by Jude Watson
Table of Contents
ENTRY ONE
ENTRY TWO
ENTRY THREE
ENTRY FOUR
ENTRY FIVE
ENTRY SIX
ENTRY SEVEN
ENTRY EIGHT
ENTRY NINE
ENTRY TEN
ENTRY ELEVEN
ENTRY TWELVE
EPILOGUE
You may think I am evil. I am not. I am efficient.
I serve my Master and the glorious Sith tradition. We are no less powerful for being hidden. We grow in the darkness. We gain strength from it.
We circle our enemy, the Jedi, and they do not know it. We laugh at what they think of as their power. Fools and liars, the Jedi think they have tapped the strength of the Force. Vet they ignore the dark side. It is their most profound mistake, the deepest foolishness of their order.
They say: We do not seek power. Yet they have it. Why do so many in the galaxy admire the Jedi?
Because the Jedi tell them to.
But one day the galaxy will see where true strength lies.
This is why I have begun this journal. Someday I hope it will be included in the Sith Archives, joining the stories and legends of the most glorious Sith Lords.
I have served my Master faithfully. I have been on many missions. But this mission is different. My Master’s plan goes beyond the puny planet of Naboo to take in the entire galaxy. The Jedi will be called in at some point. The galaxy is full of cowards who look to the Jedi to help them cope. We are prepared for this.
I look forward to it.
On this mission, the Sith will reveal themselves to the Jedi at last.
We will devour them.
My Master has called me to Coruscant, to a secret place where I remain hidden, waiting for him to summon me.
I do not mind waiting. I use my time wisely. Waiting time is training time. Every minute of my life is devoted to learning the glorious Sith tradition as well as hard physical training. I keep myself in a constant state of readiness. When I meet the Jedi I will be at the peak of my power. I will be the strongest fighter in the galaxy.
Every training exercise has value, even the most basic ones. For example: One of the earliest training exercises taught by my Master consisted of running up a wall. I started from one end of the training room and ran toward the wall. I took several steps up the wall with my momentum and then flipped over to land on my feet. I did it over and over, even as my leg muscles burned with fatigue. If I missed, I could have broken my neck. Still, I continued. There is no fear in a Sith. Training drives out fear. The greatest thing I have learned about the Sith tradition is to be prepared to lose my life at any time.
When I was a boy, this was a basic exercise I could not master. I suffered many blows on the head and shoulders as, without the necessary strength, I fell backward. I would try to cushion my fall with my hands.
Never break a fall, my Master would say. If you are prepared to break your fall, you are prepared for the fall itself. Sith do not fall. They do not fail.
So, unable to break the fall, the next time I would fall more painfully than before. Soon my body was covered with bruises.
My Master would say this: There is no pain where strength lies. Do it again.
My head spinning, my bones aching, my legs trembling, I would do it again. And again I would fall.
There is no pain where strength lies. Say it!
There is no pain where strength lies, Master.
Do it again!
Each part of my training prepared me, and now I reap the benefits of my struggle. Now I never fall. I run, I take four, five, six steps up the wall, and I flip through the air to land on my feet.
When I complete my basic exercises, I power up my double-bladed lightsaber and practice maneuvers. My body is as strong as durasteel and as fluid as water. I shift from one position of attack to another. I fall on one knee and slash my lightsaber as I imagine cleaving my victim cleanly. I roll away and grip my lightsaber with both hands for a vertical sweep. I leap and twist and come down, leading with my left shoulder. I deliver a death blow and leap away, somersaulting in the air. I perform ten thousand slashes, lunges, attacks.
My lightsaber is no longer a separate weapon, but part of my arm. I move in the time it would take my opponent to blink. I move in the time he would take to raise his weapon. He would only see the space where I had been. He would feel the sudden shock of the blow that would knock him to the floor.
I do these maneuvers a hundred times a day. I do them even though my body knows them intimately, even though I have not made a mistake or a misstep in years. I do them until the memory of the movement is part of the muscle itself. The goal of the Sith is to fight without thought.
There is no pain where strength lies.
I end with a triple backward flip. My breathing is ragged, my muscles on fire. You may think I would quit. I never quit. I am just beginning.
But I am signaled on my comlink. My Master calls me.
I wear my comlink at all times, even when I’m sleeping. I am ready to serve in an instant.
I take the turbolift to my Master’s secret strategy and communications room. He waits in the center of the room, in front of the holocomm monitors.
“The Neimoidians are signaling me,” Lord Sidious tells me. He makes an irritated gesture. We do not have much confidence in the intelligence of the Neimoidians. They are useful, however. Their most important characteristic is their greed. We can exploit that for our own ends.
My Master has taught me that power used indirectly can be just as effective as a full-scale assault. We do not need to be on the front lines. We can hire fools to do our fighting. My Master controls their actions. He rules through fear and intimidation. It never fails. One day we will rule openly. But until then, we will use others to conquer.
My Master has not shared every detail of his plan with me, but he has shared more than usual.
I know that his alliance with the Trade Federation is merely the first step toward his larger goal.
The peaceful planet of Naboo is now suffering under a blockade. The Neimoidians who run the Trade Federation seem to be the culprits. But it is my Master who pulls the strings.
The blockade will be followed by an invasion. The Neimoidian ships are crammed with battle droids and equipment. They only wait for a signal from Lord Sidious.
First, the vulnerable Queen Amidala must sign a treaty with the Trade Federation. It is better if the actions of the Trade Federation have at least the illusion of legality. Then Lord Sidious will begin to consolidate his power throughout the galaxy. His vision goes beyond one insignificant planet.
I am by his side. There are only two of us. That is enough, because we are Sith Lords. Our power is immeasurable, our range limitless.
“I want you to hear the transmission,” my Master continues, raising his hood to cover his face. “No doubt they have contacted me because of some ridiculous setback that has sent them into a panic. Stay out of sight.”
I move to the side.
The image of the Neimoidian coward Dofine fills the screen. Lord Sidious asks him impatiently what he wants.
Dofine blubbers, “This scheme of yours has failed, Lord Sidious. This blockade is finished! We dare not go against these Jedi.”
I see my Master stiffen in anger. He doesn’t like to be surprised, and the Jedi have entered the picture sooner than we thought they would.
But I feel a different emotion: pleasure. This means that my Master will have to call on me to fight them. Neimoidians are no match for Jedi.
I tell myself to control my anxious desire. If my Master senses it, he will rebuke me. I h
ave been punished for my impatience in the past. I don’t blame Lord Sidious for the punishments—they only made me stronger. Yet I do not want to invite them.
Dofine’s whimpering doesn’t help my Master’s rage. The fool cries out that the blockade is finished. His panic makes him stupid.
I sense my Master’s anger surge. I can only glimpse part of his face beneath the hood, but I recognize the signs. His mouth tightens. His anger is now like a living presence in the room. Not only have the Jedi been called in, but the Neimoidians are caving in at the first sign of pressure.
My Master’s contempt paralyzes Dofine. He turns to the next Neimoidian in charge, Nute Gunray.
“I don’t want this stunted slime in my sight again,” he orders. We watch Dofine scurry off like a frightened child.
Even in small conflicts, I see I have much to learn from my Master. He uses his anger like an electro-jabber, to frighten and motivate. I must learn to use my anger as elegantly as I use my lightsaber. Finesse can never be overvalued.
He tells the Neimoidians to begin the invasion and does not listen to their protests. He then orders them to kill the Jedi immediately.
The screen goes black. Lord Sidious says nothing. I wait before speaking. If I interrupt my Master’s thoughts, I will regret it. But the question burns on my lips, and at last I must ask it.
“Do you think the Neimoidians are capable of getting rid of the Jedi, Master? They are fools.”
He nods slowly. “Yes, they are fools,” he agrees. “But even fools can get lucky.”
My relationship with my Master is complex. He rules me. He orders me and directs me. Yet we are both Sith Lords, and though I am his apprentice I share some of his power. As I have grown, so has his confidence in me. I stand by his side, but slightly behind, in his shadow.
I am content there. I still have much to learn. Not in battle, but in larger strategies. He sees weakness and exploits it. He senses anger and inflames it. His vision takes in a galaxy, with its multitude of planets and governments. The complexity doesn’t intimidate him. He can hold it in his mind and know that someday, he will control it all.
When I return to my training room, I activate a panel to look out over Coruscant. The city spreads out above, below, and around me. It extends as far as I can see, curving to the horizon.
This is a favorite time of day for me, the last gasp of the strangled setting sun. Crimson flashes like splashes of blood off the millions of windows and metallic ships. The lights of the buildings illuminate the sky like a dozen moons. Even at night, Coruscant is never dark. The planet has no forests or mountains, and even its streams have been paved over and built on. It is a world made up of one city.
Billions of beings live on Coruscant in billions of dwellings. Yet here it is possible to have more privacy than on a sparsely populated planet. Among billions of beings, there are just as many ways to be secret. My Master Lord Sidious has created our lair, a world within a world. Around us throbs the city, but here we are invisible.
Out among those lights is the Jedi Temple. There the Jedi sit meditating while we act. They dream of a galaxy of justice and peace. It makes me smile to think of what they are about to face.
I cannot calm my eager, racing mind. I know the Neimoidians will fail to kill the Jedi. I will be called into service. All my life I’ve waited for this.
But wishing for the failure of the Neimoidians means that I am wishing that an order from my Master will fail. I don’t like this contradiction. It borders on disloyal. But I can’t help feeling it. The Jedi are mine. Mine to taunt, mine to destroy. I want my Master to see that I am a worthy apprentice. I’ve thought I’d been tested before. But this is my first true test. The ultimate test.
I strain my eyes, but the Jedi Temple is not visible from this viewpoint. I imagine it instead. I see a smoking ruin, a blasted shell. The bodies of fallen Knights and Jedi Masters are littered around it. I stand on the rubble before my Master.
Here is what I have done for you, Master.
I am pleased, Lord Maul.
I activate the panel, and it slides closed. The blinking lights of the city narrow to a slit, then disappear.
I must focus my mind. The Jedi are out there. I will meet them someday, and soon. I cannot bring the moment closer by wishing for it.
I feel some fatigue and hunger. That means I should undertake my most difficult training of the day. I push my body whenever I can. This I have learned from my Master. Events do not wait until you are well rested. You must be able to fight at the peak of your control even when you lack sleep and food.
It is time to activate the assassin droids.
Assassin droids are a necessary part of training. They are programmed to fight to the death. Blasters are built into their chests and hands. Their accuracy is perfect. A miscalculation on my part could be lethal.
I activate three droids and power up my double-bladed lightsaber. I am outnumbered, but assassin droids can’t move as quickly as I can. They cannot jump, and their flexibility isn’t as finely tuned.
Their weaponry makes up for that.
They track me easily in the empty room, their sensor lights flashing. I meet the first barrage and deflect it with my lightsaber, spinning it in a blur of motion while I track the next blaster fire and meet it. I can feel the power of the dark side. Aggression fuels it. The darkness throbs furiously, beating in my muscles, making me merciless and effective.
This is what I love: the feel of the dark side of the Force pulsing, growing, until the air crackles with the charge. It is the charge of blood and pain and anger. I control it. I manipulate it. It only makes me stronger.
The assassin droids are programmed to use complicated fighting strategies. They try a flanking maneuver, but I leap over them, the dark side fueling every muscle, and come at them from behind. I destroy the first droid as the second and third turn and fire.
I am already a millimeter away, escaping the fire and twisting to deliver a cleaving blow to the second droid. It topples, its sensor lights still flashing. I bury the other end of my lightsaber in its control panel. It lets out a screech of protest that sounds almost human. Smoke rises and I breathe it in. It is the smell of the Jedi Temple burning. The pleasure of destruction builds, makes my blood pound.
The third droid swivels. Instead of coming at me directly, it wheels to the right. I feel a start of surprise. It is a new maneuver. The droids are continually reprogrammed.
The maneuver and the surprise please me. I do a backward somersault as blaster fire pings over my head.
Challenge. That is a cornerstore of Sith training. Lord Sidious keeps me off balance.
This mission will challenge me. He told me that. I must not assume the Jedi will be easy to defeat. I must remember the power the dark side will give me. I must be confident, and I must be prepared.
Many times in the past, Lord Sidious gave me duties to perform without telling me the reason why. But now my Master includes me in communications with the Neimoidians. This must mean that he’s come to trust me completely. He has come to see how valuable I am.
The blaster fire is close, closer than I like. I can feel the heat on the sleeve of my tunic. I smell singed material. The assassin droid has suddenly flipped sideways and aimed from the chest. I’ve been distracted.
Anger rises in me, which is good. The darkness crests and roars. I twist in the air, my lightsaber twirling, revolving. Its balance is perfect in my hand. I strike one hard blow to the left flank of the droid. I feel the power of the move reverberate all the way to my shoulder. It gratifies me. The other blow to the right follows a fraction of an instant later, so close that an observer would not be able to tell which blow came first. They would only see the armless droid wobble, its internal balance mechanism destroyed.
It is an easy job to slice off its head. The droid crashes to the floor, now a useless heap of smoking metal. I kick it out of my way with a smile, my lightsaber held loosely in my fingers. One day I will see a Jedi at my fe
et just like that.
Suddenly, my lightsaber is gone. It flies from my hand across the room. It lands in the hand of my Master.
I never see him enter. Not if he doesn’t want me to.
The smile of triumph fades from my face.
“Do you think,” Lord Sidious says, walking toward me, “you can ever relax your guard?”
“No, Master.” What a clumsy, weak mistake. I should be prepared for him to enter at all times. How could I have forgotten that, even for a moment?
The lightsaber whirls in the air, twirling, held in my Master’s hand. I can’t track it, it moves so fast. But I know it’s heading for me.
Lord Sidious moves faster than my eye can follow. I smell heat and smoke. The laser traces the outline of my body, my face, my hands. The buzz is loud in my ear. One flinch, one involuntary twitch of a muscle, and I am dead.
I do not flinch.
At last, Lord Sidious deactivates my weapon. He tosses it toward me. The sweat on my palm almost causes me to drop it.
“Do not let me see you relax your guard again,” my Master says. His eyes burn. “You are valuable, yes. But you are not indispensable, Lord Maul. I can do without you.”
A flick of his robe, and he is gone.
I feel my leg muscles shudder as I lower myself to my haunches. I breathe slowly, in and out, until I am calm again. He is right. I will not let it happen again.
It is the Jedi’s fault that I failed my Master. I pictured a Jedi at my feet, and I allowed myself to be distracted. Now I focus my mind on the Jedi, tunneling my hatred and anger into a blade directed at them. The hatred is a hard, cold place, yet it burns. They are my enemy, and I will beat them because I am better, stronger, and smarter. I have weapons they don’t have. I have my anger. And my most important weapon: I have no mercy.
I remember one of the first lessons my Master gave me on the Jedi:
Do not underestimate the Jedi. Even though they have a fatal flaw, they are formidable.
What is their fatal flaw, Master?
Compassion.
I did not always live here. I’m told by my Master that I come from Iridonia. That world means nothing to me. I have no curiosity about my home planet. I could travel there to see where I came from, but what would be the point? I am interested in what I am, and what I will become. My life before I was a Sith is meaningless.
