pristine blue and white under the twin suns' harsh glare, moved with lethal efficiency down the main thoroughfare. Their blaster rifles swept side to side, checking alcoves, kicking open sagging doors. They were methodical. Relentless.
Who were they hunting? Her? He glanced down at Talon. Her red skin was caked with dust and dried blood, almost black in places. Her montrals were scraped, one lekku bent at an unnatural angle beneath her. Her black bodyglove was torn in a dozen places, revealing glimpses of intricate, swirling tattoos – dark, geometric patterns that seemed to writhe in the shifting light – and the slick, terrible wounds beneath. She looked utterly broken. Left for dead. A small part of him, the part hardened by Tatooine, whispered he should leave her. The Republic patrol meant trouble he didn’t need. But the bigger part, the part that remembered his mother’s kindness, Watto’s cruelty, the suffocating helplessness of slavery… that part couldn’t abandon her. Not like this. Not breathing.
The patrol turned a corner, their voices fading. Anakin didn’t wait. He gritted his teeth, dug his heels in, and hauled the sled forward with a burst of desperate strength fueled by something deeper than muscle. It felt like pushing against a starship’s inertia. A low groan escaped Talon’s lips, but her eyes remained shut.
The derelict slave hut huddled at the edge of the abandoned settlement like a dying beast. Its walls were pockmarked with blaster scorch marks and gaping holes, the roof sagging dangerously, half-collapsed onto the packed dirt floor inside. Anakin dragged Talon and the sled through the low, crumbling doorway, kicking aside debris – shattered pottery, a rusted chain. The air inside was thick, stifling. Dust motes danced sluggishly in the single beam of harsh white light spilling from a dying power cell jury-rigged to a frayed cable dangling from the ceiling. The light flickered erratically, casting long, leaping shadows that made the cramped space feel alive and hostile. The smell hit him: ancient dust, stale sweat, rust, decay, and underneath it all, the sharp, acrid tang of spilled blood and burnt flesh.
He lowered Talon as gently as he could onto a relatively clear patch of dirt near the flickering light source. His arms trembled with exhaustion. Kneeling beside her, he shrugged off the worn satchel he always carried – tools, scraps, bits and pieces pilfered or traded. Among the grease-stained wrenches and frayed wires were three battered medpacs, scavenged from the battlefield chaos earlier. Not much. Not nearly enough.
Working quickly, hands steady despite the tremor of fatigue, Anakin ripped open the first medpak. The antiseptic gel inside smelled aggressively sterile, clashing violently with the hut’s decay. He used a cleanish rag from his pack, dampened with precious water from his canteen, to wipe away the worst of the grime and clotting blood from the deepest wound on her side – a vicious gash that looked like it came from a vibroblade. Her red skin, revealed beneath the grime, was smooth except for the stark black ink of intricate Sith tattoos swirling across her abdomen and disappearing beneath the torn fabric of her bodysuit. More tattoos coiled around her arms like serpents. He tried not to stare, focusing on the wound. The gel hissed faintly as he applied it, staunching the slow ooze of blood. He pressed a coagulant pad against it, then bound it tightly with synthflesh tape. Another wound on her thigh, less deep but bleeding freely, received the same treatment. He splinted the obviously broken lekku as best he could with strips of durasteel banding and more tape.
Throughout, Talon remained deathly still, her breathing shallow but present. Anakin worked with the focused precision of a mechanic repairing a critical engine component – assessing damage, applying solutions, making do with what he had. Sweat dripped from his brow onto the dirt floor, leaving dark spots. His own aches faded into the background noise of his concentration. Outside, the distant wail of a repulsorlift siren echoed, followed by another burst of shouted orders. Closer this time.
"Kriff," Anakin muttered under his breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a fresh smear of grime and Talon’s blood. He hastily gathered the empty medpac wrappers, stuffing them deep into his satchel. He needed to hide. Block the doorway. Think. The flickering light from the power cell buzzed, dimmed almost to darkness for a heart-stopping second, then flared back weakly, painting Talon’s still face in stark relief.
In that uncertain light, her eyes snapped open.
Not drowsy. Not dazed. Sharp. Instantaneous awareness flooded them – a deep, unsettling crimson that seemed to absorb the feeble light rather than reflect it. They locked onto Anakin’s face, mere inches from hers, with an intensity that felt physical, like twin blaster barrels aimed point-blank. There was no confusion, only a swift, terrifying assessment. Her gaze raked over his sweat-streaked features, his rough clothing, his proximity, the half-applied bandage on her leg where his hand still hovered. Her expression remained utterly still, impassive, but Anakin felt a sudden, chilling pressure in his skull, a probing sensation like icy fingers scraping against his thoughts. It was gone as quickly as it came, leaving him breathless.
He jerked back instinctively, scrambling to put a foot of space between them. "Whoa! Easy! You're hurt bad. I... I found you. Dragged you here." His voice sounded too loud in the sudden, charged silence of the hut, betraying his youth and the adrenaline singing in his veins. He gestured vaguely at the medpacs, the bandages. "Trying to stop the bleeding."
Talon didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Her crimson eyes didn’t leave his face. Her breathing was shallow but controlled now. The flickering light caught the gleam of sweat and drying blood on her dusky gold skin, making the black Sith tattoos seem to writhe faintly. She looked less broken now, and infinitely more dangerous. Like a nexu assessing a potential meal.
"Found me," she repeated, her voice a low rasp, rough from disuse or injury, but carrying a core of hardened durasteel. It wasn't a question. It was a statement loaded with cold implication. Her gaze dropped momentarily to his hands, still stained with her blood and the antiseptic gel, then flicked back up, pinning him again. A ghost of something – calculation? Amusement? – flickered in those unnerving red depths. "Interesting."
A hand pressed against his throat and although there was no force behind it, the young Anakin felt threatened immensly. "Where is the Jedi and her troops?"
"Somewhere in the area searching for you. They just striked the slave Quarters, it is total choas out there. What are the Sith doing on a Hutt controlled world anyway?"
Talon considered answering but she knew the truth would hurt her. The Empire was a main airberter of slavery. And the boy clearly was a slave, his posture screamed it. Maybe he was one of the slaves who finally got their freedom when the Sith and Jedi got here. The truth is that she was here and she had failed. They were here for a weapon of the Czerka cooperation had created. A prototype that could double the destruction brought by their turbolasers. The Republic was now in posession of it. Worse yet, both sides of the galactic war had breached the neutrality of the Hutts, so the Empire would still have to suffer those consequences.
"Let us just say that Czerka had something that both of us wanted and leave it at that. Do you have an escape route?
"Not really. The Republic has us completely surrounded. Right now they are searching for us with probing droides."
Talon cursed. They couldn't exactly come out and destroy the droids without destroying them. "If I had a droid, I could maybe reprogram it and the other droids, they are linked after all."
Talon was surprised. Very few people in the galaxy were capable of this. So much so that the Empire paid good money to those few who could. Usually those splicers where highly sought individuals by both Republic and Empire. Only few of those slicers were loyal to a side, most allegiances lay with the highest bidder. But to have a what to appeared to be 12 year old have the same skills was phanomenal.
And a sign of immense Force potential. The Force was known to enhance pattern recognition immensely, many Force users could take a look at something and instantly recognize something they never seen before and quickly figure out how it worked.
Behind them, there was suddenly movement and the two moved quickly. Finding shelter in a destroyed alley, Talon with a burst of Force lightning disposed quickly of two Republic soldiers approaching them. Anakin stared in fascination and some horror at Talon and the two dead soldiers. Finding a scoute droid, Talon summoned it to her with the Force and then told Anakin to get to work. He tried his best and eventually he let the droid wander off.
"I've created a false signal, a major contingent imperial troops have been "sighted" in two other quadrants. The majority of the scouting droids have been sent to confirm. I predict that in an hour there will be no more Republic troops in the area. When they are gone, it will be a two hour long foot trip to the next city."
Talon looked at him as if he was mad. "Are you insane. You want to march through the desert with no coverage. We don't know if there will be sandstorms."
The boy looked undeterred. "We'll have to risk that."
Talon did not like it, but she had no better ideas. This entire operation was enough of a headach for her already. She had failed and she would be lucky if Darth Baras would still allow her to keep her head. She could only console herself with the fact, that the blame would fall to the higher ranking Sith of the mission, if they were alive. Talon begged they were, otherwise it would be a bad day for her.
When they thought they were safe, they made their move. The boy looked cheerful. Talon wondered why. "Cheer up, we are burning daylight and it seems we'll get to live another day." She shot him a glare. "Don't worry, you'll be rid of me soon enough. Now for that speeder, he ran in the direction of the Czerka building but found nothing."
Talon limped after him. "Found nothing. How utterly predicatable." Anakin pouted. "You don't have to be so grumpy." Talon wondered when the last time was someone dared to talk to her that way. But he had proven useful. "Fine, lead away, I don't know where to go anyway."
Anakin did so and through the Force, Talon could sense determination and joy coursing through him. "You are happy to leave this place. Why is this? And don't say that it had anything to do with the Republic or Empire."
Anakin looked at her simple. "I am free and the whole galaxy is in front of me, what is there not to be happy about?"
Talon considered. "The galaxy is at war. What do you plan to do with yourself? Splicers like you are in high demand in this economy."
Anakin stopped all of a sudden. "Please, tell me you are not trying to recruit me already. Lady, you are beatiful, but I didn't just escape live as a slave by Czerka to go to the Empire."
Talon could not help but smile. "Who said you would be a mechanic? I am suggesting that you train to become a Sith lord?" The boys eyes widened. "A Sith lord?"
"I am all but certain that you have the disposition to join the Order."
"I told you that I have no intention to join the Empire."
“The Empire is your only chance, really.You think the Republic would protect you? They worked hand in glove with Czerka, and Czerka have heavy connections with the criminal underworld. Everyone took their cut and called it business.
The Republic talks about freedom, but out here they trade it like spice. They’ll call you ‘citizen’ while you’re still in chains.
The Empire at least doesn’t lie about what it is. It’s built on power—nothing more, nothing less. But in the Empire, power is a door that anyone can open if they’re strong enough. That’s the difference.
In the Republic, power is inherited, hoarded, hidden behind Senate votes and credits. You’ll never touch it.
In the Empire, if you can seize it, it’s yours. Nothing is off the table if you have the strength to take it.
And only the Sith truly have power in the Empire. We’re the only ones who aren’t pretending that justice or mercy rule the galaxy. The Force doesn’t care about fairness—it cares about strength.
You have strength, boy. I saw it in your hands when you rebuilt that droid. You command machines like a Sith commands soldiers. You just haven’t learned what you are yet.”
Anakin had to admit the idea was tempting. There had been moments in his live where he wished he had the power of the Sith. Sometimes in his dreams, he would return to Tatooine and kill all those who worked for Czerka. But would he be the monster all Sith were, or could he stay true to himself?
Then again, what had the Republic ever brought him? A dead mother and the funding of Czerka. Talon may not yet know it, but the turbolaser update was devoloped by Czerka, but the money was from the Republic. Anakin didn't know why Nomen Karr saw the need for that, but he did.
"What is it in for you?" He stared at Talon. "What do you hope to gain by this?"
"Merely my master's mercy for the screwup this mission was." As soon as Anakin spoke she knew she had him.
-Korriban- Darth Baras Chamber--
Talon stared in amusement. Drazin was clawing at his neck as Lord Baras vented his frustration at him. "The Dark Council is not amused, Lord Drazin and neither am I for your failure."
"Mercy." He begged. "We didn't plan for Republic troops." Baras it seemed Baras did not have mercy. Drazin screamed as purple lightning descended at him. Then he dropped to the floor, half dead. "But I still have use of you, there is a mission coming up, highly dangerous. You will succeed or the fate that awaits you on Korriban will be worse than death. That and there other things you will do for me."
With a wave of his hand, two droids carried the uncouscious Sith lord away. When Baras turned his gaze on Talon, his eyes eventually turned to Anakin. "Who is this?"
"I found him on Tatooine. He worked for Czerka and has great potential in the Force. His mediclorian counts is higher than any I have ever encountered. North of 20000." Baras eyes widened. Then reality sat in.
"The war is reaching a stalemate. The prototype the Republic just got may change that, either way he is of no use of me now."
Talon stared at Baras shocked. Anakin had the potential to be one of the greateast Sith if his potential was harnessed. Then again, she remembered the mission that was just failed. Somehow she had the idea, that Baras had purposely taken action so the Empire failed. This failure would only harm his direct enemies. But to investigate, she would need the help of an friend.
"Next came the words she expected. "But his potential is too large to pass up on. You will train him and when this war is over, his training will continue under me."
For the first time in a long time, Talon wonders if Baras had lost it. Did he really trust her not to betray him? It is then the answer comes to her. Of course not, yet Baras simply did not see Anakin as a threat. The training of acoylotes may take years. His view on Anakin might change one day, but she promised herself if it came to that, that it would be too late. Baras was a good manipulator but utterly short sighted. He considered only the nearest future, not the implications his actions would have much much later down the road.
And when his actions eventually became a problem and his self-centered became appearent to even the biggest fool, she was sent to cut someones head off. But what bothered her is that Baras was a disease, he weakened the Empire and was ruled by the dark side and did not command it like he claimed.
The only thing she learned from him was the art of manipulation but nothing of strength, for how could she learn to defeat her enemies if Baras had to rely on treachery himself to defeat his enemies. No, he lacked strength in the Force and thought he could compensate with his political acummen. Talon hoped that one day she could show him how wrong he was in an Empire of Sith.
Outwardly she said: "Of course, Master. I will do my best to teach him the basics so he is ready when you pick up his training in time."
Anakin's first training session------Darth Baras private laboratory
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.Through passion, I gain strength.Through strength, I gain power.Through power, I gain victory.Through victory, my chains are broken.The Force shall free me.
"Every line matters, Anakin. ‘Peace is a lie’ — don’t chase comfort. The galaxy doesn’t reward patience, it rewards action. Passion… that’s your fire, your hatred, your love, your fear — everything you feel, everything that makes you human, you turn into strength. You learn to use it, not deny it.
Strength isn’t just the body or the lightsaber. Strength is understanding your mind, your enemies, the universe. It’s bending it to you — without hesitation.
Power comes when you act on that strength. Not later. Not when convenient. Now. You grasp opportunity. You crush weakness, inside and out.
Victory… that’s more than defeating your opponent. It’s surviving, thriving, creating something that endures. Most Sith fight for their own ego — they burn bright, die young, and leave nothing. Chains are never broken that way. The true Dark Side… frees you because you shape the world to last."
Anakin listened to every word. "But how do you horness the Force? I have always felt it but could never manifest it."
"The Force manifests when you call upon emotions. It is hard at first but the more you practice the easier it will be. Give it a try, visit the darkest place in your memory and reach out with your mind and feel the fog of the darkside.
Anakin tried to do so. He closed his eyes, recalling the day his mother died. There had been an escape attempt. But death would not be something that would be granted to his mother from the private affairs. No, Shin, the overseer had other uses for her.
She was randomly picked out and would suffer the consequences while those that tried would be wipped but ultimately remain alive.
"I do not see what you summoned me here for, Engeneer Skol." The Republic Senator said. There was a Twilek next to him. Then Anakin remembered the weapon being fired. Helplessness creeped into his mind, but he could do nothing. Czerka held him back, yet he could not look away as his mother in Republic armor being desintegrated.
Anakin's eyes ripped open. He could feel the anger coursing through him at the recollection of the memory. As the anger rushed through him, he looked at a sword in Talon's hand. Almost as an afterthought he could feel what must have been the dark side rush through him. He reached out, envoloping himself within the dark side. The blade flew in his hand and it felt right. "Good." Talon purred. "Keep the flame that the memory ignited in your heart. It will serve you well in the future. Practice in the following days to harness your anger and try to use the Force for today to move objects. It will be taxing at first, but will get easier."
Anakin nodded. His breathing was heavy, sweat covering his body. Yet he was shivering. "We will meet again tommorrow in the evening. Train well, apprentice."
Anakin nodded.