Star Wars:The Apprentice

The air in the chamber was thick with silence. I knelt before my master, my head bowed slightly in respect, though my mind was racing. Across from me, Count Dooku stood with his hands folded behind his back, his expression unreadable as always. Sidious sat in his throne, the dim lighting of the room casting eerie shadows across his face. His yellow eyes pierced through the darkness, locked onto me. 

"Zalrin Kane," Sidious finally spoke, his voice smooth yet filled with an undeniable weight. "A name that lingers in the shadows of this galaxy. A man who understands power and yet does not bend to it. He has made himself… an inconvenience." 

I remained silent, knowing better than to speak until permitted. My master's words were always layered, always leading toward something. 

"He has eyes and ears in places we would rather keep blind and deaf," Sidious continued. "His influence stretches further than it should. The Republic, the Hutts, even the Outer Rim warlords… all have felt his hand in one way or another." 

"He profits from information," Dooku added, his tone carrying an edge of disdain. "He is not aligned with the Republic, nor with us, but he is dangerous all the same." 

I finally raised my head slightly. "Then why hasn't he been eliminated already?" 

A cruel smile tugged at the corner of Sidious' lips. "Because power is best controlled, not wasted." His fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair. "Zalrin Kane is a survivor. He does not move openly. He does not expose himself carelessly. He has built his network on deception, on half-truths and whispers. He is a man who believes himself untouchable." 

Dooku stepped forward slightly. "That is where you come in." 

I met his gaze. 

"You will find Zalrin Kane," Dooku continued, his voice calm yet firm. "You will negotiate with him. He has a price—every man like him does. If he can be made to serve our goals, then he will be permitted to live. But…" He paused, his expression darkening slightly. "If he refuses, you will kill him." 

I exhaled slowly, processing the order. Finding someone like Kane wouldn't be easy. If he was truly as elusive as they claimed, I wouldn't just be walking into a den of mercenaries or dealing with a rogue Jedi. This was a man who played the long game, who made moves in the dark where no one could see. 

Sidious leaned forward. "This will be your greatest test yet, my apprentice. You have spent years honing your mind, your body, your power. But a Sith is not only a warrior. A Sith must be cunning. You will not strike with brute force. You will be patient. You will learn his weaknesses, his desires, and you will use them against him." 

I clenched my jaw. "And if he can't be turned?" 

Sidious' smile returned. "Then you will erase him from existence. No witnesses. No remains. He will simply… disappear." 

I nodded slowly. 

This was different from my previous assignments. I had killed before, but it had always been in combat, in the heat of battle. The Jedi Master Jorra Venn was the only true Jedi I had slain. She had fought well, forced me to use everything I had learned. And in the end, I had bled her crystal, taking her weapon as my own. 

Every other death I had dealt had been to criminals, mercenaries, or the Geonosian spy I had executed without hesitation. Those were simple. This was different. 

Zalrin Kane wasn't a warrior. He wasn't a Jedi or a Sith. He was something else entirely. And that made him even more dangerous. 

Dooku stepped closer, studying me. "You are not to approach this as a mere mission. This is a lesson. You will learn how to manipulate as well as destroy. Power is more than strength in battle. Power is influence. Power is control." 

I met his gaze. "And if I fail?" 

Sidious chuckled softly. "Then you will not leave his domain alive." 

I forced myself not to react, not to let the weight of the words show on my face. Failure had never been an option under Sidious. It still wasn't. 

Dooku turned, walking toward the holographic display. With a flick of his wrist, a map of the Outer Rim flared to life. He gestured to a planet near the edge of known space. 

"Intelligence suggests Kane has been operating out of Eriadu," Dooku said. "It is a hub of trade, industry, and corruption. A fitting place for a man like him to weave his web." 

I studied the display. Eriadu. A world dominated by wealth and politics, ruled by those who saw power as a means to an end. It made sense. 

Sidious' voice cut through the silence. "You leave at once. Watch. Listen. Find him. If he proves useful, you will return with his loyalty. If not… you will return with his corpse." 

I bowed my head. "As you command, my master." 

Sidious nodded once before turning away, his presence already withdrawing into the shadows. Dooku lingered a moment longer, his gaze still fixed on me. 

"This will not be like Geonosis," he said. "Kane will not be so easily intimidated. He is a man who thrives in the darkness. Do not underestimate him." 

I nodded. "I understand." 

Dooku studied me for a long moment before turning to leave. I remained still, my mind already working through what lay ahead. 

Find Zalrin Kane. Convince him. Control him. And if he refused… kill him. 

Simple. 

At least, it should have been.

I stepped onto my ship, a sleek and unmarked transport given to me for this mission. It was built for speed, stealth, and efficiency—perfect for slipping in and out of places unnoticed. As the engines roared to life and the stars stretched into lines of light, I leaned back in the pilot's chair, staring into hyperspace. 

Eriadu. 

I had read about it before. A world of industry and corruption, ruled by those who held wealth above all else. It was no surprise that a man like Zalrin Kane operated there. If power could be bought, then Eriadu was a merchant's paradise. 

The problem was that Kane wasn't just another crime lord. He was a ghost. No holonet records, no confirmed sightings, just whispers. He was a man who worked through intermediaries, pulling strings from the shadows. That meant I wouldn't find him by asking questions directly. 

I would have to be subtle. 

As the ship dropped out of hyperspace, the planet filled my view. It was a polluted world, its skies tainted with the smog of endless factories. Towering cities stretched across its surface, filled with wealth at the top and rot at the bottom. 

I activated the ship's cloaking protocols, ensuring my arrival wouldn't be logged. With a smooth descent, I guided the vessel toward one of the lower docking bays, far from the watchful eyes of those in power. 

I stepped off the ramp, pulling my hood over my head. My attire was simple—black, unmarked, unassuming. I carried no visible weapons, though my lightsaber was concealed within my robes. I didn't plan to use it. Not yet. 

The docking bay was crowded with workers, smugglers, and droids loading cargo onto freighters. I moved through them unnoticed, slipping into the shadows of the city. 

Now came the hard part. 

I needed information. 

I didn't know what Kane looked like. I didn't know where he operated. What I did know was that men like him had informants, contacts, and those who feared him enough to speak his name only in hushed tones. 

I found a cantina near the industrial district. The kind of place where information flowed freely if you knew how to listen. 

The air inside was thick with smoke and the scent of cheap alcohol. Various species sat at dimly lit tables, murmuring over drinks. A Rodian argued with a Weequay in the corner. A Trandoshan sat near the bar, watching a Twi'lek dancer with disinterest. 

I moved to the counter, leaning slightly against it. The bartender, a burly human with a scar running down his cheek, glanced at me. 

"What'll it be?" 

I slid a few credits across the counter. "Information." 

His expression didn't change, but I saw the slight tension in his shoulders. "Depends on the kind." 

I kept my voice low. "Zalrin Kane." 

He stilled. 

I could see it in his eyes—the hesitation, the instinct to lie, to deflect. But credits talked, and fear whispered. 

"Never heard of him," he said too quickly. 

I leaned in slightly. "That's the wrong answer." 

His jaw tightened. "Look, friend, if you're smart, you'll stop asking about ghosts. People who do tend to disappear." 

I slid another set of credits forward. "I don't plan on disappearing." 

The bartender exhaled, glancing around before lowering his voice. "No one knows what he looks like. No one who does has lived long enough to tell. But his people? They're real enough." 

"Where?" 

He wiped a glass, thinking. "The underlevels. There's a gambling den near the factory district, owned by a Devaronian named Krivis. Kane's people come through there sometimes. If you're looking for someone who might know something, Krivis is your best bet." 

I pushed the credits toward him and stood. "You never saw me." 

He gave a small nod, pocketing the credits as I turned to leave. 

The underlevels. That was where my hunt would begin.

I left the cantina, pulling my hood lower over my face as I stepped into the dimly lit streets of Eriadu's underlevels. The air was thick with smog, the neon glow of signs flickering weakly in the gloom. The scent of oil, sweat, and decay filled my lungs as I moved deeper into the industrial sector. 

Krivis. A Devaronian who ran a gambling den. That was my lead. 

I kept to the shadows, avoiding the more crowded streets. The last thing I needed was to draw attention. The people down here didn't ask questions, but if Kane's men were lurking nearby, I couldn't risk them spotting me before I was ready. 

It didn't take long to find the place. 

The building was nestled between two massive, rusted warehouses. A neon sign above the door flickered in and out of life, written in Huttese. The entrance was guarded by two Weequay, both armed, both bored. 

I watched for a moment, observing their body language. They weren't expecting trouble. That made this easier. 

I approached casually, hands at my sides. One of the Weequay straightened as I neared. 

"Private establishment," he grunted. "Members only." 

I reached into my robes, pulling out a small handful of credits. "I think I'm a member now." 

The Weequay eyed the credits, then his partner, before shrugging. He grabbed the credits and stepped aside. "Try not to start any trouble." 

I walked inside. 

The gambling den was loud, filled with the sounds of laughter, arguments, and credits exchanging hands. Various species sat around tables, playing sabacc and other games of chance. A Twi'lek server weaved through the crowd, balancing drinks on a tray. The air was humid, carrying the scent of spice and cheap liquor. 

At the far end of the room, behind a large, circular table, sat Krivis. 

He was exactly what I expected. 

A red-skinned Devaronian with sharp teeth and an even sharper gaze, dressed in fine but slightly worn robes. He had an air of confidence about him, the kind that came from years of running a place like this without getting killed. 

Two bodyguards flanked him—a Nikto and a Gamorrean. Both heavily armed. 

I made my way toward him, moving with purpose but not aggression. As I approached, Krivis leaned back in his chair, eyeing me with mild curiosity. 

"And who might you be?" he asked, his voice smooth but laced with suspicion. 

I pulled back my hood slightly, just enough to show my face. "Someone looking for information." 

Krivis smirked. "People who come here looking for information usually leave in worse shape than they arrived." 

I didn't smile. "I hear Kane's people come through here. I want to know where to find them." 

At the mention of Kane's name, the mood in the room shifted. The laughter and conversation around us continued, but there was an unspoken tension now. Krivis' smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more calculating. 

"You must not be from around here," he said, leaning forward. "Because if you were, you'd know better than to say that name so casually." 

I remained silent, watching him. 

Krivis studied me, then sighed. "Look, friend. I don't know who you are, and I don't particularly care. But asking about ghosts is a quick way to end up one yourself." 

I reached into my robes and placed a stack of credits on the table. 

Krivis glanced at them, then at me. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Bribes don't work when the risk outweighs the reward." 

I leaned in slightly. "Then let's make the reward greater." 

Krivis raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening." 

"I don't just want information. I want an introduction." 

He let out a short laugh. "You think it's that simple?" 

I nodded. "For the right price, yes." 

Krivis drummed his fingers on the table, considering. Then he sighed. "There's a warehouse near the eastern district. Kane's people use it as a front for weapons shipments. If you really want to find them, that's where you start." 

I knew there was more. "And?" 

Krivis smirked. "And if you go knocking on that door, they'll shoot you before you say a word." 

I nodded. That was expected. 

Krivis leaned back. "If you want an introduction, you'll have to earn it. Kane doesn't deal with strangers. But… there is one way." 

I waited. 

"There's a man named Varko. He's one of Kane's lieutenants. Likes to gamble, likes to drink. He comes here from time to time." Krivis grinned. "Win a few games against him, get him to like you, and maybe—just maybe—he'll bring you in." 

I considered the offer. It wasn't ideal. But it was a start. 

Krivis clapped his hands. "So? You in?" 

I nodded. "Deal." 

Krivis grinned. "Good. Then take a seat. The game's about to begin."