The Resolute Dawn cut through the void of hyperspace, its hull humming with the familiar vibration of faster-than-light travel. The ship was a modified Consular-class cruiser, with sleek and elegant design, its interior retrofitted with upgraded systems and comfortable quarters that made long journeys bearable.
The cockpit was very spacious, with wraparound viewports that currently displayed the swirling blue-white tunnel of hyperspace, that mesmerizing cascade of light and energy that never failed to inspire a sense of wonder.
I sat in the pilot's seat, my hands resting lightly on the controls, though there was little to do during hyperspace transit except monitor the navicomputer and ensure we stayed on course. The coordinates for Lotho Minor were locked in, the route calculated to avoid major shipping lanes and CIS ports. We had a few hours before we'd drop back into realspace, a few hours to prepare ourselves for what we were about to face.
Behind me, in the main cabin, I could sense Anakin and Derren through the Force. Both were deep in meditation, their presences calm and centered, though I could feel the undercurrent of tension that ran through Anakin like a live wire. His anxiety was palpable through our Force bond, a tight knot of emotion that he was trying to unravel through meditation and breathing exercises with Derren who picked up the same feeling I did.
I understood his feelings completely. This wasn't just another mission, or another enemy to face. This was very personal for him. This was the monster who had haunted his nightmares for years, the killer who had taken Qui-Gon Jinn from him when he was just a child. The fear, the anger, the desperate need to prove himself worthy of the faith Qui-Gon had shown in him, all of it swirled together in Anakin's heart, creating a storm that threatened to overwhelm him if he wasn't careful.
But Anakin was strong. Stronger even than he sometimes gave himself credit for. And he had learned, over the years of training and fighting side by side with me, how to channel those emotions, how to use them without being consumed by them. I had faith in him. I had to that's what the Jedi of the original timeline failed him in. Among other things that was on Anakin and the council both equally.
I closed my eyes, letting my consciousness drift into the Force, entering that meditative state that of the void world. The cockpit around me faded, the physical world receding as I opened myself to the deeper currents of the Force, to the vast ocean of energy that connected all living things.
And then I saw them.
The Force lights light up the black lightless void.
Even in hyperspace, even while traveling faster than light itself, the Force lights were visible to my inner sight.
The experience was surreal, almost dreamlike every time I did it. The Force lights seemed to streak past me as we traveled through hyperspace, creating trails of color that painted the void with impossible beauty. Blues and greens and golds, purples and whites and silvers, every shade of color imaginable, each one unique, each one telling a story.
And right now, I was using it to track our target.
Maul.
His Force light was there, distant but unmistakable, a crimson beacon that pulsed with unstably. The color itself was telling, deep red shot through with veins of yellow, like molten metal cooling and cracking. It flickered erratically, sometimes flaring bright with rage and hatred, other times dimming to almost nothing, as if the flame that sustained it was on the verge of guttering out completely.
Over the years, I had watched that light from afar, monitoring it periodically to ensure Maul remained where he had fallen. And over those years, I had seen it grow more and more unstable, the once-powerful Sith Lord's presence in the Force fragmenting and deteriorating. It was to be expected, given what he had endured, from being cut in half, falling into the depths of Naboo's reactor shaft, somehow surviving through sheer hatred and willpower, only to end up on Lotho Minor, that toxic wasteland of garbage and despair.
But I believed that finding him now, a few years earlier in the timeline than in the original Star Wars canon I remembered from my past life, might work in our favor. His mental state, while clearly damaged, might not be as far gone as it would have been if we'd waited. There might still be enough of the man he once was, buried beneath the madness and pain, to reach. To save.
Or at least, that was what I hoped.
I focused on that flickering crimson light, feeling its chaotic pulse, its desperate clinging to existence. Maul was alive, but barely. He was a dying star, collapsing in on itself, sustained only by the nuclear fire of his hatred. And we were about to walk into that inferno.
The sensation of viewing the Force lights while traveling faster than light was disorienting in a way that was hard to describe. It was like watching the universe from outside of time, seeing past and present and future all layered together, all existing simultaneously. The Force lights didn't just show me where beings were, they showed me where they had been, where they might be, the paths they could take and the choices that would define them.
It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
I opened my eyes, returning to the physical world, to the cockpit and the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace. My hands were steady on the controls, my breathing calm and measured. But inside, I felt the weight of what we were about to do, the responsibility of the choice I had made to seek out Maul, to try to redeem him rather than simply eliminate him.
Was I doing the right thing? I honestly didn't know. But I knew I had to try.
The navicomputer chimed softly, indicating we were approaching our destination. I reached forward and began the deceleration sequence, feeling the ship shudder slightly as it prepared to drop out of hyperspace. Behind me, I sensed Anakin and Derren stirring, their meditation ending as they felt the change in the ship's motion.
"We're almost there," I called back to them, my voice steady despite the tension coiling in my gut.
A moment later, the Resolute Dawn dropped out of hyperspace, and the swirling blue tunnel collapsed into the star-filled void of realspace. And there, hanging in the darkness before us like a festering wound, was Lotho Minor.
The planet was a nightmare made manifest.
From orbit, it looked like a massive ball of rust and decay, its surface covered in layers upon layers of discarded technology, broken ships, and industrial waste. There were no oceans, no forests, no signs of natural life, only the endless sprawl of garbage that had accumulated over centuries, dumped here by countless civilizations who saw this remote world as nothing more than a convenient trash heap.
The atmosphere was thick with pollution, a sickly yellow-brown haze that obscured much of the surface. Occasional flashes of light marked the locations of processing facilities, massive industrial complexes that burned and crushed and melted the waste, extracting whatever valuable materials could be salvaged before dumping the rest back onto the ever-growing mountains of refuse.
And the smell.
Even through the ship's air filtration systems, even before we entered the atmosphere, I could sense it, a nauseating mixture of rot and rust, of burning plastic and decaying organic matter, of chemicals and toxins and death. It was a smell that seemed to seep into everything, that clung to the back of the throat and made breathing an act of will.
"Force help us," Derren muttered as he and Anakin entered the cockpit, both of them staring at the planet with expressions of disgust and disbelief. "That's where we're going?"
"That's where Maul is," I confirmed, my hands already working the controls to begin our descent. "Welcome to Lotho Minor, the galaxy's dumping ground."
Anakin moved to stand beside my chair, his blue eyes fixed on the planet below. Through our bond, I could feel his emotions shifting, the anxiety giving way to grim determination. "I can sense him," he said quietly. "Even from here. His presence in the Force is... wrong. Twisted."
"That's what years of hatred and madness will do to you," I replied, guiding the ship into the upper atmosphere. The hull began to shake as we hit the first layers of turbulence, the toxic air buffeting us with surprising force. "Remember, Anakin, the man we're about to face isn't the same Sith Lord who killed Qui-Gon. He's a broken shell of that person, driven mad by pain and loss. Don't underestimate him, but don't let your memories of who he was cloud your judgment of who he is now."
Anakin nodded, his jaw tight. "I understand."
As we descended deeper into the atmosphere, the shaking intensified. The viewports were quickly obscured by the thick, polluted air, reducing visibility to almost nothing. I had to rely on the ship's sensors and my connection to the Force to navigate, following the faint pull of Maul's presence like a beacon in the darkness.
The stench grew worse as we descended, seeping through the air filtration systems despite their best efforts. It was a physical assault on the senses, making my eyes water and my stomach churn. Beside me, Derren made a gagging sound, covering his nose and mouth with his hand.
"Man, this place stinks," he complained, his voice muffled. "Why aren't the ship's air filters working?"
"They are working," I replied, my own voice strained as I fought against the nausea. "This is just what Lotho Minor smells like. The entire planet is one massive garbage dump. The air is toxic, filled with chemicals and decay. We'll need to use Force breathing techniques once we're outside, or we won't last long."
Anakin placed his hand on my shoulder, and I felt a pulse of support through our bond. "You sense him too?" he asked, his voice low and focused.
"Yes," I confirmed, removing the eye patch that covered my left eye. The moment I did, the world shifted, my vision splitting between the physical and the metaphysical. With my right eye, I saw the cockpit, the controls, the murky atmosphere outside. With my left eye, I saw the Force itself, the swirling currents of energy, the shatterpoints that marked weaknesses and critical junctures, and most importantly, the Force lights of living beings.
And there, burning like a dying ember in the darkness, was Maul's crimson light.
"It's hard not to sense him when you know what to look for," I said, my voice taking on a distant quality as I focused on that flickering presence. "It's sad, like a dying star, but I need to narrow down his Force signature to find him exactly."
Anakin raised his other hand, reaching out with me into the Force. I felt his presence merge with mine, our connection through the Force bond allowing us to combine our perceptions, to see more clearly together than either of us could alone. It was a technique we had practiced countless times, a synchronization of awareness that made us far more effective as a team.
And suddenly, Maul's crimson Force light shone more clearly, no longer obscured by the chaotic background noise of the planet's toxic environment. I could see it now with perfect clarity, a pulsing, flickering flame of hatred and pain, clinging desperately to existence, refusing to die despite the agony that sustained it.
"We found him," Anakin said, his voice carrying a note of grim satisfaction.
I nodded, adjusting our course to head directly toward that beacon of darkness. "Yeah. Let's land, but be careful. This place has more than just Maul to worry about."
Derren, who had been watching our exchange with interest, spoke up. "What else is down there?"
"Scavengers, mostly," I replied, guiding the ship through a narrow canyon formed by towering walls of compacted garbage. "Creatures that have adapted to survive in this toxic environment. Some of them are dangerous. And there are also automated defense systems from some of the crashed ships, still active after all these years. We need to stay alert."
"Understood," Derren said, his hand moving to rest on the lightsaber at his belt. "You lead the way, Cain."
I found a relatively stable landing point, a flat expanse of compacted metal and debris that looked like it could support the ship's weight without collapsing. The landing struts extended with a hydraulic hiss, and the ship settled onto the surface with a heavy thud that sent vibrations through the deck.
For a moment, we all just sat there, staring out at the desolate landscape visible through the viewports. There was no sun here, or at least, no direct sunlight. The thick clouds of pollution and the constant emissions from the processing facilities blocked out the sky, casting everything in a perpetual twilight. The only illumination came from the distant glow of those facilities, their fires painting the underside of the clouds in shades of orange and red, like a permanent sunset that never quite arrived.
It was a vision of hell, a world where hope had died long ago.
"Well," I said, standing up from the pilot's seat and stretching my arms above my head, feeling my joints pop after the long flight. "Let's go meet a Sith Lord."
We gathered our equipment quickly and efficiently. Lightsabers were checked and secured at our belts. Comlinks were tested to ensure they were functioning properly. I pulled on a light cloak to protect against the toxic air, though I knew it would do little good. Anakin and Derren did the same, their expressions grim and determined.
Before we opened the airlock, I turned to face them both. "Remember, use Force breathing techniques at all times. The air here is toxic. It won't kill you immediately, but prolonged exposure will cause serious damage. Keep your connection to the Force strong, and let it filter out the worst of the toxins."
They both nodded, and I could see them centering themselves, drawing on the Force to prepare their bodies for the hostile environment. Force breathing was an advanced technique that allowed a Force user to survive in environments that would be lethal to normal beings, underwater, in vacuum, or in this case, in a toxic atmosphere. It required constant concentration and a strong connection to the Force, but it was essential for what we were about to do.
I took a deep breath, feeling the Force flow through me, and then opened the airlock.
The smell hit us like a physical blow.
It was worse than I had imagined, worse than anything I had experienced before. The stench of rot and rust and burning chemicals was so overwhelming that for a moment, I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except fight against the urge to vomit. Beside me, I heard Derren gagging, and even Anakin, who had grown up on the harsh desert world of Tatooine, looked pale and shaken.
But we pushed through it, using the Force to filter the air, to protect our lungs and bodies from the worst of the toxins. After a few moments, the nausea subsided to a manageable level, though the smell remained a constant, oppressive presence.
We stepped out onto the surface of Lotho Minor, and the full horror of the place became apparent.
Everywhere I looked, there was garbage. Mountains of it, stretching as far as the eye could see. Derelict ships, some as large as buildings, lay broken and rusted, their hulls torn open to reveal the decaying machinery within. Discarded droids, their photoreceptors dark and lifeless, were piled in heaps like the bodies of fallen soldiers. Twisted metal beams jutted from the ground at odd angles, creating a maze of obstacles that made navigation treacherous.
And the ground itself was unstable, a shifting mass of compacted refuse that could give way without warning, plunging the unwary into hidden pits filled with who-knew-what horrors.
The air was thick and heavy, pressing down on us like a physical weight. The temperature was uncomfortably warm, heated by the constant burning of waste in the processing facilities. Sweat began to bead on my forehead almost immediately, mixing with the grime and dust that seemed to coat everything.
"This way," I said, my voice muffled by the oppressive atmosphere. I followed the Force light flickering in the distance, that crimson beacon that marked Maul's location. My left eye showed me the shatterpoints as well, the fractures in reality that marked critical junctures and weaknesses. They were everywhere here, this entire planet a massive shatterpoint, a place where the natural order had been so thoroughly disrupted that reality itself seemed fragile.
We moved carefully through the jagged wreckage, our footsteps crunching on broken metal and shattered glass. The landscape was a nightmare of sharp edges and hidden dangers, every step requiring careful attention to avoid injury. Anakin and Derren followed close behind me, their hands near their lightsabers, ready to ignite them at the first sign of danger.
As we walked, I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer number of possibilities I could see with my left eye. The shatterpoints weren't just showing me the present, they were showing me the future, or rather, multiple possible futures, all layered on top of each other like transparent images stacked one upon another.
I saw Anakin killing Maul, his lightsaber piercing the fallen Sith's heart.
I saw myself killing Maul, my blade severing his head from his body.
I saw Maul killing us, his madness giving him a desperate strength that overwhelmed our defenses.
I saw us capturing Maul, bringing him back to Tython, attempting to heal his broken mind.
I saw Maul escaping, disappearing back into the depths of Lotho Minor, lost forever.
Each possibility was clear and vivid, each one feeling equally real, equally likely. It was disorienting, overwhelming, like trying to watch a dozen holovids at once, each one showing a different story. I had to force myself to focus, to narrow my vision, to see only the present moment and the immediate path ahead.
This was the danger of the shatterpoint ability, I realized. It wasn't just about seeing weaknesses, it was about seeing possibilities, about perceiving the branching paths of fate. And if I wasn't careful, I could lose myself in those visions, become paralyzed by the infinite choices and outcomes that stretched before me.
I closed my left eye for a moment, taking a deep breath, centering myself in the Force. When I opened it again, I focused only on the immediate shatterpoints, the ones that mattered right now, the unstable ground beneath our feet, the weakened support beams that could collapse at any moment, the path that would lead us safely to our destination.
Better.... Much better.
"You okay?" Anakin asked, his voice carrying a note of concern. He had sensed my momentary disorientation through our bond.
"Yeah," I replied, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just... adjusting. This eye shows me a lot more than I'm used to. It's taking some getting used to."
He nodded, understanding. "Take your time. We're not in a rush."
We continued forward, descending deeper into the labyrinth of garbage and decay. The path led us toward a collapsed mining rig, a massive structure that had once been used to extract valuable materials from the waste but had long since been abandoned. It was half-buried in a pile of refuse, its metal framework twisted and broken, creating a gaping wound in the landscape that descended into darkness.
As we approached, I noticed the fractures around Maul's Force light beginning to pulse more intensely, like a heartbeat growing stronger. We were getting close.
"This way," I said, pointing toward the collapsed structure. "He's down there."
We descended into the gaping metallic wound carved into the bedrock, our footsteps echoing in the confined space. The walls around us glowed faintly with residual heat from the processing facilities above, and the surfaces were slick with moisture and filth. The smell was even worse here, concentrated in the enclosed space, something between rotting flesh and death, a stench that seemed to cling to the back of the throat and refuse to let go.
"Seriously," Derren said, his voice strained as he fought against the nausea, "how can someone who was split in half survive in a place like this for years? I'm surprised he didn't die from an infection first, or starvation."
I continued to walk forward, my eyes scanning the darkness ahead, but I spoke with a sense of distinct dread. "Hate is a powerful feeling. It burns powerfully in the Force. There was once a Sith Lord who survived death through sheer hatred several times over, and with his control over the Dark Side, his name was Darth Sion. He would get struck down time and time again, but his broken body would keep moving."
Derren looked awestruck, their expressions a mixture of fascination and horror. "How does someone beat a guy like that?" Derren asked.
I halted, then turned my head slightly to look at the two behind me. My golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness of the tunnel, reflecting the dim light from above. "The most straightforward way is to sever his connection to the Force. That's easy in theory, but in an era where not many Jedi were around, or knew how to do it, that was basically impossible."
Anakin spoke up, clearly thinking he had the easiest solution. "Then you just have to beat him until nothing's left, or destroy his body completely."
I chuckled quietly, the sound echoing strangely in the confined space. "That might have worked, but he was known as the 'Lord of Pain,' so good luck outlasting him if you were an average Jedi."
Anakin, hearing that, had a look of disbelief on his face. "Sounds like he was good at dealing pain more than taking it."
I shook my head. "The exact opposite, actually. But he knew how to deal in death as well. By channeling his agony and hatred into the Dark Side, it allowed him to defy death and hold his shattered, decomposing body together through sheer willpower and rage, making him effectively immortal until he chose to let go. And he was in constant, excruciating pain from his destroyed body being held together, which became the very source of his power and unnatural immortality."
Derren sighed, his expression troubled. "Please tell me someone or something beat this guy."
I nodded, showing a faint smile, and continued to move forward through the tunnel. "He was defeated by a Jedi Exile. She helped convince him to release his grip on his pain and rage, allowing him to finally die in peace."
The story seemed to resonate with both of them, and I could feel through the Force that they understood the parallel I was drawing. Maul, like Sion, was being sustained by his hatred, by his refusal to let go of his pain and anger. And like Sion, he might be redeemed if someone could reach him, could convince him to release that grip and find peace.
Or he might not. That was the risk we were taking.
We arrived at a corner where the tunnel opened into a larger chamber. A faint light could be seen ahead, filtering through cracks in the walls and ceiling. And then we saw shadows moving against the wall, a flicker of motion accompanied by the sound of scraping metal.
As we prepared ourselves, hands moving to our lightsabers, we turned the corner slowly, carefully.
And there, hunched in the far corner like a wounded animal, was a shivering creature. Pieces of scavenged cybernetics and junk clung to his twisted body, creating a grotesque amalgamation that looked like a serpent and a spider mixed into one nightmarish form.
I knew it was Maul.
His horns were jagged and long, more pronounced than I remembered from the memories I had His red skin, marked with the distinctive black Zabrak tattoos, was pale and sickly, drained of color from years without sunlight, from malnutrition and sickness. His eyes burned yellow with madness and fury, but there was something else there too, a desperate, animal fear, a primal instinct to survive at any cost.
He muttered to himself in stuttering, broken tones, his voice hoarse and raw: "Far above, far below. What was once great is rendered small... Jin... Jin... Must... Kill..."
The words sent a chill down my spine. Even in his madness, even after all these years, Maul's hatred for Qui-Gonn persisted "Jin," as he called him in his delirium, remained the core of his existence. Like it did in the original timeline like it did when it was originally Obi-Wan. It was the fuel that kept him alive, the fire that refused to be extinguished.
I crouched behind a broken beam, motioning for silence. "There he is," I whispered.
Derren exhaled slowly, his eyes wide as he took in the sight before us. "That's Maul? I thought he'd be scarier. He barely looks alive or sane."
Then he noticed the long, centipede-like amalgamation of trash and cybernetics that formed Maul's lower body, the mechanical legs that skittered and twitched with unnatural movement. "I stand corrected," Derren added, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This guy is scary."
I nodded. "That hate and madness is what makes him dangerous. He's not in his right mind, which means his skills have dulled. But what makes him dangerous is the fact that he's a wild animal that can use the Force. However, I believe even his instincts have dulled. He's probably using the Force instinctively to keep himself moving, anything more would be too much for his fractured mind to handle."
Anakin stared at the huddled form, his hand twitching near his saber hilt. Through our bond, I could feel the complex swirl of emotions, anger, fear, pity, confusion. "Is that really the guy that killed Qui-Gon?" he asked quietly. "I thought he would be... not so pitiful."
I saw the look on Anakin's face, the conflict written clearly in his expression. The boy who had trained hard every day to beat a holo-version of Maul he'd seen in a recording for years. Now the monster he'd built up in his mind no longer existed. I knew Anakin had constructed an image of Maul in his imagination, envisioning that moment when he might face the killer that had haunted his thoughts for so long.
Anakin had even chosen the path of the Jedi Guardian, with plans to become a Jedi Shadow once he achieved knighthood, specifically to fight enemies like Maul. But now he saw him broken and mad, reduced to this pitiful creature. There was a lot of conflict in his heart. I could feel it through our bond, and looking at Derren, I could see that he sensed it too.
I knew in this moment what needed to be done. "Let's do this," I said slowly.
Derren nodded, stepping back slightly. "Yeah, I'll climb to high ground and initiate Battle Meditation, or do you think we can all fight him at once?"
Anakin and I both nodded. "High ground and support," I whispered. "Just to be safe. But be careful, Derren."
"It's me, Cain," Derren replied with a slight grin, trying to lighten the oppressive atmosphere. "I'm always safe." He began to climb up the debris wall, finding handholds in the twisted metal, and soon disappeared into the shadows above.
I turned to Anakin, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Anakin, we're not here to kill him."
Anakin's jaw tightened, his blue eyes fixed on Maul's twitching form. "I know. Even though killing him like this feels like it would be a mercy for him at this point." His voice was cold, detached, and his hand moved closer to the hilt of his lightsaber.
Anakin continued to stare at Maul, who still hadn't noticed us, still mumbling to himself, his eyes unfocused, clawing at the wall like a mad beast. "He scared me," Anakin said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "As a kid. I was nine when he murdered Qui-Gon. I know there was nothing I could have done. But it... hurt me to lose the first person who believed in me besides my mother. I pushed myself every day after that, just so I could be strong enough to beat him. To show that Qui-Gon wasn't wrong about me."
I felt the raw emotion in his words, the pain that he had carried for so many years. I placed both hands on his shoulders now, making him look at me. "I know, Anakin. And Qui-Gon wasn't wrong about you. But this mission isn't about vengeance."
"I know," Anakin said, his jaw tightening further. "But you said you trusted me, so let me try first. I will let the Force guide me, to not be consumed by this pain and anger. Can you do that, Cain?"
I studied him for a long moment, searching his face, feeling the burning conviction behind his blue eyes. Through our bond, I felt how powerful and grounded Anakin was in the Force at this moment. I could see clearly how Anakin's Force light didn't just shine, it blazed like a sun, enveloping everything around him with its warmth and intensity.
I even stopped using shatterpoint and closed my left eye fully, trusting Anakin's decision completely. I thought about how he reminded me of Luke, and how grounded in the Force Luke would be in the most important moments. Then I stepped back and gestured with my hand from Anakin to Maul.
"Go, Anakin," I said, my voice filled with conviction and trust. "And may your lightsaber strike with truth, but your heart move with purpose. And may the Force be with you, brother."
Anakin nodded, his expression becoming calm and focused. "Thank you, Cain."
I just smiled, crossing my arms and leaning against the beam, settling in to watch. This was Anakin's moment, and I would not interfere unless absolutely necessary. Plus seeing Anakin fight was always entertaining.
Maul stirred suddenly, his head jerking up as he sensed Anakin's approach. Those yellow eyes went wide and wild, fixing on Anakin with an intensity that was almost physical.
"JIN!"
The scream was raw enough to shake the rust off the walls, a primal roar of hatred and madness that echoed through the chamber like thunder. Maul sprang from the corner like a monster from a nightmare, his metal legs screeching against the ground and walls, sparks flying as the cybernetic limbs propelled him forward with terrifying speed. His jagged teeth were bared, his face twisted into a mask of pure rage.
But Anakin didn't flinch. He stepped forward into the attack, his hand moving to his lightsaber hilt with practiced ease. The weapon ignited with a snap-hiss that cut through the air, the indigo blade piercing the eerie dread of the cave like a beacon of hope. White lightning crackled briefly along the blade's length before slowly disappearing, a manifestation of Anakin's connection to the Force.
I felt it through our bond, clear as day. This was the moment that mattered for Anakin. Maul's future would be decided by Anakin's choice, by the path he chose to walk in this critical juncture.
Maul charged toward Anakin, his scream feral and maddening, filled with so much concentrated hatred that I felt my mind rattle from the sheer intensity of it. The walls around them shook, and I recognized it immediately.
That was a Force Scream, I thought, a Dark Side technique that weaponized raw emotion into a sonic attack. But I noticed that Anakin still moved forward, showing no signs of being affected. His connection to the Force was too strong, his mental discipline too refined to be shaken by such an attack.
Maul continued moving like a feral animal through the ruinous cavern. The scrape of his cybernetic lower half was deafening, the echoing screech of metal claws on stone creating a cacophony that filled the chamber. Sparks burst as his makeshift limbs skidded over the debris, and he lunged at Anakin with wild, uncontrolled fury.
But Anakin breathed and remained focused. Right now, in this moment, I could feel through our bond that nothing could stop him. As Maul's limbs came down in a vicious strike, Anakin shifted to the side, his foot sliding smoothly across the uneven ground. His movements were precise, economical, wasting not a single motion. His lightsaber moved with him in perfect arcs, an extension of his body and will.
The indigo lightsaber clashed with metal claws and limbs, cutting through them one by one with surgical precision. Maul's strikes were powerful but sloppy, mere echoes of his former prowess. He was nothing more than an enraged, mad beast now, and Anakin could feel it through the Force.
Anakin was like a sun in the Force, his powerful light slowly engulfing Maul, overwhelming the darkness with sheer presence and conviction. As he continued to carve and slice away at Maul's limbs, nothing Maul did could disrupt his flow.
Anakin moved like a leaf dancing in the wind, side-stepping Maul's flailing attacks, sliding under or flipping over his rushes with the grace and agility of a master of Ataru. It was a perfect display of Form IV, the acrobatic lightsaber style that Qui-Gon had favored, and I realized with a start that Anakin was honoring his fallen master with every movement.
When Maul began to throw debris at him, chunks of metal, broken droid parts, anything he could grab with the Force, Anakin turned each item around with his own Force manipulation and redirected them back at Maul. Anakin turned every dodge into the perfect position to counterstrike, never overpowering Maul directly but persevering through his hate with patience and skill.
He chipped away at Maul slowly, and methodically.
I could sense through our bond that part of Anakin wanted to make Maul suffer before killing him, to inflict pain as payment for the pain Maul had caused. But another part of him didn't know if killing Maul would make him feel better. Anakin knew, deep down, that it wouldn't bring back Qui-Gon.
But instead of being conflicted, instead of letting those competing desires tear him apart, Anakin chose to trust the Force. He let go of his need for control, his need for revenge, and simply allowed the Force to guide his actions.
In that moment, I saw something remarkable happen. Using my connection to Anakin through our Force bond, I perceived his shatterpoints, those critical junctures in his fate that could lead him down different paths. And as I watched, those shatterpoints began to lessen, to fade, as if the very act of surrendering to the Force was healing the fractures in his destiny.
Then I felt a sudden presence in the Force, one that wasn't Maul, Anakin, or Derren. I didn't know who it was at first, but it felt familiar, warm and comforting in a way that made my chest tighten with emotion. I reached out in the Force, searching for the source of this presence, and found it focusing intently on Anakin.
I thought to myself: It can't be...
Using our Force bond, I felt Anakin's mind become clearer in that moment. It was like Anakin had been seeing the world in shades of gray, and suddenly everything burst into vivid color. Through his eyes, through his perception, I felt him notice the presence as well, a familiar warmth in the Force that he recognized instantly.
Anakin's voice rang out, clear and strong, cutting through Maul's mad ravings. "You're not the same man I feared. You're not so much a monster, but a sad man forgotten... a ghost of your former self. I'm not angry at you. I pity you."
Maul roared again, attacking with a spiraling series of wild strikes, one metal claw, then the other, and finally a spring from his spider-like legs, aiming to crush Anakin beneath his full weight. But Anakin leapt high, flipping backward up a pile of garbage with effortless grace, landing atop a mound of stone and metal scraps.
Anakin raised his weapon and took the Ataru stance, the same stance Qui-Gon Jinn had favored, the same stance he had used in his final duel with Maul all those years ago.
In that moment, Maul saw something that made him freeze. Behind Anakin, like a shimmering apparition, was what looked like the spirit of Qui-Gon Jinn himself. The image was translucent, barely visible, but unmistakable, the long hair, the serene expression, the stance that had haunted Maul's nightmares for years.
Maul snarled and roared, his voice breaking with rage and fear. "JIN!"
The stance triggered something primal in the broken Sith, a memory so deeply burned into his psyche that even his madness couldn't erase it. Maul saw the image of Qui-Gon, the stance Jin had used, the silhouette he'd seen just before he fell into the reactor shaft on Naboo. It twisted in his fractured mind, blending Anakin and Jin into one shadow he couldn't escape, one enemy he could never defeat.
He charged again, driven by instinct and hatred.
Anakin remembered my words: "May your lightsaber strike with truth, but your heart move with purpose."
Then Anakin heard a whisper in his mind, a voice so familiar he wouldn't forget it anywhere, a voice he had longed to hear again for years: "Trust and believe in the Force, Anakin, as I believe in you."
Anakin's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but his mind became clear as crystal. He imagined a bright blue sky above him, infinite and peaceful, and he knew what he needed to do in that moment.
Maul's large body leaped up and lashed out at Anakin with all the fury and desperation of a cornered animal.
Anakin, in a split second, rotated his body, his blade swinging in a tight spiral. He sliced off pieces and limbs of Maul's cybernetic half with blinding speed and precision, moving so fast that he became a blur of motion and indigo light. He moved around Maul, his lightsaber carving through metal and circuitry with surgical accuracy.
Anakin dodged inward and carved a thin diagonal line across Maul's cybernetic back legs. The cut was so precise that for a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then the legs separated along the line, the severed pieces falling away, and Maul's balance was thrown completely off.
Anakin pressed his advantage. He narrowed his vision as he reached deeper into the Force, opening himself to its guidance completely. Then his eyes caught it, he saw how Maul was going to move before Maul himself knew. Lines began to form across Maul's being, glowing faintly in Anakin's Force-enhanced perception. Anakin knew the Force was telling him these were Maul's weaknesses, and Maul had many of them.
Were these shatterpoints...? Is this how Cain sees the world?
Anakin realized this from how I had described the ability to him. He saw it all, the weakness in Maul's right side, the imbalance in his left, the structural flaws in the materials that made up his lower half. Every vulnerability was laid bare before him, a map of how to end this fight with minimal effort.
Anakin moved with incredible speed, letting the Force guide his movements completely. His lightsaber moved with him in an indigo blur, each strike perfectly placed, each cut exactly where it needed to be.
In three strikes, Anakin carved through what remained of Maul's lower mechanical half, disabling him with deadly precision. The strikes were almost mystical in their perfection, ending with Anakin extending his hand and unleashing a powerful Force push to Maul's chest that sent him crashing into the wall. Maul landed hard on the ground, his body twitching, gasping for breath, but for the first time in years... he didn't scream.
He just stared at Anakin, seeing Qui-Gon's image behind him, and then his eyes rolled back and he fell unconscious.
Anakin stood still for a moment, his breath steady, his mind quiet and at peace. The cave was silent now, the echoes of combat fading into nothing.
He deactivated his saber, the indigo blade disappearing with a soft hiss, and then turned and walked away from Maul's unconscious form.
Up on the ledge, Derren exhaled deeply, climbing down and saying, "I didn't even get to use Battle Meditation. That scream had me take a moment to recover, and by then Anakin was already overwhelming Maul."
I smirked, pushing off from the steel beam I'd been leaning against. "Looks like he didn't even need it," I said, pride evident in my voice. "But I'm not surprised. I knew Anakin could win. How he would win was up to him and the Force."
Anakin reached us, and Derren and I both raised our hands. Anakin smirked and slapped them in a triumphant high-fives. "Thanks for trusting me, guys."
I chuckled, stepping forward and placing a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Anytime, Anakin. You moved like a true Jedi Master out there."
Anakin tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "I felt it. My anger didn't control me, I guided it. And then I saw them. The shatterpoints."
Derren and I looked at each other, our expressions a mixture of surprise and amusement. "Come on, Anakin," Derren said with a laugh. "You're the Chosen One, super powerful in the Force, naturally talented, and now you can use Shatterpoint too? Leave something for Cain and the rest of us!"
I only chuckled, shaking my head. "It's fine. Not to mention I still have a few more tricks up my sleeve. But I'm happy for you, Anakin. Truly."
Anakin shook his head modestly. "I don't think I have the same touch for it that you do, Cain. But I would appreciate it if you could show me how to use it properly."
I nodded without hesitation. "Of course, Anakin. I'd be happy to help."
The three of us then looked back at Maul, lying unconscious on the ground, his breathing shallow but steady. "He's alive," Anakin said, his voice neutral. "Which is more than he deserves."
He paused, then continued, his tone becoming more serious. "I know why you want to help him, Cain. But should he ever get back to his former power, I'll fight him again. And then I'll really defeat him, not this wild beast, but the Sith Lord who struck down my master."
Anakin looked at me directly, his blue eyes intense. "Not because I want revenge. But because I want to prove to the Jedi, that Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and you, were all right to believe in me."
My smile deepened, filled with warmth and affection. "Anakin, you have nothing to prove to anyone but yourself. I and everyone else already believe in you. We always have."
Anakin nodded slowly, accepting my words, but I could sense there was something else on his mind. As we began to secure Maul for transport, binding his remaining limbs with energy binders and preparing to carry him back to the ship, Anakin's thoughts turned inward.
The voice he had heard during the fight, it had been Qui-Gon. He was certain of it. But how was that possible? Qui-Gon was dead, had been dead for years.
And yet... he had heard that voice. He had felt that presence. And for just a moment, he had felt Qui-Gon standing behind him, supporting him, and believing in him.
How was that possible?
Anakin didn't have an answer. But as we lifted Maul's unconscious form and began the long trek back to the ship, he held onto that moment, that brief connection with the master he had lost. And he knew, somehow, that Qui-Gon was still with him, still watching over him, still believing in the boy he had freed from slavery all those years ago.
The Force worked in mysterious ways, after all. And perhaps, just perhaps, death was not the end that everyone believed it to be.