Location: Imperial Citadel, Deep Vaults beneath Coruscant
The darkness beneath the Imperial Palace pulsed with ancient power. Here, in the Sith sanctum buried under layers of civilization and secrecy, the old ways lived on. The Jedi Temple above had been purged—its flame extinguished. Now, only whispers of the Force lingered in these subterranean vaults… and one ghost returned to answer its call.
Darth Maul knelt in silence, his head bowed, his breath calm and controlled. His crimson and obsidian robes barely rustled in the still air. The years had changed him sharpened his hatred, tempered his fury but the fire within had never dimmed.
Above him, Emperor Palpatine stood cloaked in black and red, the air warping with the sheer intensity of his presence. A twisted smile touched the Sith Lord's lips.
"You endured exile," Sidious said, circling the Zabrak with slow, deliberate steps. "You endured betrayal. Even death could not hold you."
"I live only to destroy those who wronged me," Maul replied, voice low. "The Jedi. You."
Palpatine's smile widened. "Your hatred... is exquisite. But it can serve something far greater than revenge."
He waved his hand, and the air shimmered. A Sith holocron rose from a pedestal of black stone its facets glowing deep orange. As it unfolded, a holographic star map ignited between them, casting long shadows across the vaulted chamber.
"Do you know this?" Palpatine asked.
Maul narrowed his eyes. "The Unknown Regions."
Palpatine nodded. "A place untouched by the Jedi. Even I tread carefully there. But deep within lies something ancient. Something beyond even the Death Star. A relic of the Rakatan Infinite Empire."
He extended a finger toward a central, burning star at the center of the map.
"The Star Forge."
Maul's breath caught.
"A myth," he said.
"A weapon," Sidious corrected. "A living factory, powered by the dark side, capable of producing starships, weapons, armies. It does not obey machines or minds. It obeys only strength. Emotion. The pure will of the Force its darkness."
The holocron flickered, revealing faint schematics of enormous orbital rings surrounding a dying star black metal laced with runes, radiating raw power.
"I require it," Palpatine continued. "And I need a ghost to find it. You."
Maul's expression was unreadable. "Why not send Vader?"
Palpatine turned slowly. "Vader's task lies here. He has only recently been… remade. The boy is powerful, but still too tethered. Still focused on his precious Padmé."
Maul smirked. "You revived her."
Palpatine did not deny it. "He watched it happen. Felt her spirit cling to death while I drew her back. Her body breathes, and so does his loyalty."
Maul's smirk faded.
"Padmé is not the woman he loved. She is… obedient. Hollow. Her presence binds him more tightly to my will than chains ever could. He will not betray me. Not yet."
Maul stepped closer to the projection of the Star Forge. "And you believe I will bring it to you out of loyalty?"
"I believe you will bring it to me out of ambition," Palpatine said coolly. "Because you are no longer a Sith. You are a survivor. And survival craves power."
Maul looked up slowly, meeting his old master's gaze.
"If I find it, and bring it back what becomes of me?"
"You will not bring it back," Palpatine said. "You will awaken it. Test it. Learn its secrets. If you are worthy, it will obey you… until I arrive to claim it."
Maul sneered. "So I succeed… or I die feeding your curiosity."
Sidious chuckled. "That is the way of the dark side."
A pause.
"Start on Rakata Prime. There are ruins there gateways built by the Builders. From there, follow the dark echoes. But beware, the Forge is sentient. It has chosen masters before. It may choose again."
Maul's eyes burned with fury, but not hesitation. He gave a final nod and turned without another word.
Aboard the Silent Fang, En Route to the Unknown Regions
The Silent Fang was an ancient Sith warship—sleek, silent, deadly. Fitted with cloaking arrays and modified engines, it moved through hyperspace like a phantom. Its lone occupant sat in meditation, surrounded by the darkness of deep space.
Darth Maul.
He had taken only what was necessary: rations, relics, and a single holocron keyed to his presence. Everything else was expendable. Even him.
In his mind, the image of Padmé flickered reborn, silent, and empty. A puppet. Sidious had crossed every threshold of the dark side… and emerged as the architect of nightmares.
Maul did not fear him. He hated him.
And perhaps… he would one day replace him.
He opened the Sith holocron, and a distorted voice spoke in an alien tongue. The coordinates were there, etched in blood-red lines of Force energy. Rakata Prime. Then Lehon.
Then
Darkness.
The Forge called.
"I was cast aside once," Maul whispered. "But I am no one's tool."
His yellow eyes glowed.
"If the Forge answers to power… then it will answer to me."