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2020-11-05
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Seduced by the Force

Summary:

Something ancient stirs, instilling new life into an old vengeance.  Darkening the stars
with an unholy creation.

Work Text:

 
 

"SEDUCED BY THE FORCE"
A "Star Wars" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

*   *   *   *   *

The figure paused before the funeral pyre.  Dark light flickering deep within the hooded confines of his cloak.  The boy on the opposite side of the pyre was restless.  Anger deep and vivid to his sight.  Hunger leapt from dark depths to touch the boy as he stood, head held high, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the man being consumed in flame before him.  Funerals were such emotive things.  A maelstrom of unfettered emotions, an elixir to be savoured like a fine wine.  He watched the boy, his dark power insinuating connections on a deep level well beyond the subconscious.  Tapping into the rage and fanning it with quiet insistent urges and dreams of vengeance.  A connection.  That was all he needed.  However tenuous it would give him a pathway.  The rest would be history.  He would see to it.  The boy was strong but his power was unfettered.  He lacked focus.  He would give him that focus.  Channel that sweet dark fire and bend it to his purpose.  Already he had taken his first step upon the bridge of trust he was building between them.  So slow, so subtle, that the boy was unaware that the responses he gave were not his own creation.  Oh yes, the boy had promise.  Next he would need to find out if he could handle the power.

He took the boy under his protection.  His mother having died many years ago and there being no other siblings.  An orphan.  A challenge.  A protege. The boy was confused, not understanding why this most ancient of homes could be home no longer.  Yet he trusted the dark energies that emanated from his sponsor, the soft sibilant whispers of power that slithered through his veins whenever Palpatine spoke to him.  It was rare to have such patronage.

"Your father was my friend."  He said.  Soft voice managing to sound concerned and caring and distant all in the same silken breath.  "He had the power of the Force in him.  Ancient, venerable, but threatened."

The boy frowned and looked up at the hooded figure.  "I don't understand why they killed him.  How.  Why didn't we fight back?"

He was angry.  Good.

"It's a long story...."

"I have time."  Said the boy bitterly.  "A lifetime have I.  Tell me."

Palpatine nodded, affecting reluctance.  Not wishing to seem to be too willing.  Let the boy think he had fashioned this conversation.  Forced this knowledge into being.  "Once the Force was whole.  A unified energy that bound all things in the Universe.  A marriage of light and dark.  A symbiosis between matter and essence.  The dark energy was always stronger, more subtle, more able to satiate corporeal needs and sustain life.  There were those who were jealous of it, feared it, divided the energies of the Force in an attempt to extinquish the dark side in favour of the light.  Your father fought to preserve the balance of the Force, to give equal passion to both sides.  As more and more of the Jedi began to raise themselves up above the true nature of the Force, more of them allied themselves to the light and turned away from the dark side.  Pronouncing the light as good and the dark as evil.  Denying the truth in their blind ambition to warp the nature of the Force to their own purposes."

The boy frowned, hatred stirring as he listened.

"Your father believed he could make them understand.  Polarising the Force was anathema to him.  If the Jedi succeeded they would be dividing the very fabric of the universe against itself."  He paused as if the words pained him.  The boy held his hand more tightly.  Unconsciously giving of his strength in compassion.  "They killed him and many other great Lords of the Sith were hunted down and exterminated.  Suddenly the Force was seen as something to be clensed, purged of any knight still allied to the dark side. A tragedy.  An error of judgement.  A fatal flaw.  A wrong more evil than any charge laid before the Lords of the Sith by the Jedi knights.  Ancient are we.  More ancient even than they.  To bury the truth they must bury us.  And so they built armies of Jedi knights, indoctrinating them in the ways of the Force but denying their true heritage by cutting them off from the dark side.  Teaching them that we were an abomination and that only they deserved to live.  A hundred years and a hundred years more they have hunted us down. Until the stones upon which we built our temples trembled with the ferocity of the onslaught.  Our Lords dwindling to but a few handful of worthy souls trapped by numbers to remain hidden.  Biding our time until we could rise again and reclaim what was lost.  Restore what was broken."

"You are a Lord of the Sith."  It was not a question but a certainty.

Palpatine drew back his hood.  "Such insight in one so young.  The Force is strong in you, little one."

"Not so little,"  He fired back, head held high to emphasise his size. "I am 12 years old and I am not afraid.  I want to learn to fight the Jedi. To take back what was ours.  I want revenge."

"Patience.  If you want these things you must first earn them.  Prove yourself worthy."

"How?"

They had entered the far chamber of the ziggurat.  Pale light gleamed against black polished stone.  Silent as a tomb, yet not empty, not silent. The stone whispered to them of past glories.  Spirits stirred and kept pace with them.  Palpatine could feel them, taste their energies coalescing around the boy with a hunger that demanded to be fed.  His thoughts kept them back. Kept them wary of overstepping their mark.  For angering him was something they would not do.  Even for a fresh soul to corrupt and feed on.  Patience. And he would be theirs.

"There are always two: a Master and an Apprentice."  He paused and turned to face the boy.  "It is a long time since I last took an apprentice."

Face eager the boy could hardly restrain his excitement.  All his hopes and dreams shone in his eyes, the Force swirling through him like a dark whirlpool taking every emotion he possessed in a dizzying maelstrom that made Palpatine smile with the promise in him.  "Choose me, Master.  I will not fail you."

"Such a promise may be more than you can fulfill."

The boy's eyes darkened, became hooded as malice filled his heart. "Teach me and I will destroy these Jedi.  Show me how to fight them, how to avenge my father's death."

Palpatine looked at him in silence for a moment, savouring his energy, tasting its' potential.  It was a long time since he had sensed anyone this strong.  He nodded slowly.  "Very well.  I will take you as my apprentice, but be warned.  My word shall be life and death to you.  To defy me even in the smallest of things is to risk a wrath that may destroy you utterly, do you understand?"

He nodded.  "I understand."

"Do you accept that I will have the power of life and death over you? That you will surrender your will to my own?"

"Yes.  I accept."

He paused, wanting the solemnity of the oath to be taken to heart and engraved into his soul.

"Of all the things I will teach you the most important is patience."

"Patience?"

"Yes, patience."  He replaced his hood and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder.  "We must be careful.  Move slowly.  Rebuild our strength gradually.  The politics of our return to power must be carefully laid, brick by precious brick.  We already have some of our people in place but there is still much to be done and I yet have a part to play in that.  To create cracks in their empire we must bury our roots deep.  In the meantime I will train you, teach you the ways of the Force, give you back the heritage that was lost."

"Then you will teach me to kill Jedi?"

"All in good time."

He looked at the boy, noticed he was standing straighter now.  Pride and hope returning to him.  The first of many gifts he would give.  The boy's small horny nodules were just breaking the surface of his scalp.  A sign that he was entering puberty.  A volatile time for the energies he would be awakening in him.  A perfect time to mould a new and devastating weapon in the fight against the self righteous Jedi.  The boy grinned at him, his teeth blackened in places where the teeth had rotted.  "Then I will paint my face and wear the mask of the warrior as my people have done for thousands of years."

Palpatine shook his head gently.  "Not yet.  Lord Maul would not approve of his son giving away his purpose so soon to our enemies."

His face fell.  His Master hid a smile.  "When you are ready you may put on your painted mask and step out of the shadows but not before.  Until then we must work quietly, carefully, diligently.  Our enemies must not know until it is too late that the Dark Lords of the Sith have returned.  When we move it will be to crush them utterly."

"I will not disappoint you, Master."

Palpatine smiled, preparing himself mentally to return to the political arena.  To hear the vote for the new Senators who would be taking their places in the Senate.  He had worked hard to have his name prominent amongst the candidates.  Forming close ties with Senator Valorum and making sure he never contradicted them but always appeared to support the line they postulated.  He patted the boy on the shoulder, eyes gleaming.

"I must leave you now for a few days.  When I return we will begin."

The boy bowed formally, already developing the natural relationship that would bond both Master and Apprentice.  "I will be ready, Master."

*   *   *   *   *

TWELVE YEARS LATER...

The sun was setting on Tatooine but night or day made no difference to him.  He was oblivious to everything but the need to perfect his art in the dark side of the Force.  Even among his own people he was one of a kind. Revenge drove him.  Bitterness tainted his every thought, shaped his every deed.  Power fed him yet still he hungered for more.  His Master urged him to be patient but it was hard.  Every moment spent in stillness felt like a moment wasted.  A moment when the bloodlust raging through his dark heart threatened to rise up and choke him with an anger than had seethed and brewed for over a decade.  His moment was coming, he could feel it.  Yet patience bound him as painfully as any chains.  He glowered from his red mask.  Eyes forever burning with a tireless fire.  His Master was coming.  He could feel his approach like a ripple in the Force.  The quickening in his viens that presaged the power he served drawing near.

The soft kiss of velvet cloth on flagstones was music to his ears.  His master appeared, perfectly poised and elegant in his hooded starkness.  The very air vibrated with his power, excited and impressed his apprentice. Bound him still further to their dark purpose.  They had waited for so long. Plotted and planned, stealthily building their small cadre of apprentices in the traditions of the Dark Lords of the Sith.  The darkness hungered as they hungered, drawn by the heady promise of deliverance.

*   *   *   *   *

It was hard for Qui Gon-Jinn to ignore the words of Mace Windu, burned into his memory as they were.  Yet again he had been accused of being reckless.  Taking risks without thinking beyond his own narrow perspective. He recalled Yoda's words when they had discussed it afterwards.  "Consider the Force you must, guide you it will."

It hurt to be admonished again.  He realised the reason it hurt so much was because he had failed.  Now here he was accusing Obi Wan of the same thing.  Not in so many words of course, but in his reaction to the boy's questioning spirit.  The way he treated him.  His look a rebuke that burned the boy right down to his soul.  It was not fair to take it out on him but he could not bear the thought of Obi Wan making the same mistakes he had.  He wanted to protect him.  To spare him if he could.  He was outside the Jedi Council chamber waiting to have a word alone with Yoda.  Obi Wan was with the other apprentices, renewing old friendships.  Forging new ones.  For a time
they would return to their temple studies and enjoy the company of other Jedi.  It made for a holiday of sorts but one with a serious purpose for Qui Gon.  At last the Council broke up and the chamber emptied.  Qui Gon bowing politely and exchanging pleasantries with the others.  Mace Windu caught his eye and just looked at him.  A wealth of meaning passing between them before he gave a slight bow and continued on his way.  Soon there was no one else in the chamber but Master Yoda.

Qui Gon hestitated just outside the open doors.

"Why wait do you, when impatient you have been?  Hmm?"

Qui Gon smiled slightly and stepped into the chamber, closing the doors gently behind him.  When he turned he bowed to his old Master with love and reverence.  "Forgive me, Master Yoda.  I am sorry to trouble you."

"No trouble it is to listen to a friend.  Help if he will let me.  Mourn if he will not."

"It is about Obi Wan."

"This have we spoken of before.  Matter closed."

He nodded.  "I know, Master, but he is young..."

Yoda nodded.  "Impatient, intolerant, reckless is he.  Like another it seems."

Qui Gon sighed.  "It is true.  I have been too impatient.  Obi Wan has a good heart.  He will learn."

"Yes, learn he must if a Jedi he is to become.  A warning I give, listen you must.  If learn he cannot, a Jedi he will never be."

He paled at the words.  It seemed too severe.  When he did not speak, Yoda tilted his head a little, seeing more clearly with his wisdom than most saw with their eyes.  "Unfair you think it is?"

"No, no, Master."

"The Council is agreed."

Qui Gon nodded.  "I understand but it will be hard for him.  He will take it as a set back."

"Better a set back than failure, Qui Gon.  We correct those we love. Know this you do."

He nodded, too much emotion in his heart to speak.  Yoda got up and started to leave the council chamber.  He paused to look at Qui Gon.  His voice gentle but firm.  "Take him away you must.  Far from distraction.  In isolation his heart you will see and all will become clear."

"He was looking forward to spending time with his friends."

"Friends he will see again.  Or not.  This chance has he, take it he must.  Use the time wisely.  Return to his place among us.  Two weeks have you."

"Two weeks!"  He exclaimed.  It seemed so short a time.  What did Master Yoda think he could accomplish in two weeks?

"Trust in the Force."

Qui Gon looked up slowly but Master Yoda had gone.  He stood for a few moments alone and bowed in the centre of the council chamber.  Alone with his thoughts.

*   *   *   *   *

Obi Wan was sad to leave.  Knew he was in disgrace though could not understand why no one seemed to consider what he had done in the light of why he had done it.  They had been on a mission.  Two of the other apprentices had also been on that mission along with their Masters.  One of the apprentices, Narak Sol, was in difficulty.  Obi Wan saw the problem, knew he was supposed to keep watch on the far side of the watch tower, but could not wait for the others to reach them.  His concern was for Narak, afraid that if he waited Narak's will would weaken and he would fall.  So he had left his post and gone to Narak.  Helped him back along the narrow ledge to safety then had been unable to return to his position because the Tenon Ree had taken it.  Only the quick thinking of Qui Gon and the others had prevented them being routed and failing in their mission.  As it was the Force had been with them and they had managed to overcome their attackers and rescue the children.  Qui Gon had been so angry with Obi Wan but his apprentice stood by his decision.  Unwilling to leave a friend to fail if there was a chance he could save him, even though it had almost cost them lives.  Part of Qui Gon dispaired of Obi Wan.  A greater part of him applauded.  At times there was entirely too much of Qui Gon in Obi Wan to be good for either of them.

So they made brief farewells and left.  Qui Gon setting course for a barren moon several parsecs away.  No one ever went to Durila 3.  Not since the last great war with the Sith Lords had any Jedi been to that desolate place.  A planet once green and fertile, reduced to a barren waste by war. It would be a fitting place for meditation and reflection.  Obi Wan made no comment on their destination.  Said not one word to try to mitigate what he had done.  He knew how serious it was, how much more serious it could have been.  After landing they found a suitable place to set up camp then went exploring.  Qui Gon explaining the ways of the Force.  The need to constantly be on your guard lest your feelings betray you.  They did not notice the ziggurat until they were almost upon it, so lost in conversation were they. The dark gleaming sides made Obi Wan open his mouth in stunned amazement.  He looked at the polished steps, feeling the remnants of an ancient power still extant in the mute symbol of a bygone age.  "What is this place, Master?"

"It is an ancient stronghold of the Sith Lords.  When they were destroyed this planet was laid to waste.  See how the plants will not grow, Obi Wan? There is no water, no food, no shelter apart from these places.  Yet no one will come here.  Would want to live here.  They say it is haunted with dark spirits."

Obi Wan's eyes went round.  He could almost feel malevolent eyes on him. It made him shiver.  "Dark Spirits?"

Qui Gon hid a smile.  "Yes."

"Why are we here, Master?"

"To lay those spirits to rest."

*   *   *   *   *

From the shadows of the ziggurat Darth Maul watched the Jedi and his apprentice.  Eyes wide and staring with hunger, hands flexing, longing to draw his lightsaber and engage his enemies in a battle to the death.  His Master was darkly amused.  His power enveloping his apprentice.  "Not yet."

"When Master?"

"When the time is right."

"They are alone.  It would be a simple thing to kill them."

"Yes, and alert every Jedi with breath in his body that something stirs that was thought dead.  Is that what you want?"

Darth Maul said nothing.  He could not take his eyes off the pair, neither of whom were aware of their scrutiny.  "They do not know we are here."  He sneered with scorn.

"The ziggurat masks our presence.  Protects us from our enemies."

*   *   *   *   *

Obi Wan gave his studies his total concentration.  Nothing distracted him from working.  It was hard at times to connect with the Force.  This place was too dark.  Too filled with memories of violence and hatred.  The closer he connected to the Force the more virulent the evil felt.  He shivered, shuddering deep, and almost opened his eyes.  Broke the link.  But that was why Qui Gon had brought him here.  Patience and Commitment.  Slowly his breathing changed, deepened, evened out.  The Force was a bright cloud of thought and light and vibrant life.  All the molecules of everything around him shimmered through him.  He felt the oneness of all things.  Became lost in the depth of feeling and connection he had achieved.  Qui Gon was pleased and Obi Wan felt his soft gentle smile like a blanket of love cloaking him as night drew in.

They spent two weeks on the planet.  Their camp gradually becoming a tiny island of light in a dark sea.  Obi Wan looked around him as they began to board their ship.  His feelings mixed.  "I don't understand.  You said we would lay the dark spirits to rest."

"Yes, Obi Wan.  I did."

He turned eyes filled with confusion on him.  "I don't understand. Nothing has changed, Master."

Qui Gon laughed.  It was a light thing, happy and unsullied by shadows. Obi Wan marvelled to hear it.  "I was not talking about the dark spirits that inhabit this place, Obi Wan."  He paused and touched a finger to Obi Wan's chest.  "I meant the dark spirit stirring in you."

Obi Wan frowned, not liking the imagery, then realised what he meant and smiled with relief.  They took their time making the return journey, Obi Wan finding himself looking back at the dark solemn planet they had left brooding behind them.  Wondering why it felt as if they were leaving something important undone behind them...
 

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