Star Wars:The Apprentice

Adam moved like a phantom through the refinery, his presence a shadow of death. The moment he entered, alarms blared. Klaxons screamed through the rusted halls, the shrill wailing a herald of the carnage to come. Mercenaries scrambled, some reaching for blasters, others barking orders—none of it would matter. 

With a flick of his wrist, his lightsaber ignited, bathing the metallic interior in crimson light. The first wave of bounty hunters opened fire—*slugthrowers.* A clever choice, but not clever enough. Adam barely moved as he thrust his free hand forward, the Force erupting from his palm like a shockwave. The bullets curved mid-air, twisting violently before reversing course, tearing through their former owners. 

Screams echoed through the refinery. 

Adam advanced. 

They threw everything at him—grenades, heavy blasters, sonic disruptors. He weaved through it all, dancing between destruction, his blade slicing through steel and flesh alike. A Trandoshan leapt at him from a catwalk above, a vibroblade raised high. Adam barely glanced upward as he flicked his fingers, sending the reptilian warrior *crashing* into the metal ceiling with a sickening crunch. 

"*He's unstoppable!*" someone screamed. 

Adam smirked. They were *finally* starting to understand. 

One by one, they fell. A Rodian tried to surrender—Adam severed his arm and let him bleed out. A Weequay begged for mercy—Adam crushed his skull against the wall with the Force. There was no hesitation, no doubt. These men were obstacles, and he removed them accordingly. 

At last, after wading through the slaughter, he found him. 

**Zarlin Kane.** 

The man was exactly as Adam had been told—a ghost in the flesh. Mid-forties, graying black hair, a scar running down his temple. He was seated at the far end of a dimly lit chamber, a single hand resting on his knee. He was unarmed, no visible weapons—yet he looked utterly *unafraid.* 

"*You took your time getting here,*" Kane said, his voice smooth, even amused. 

Adam tilted his head, lightsaber humming at his side. "*Your men tried to stop me. They failed.*" 

Kane sighed, shaking his head. "*Of course they did.*" 

Adam took a step closer. "*You knew I was coming. You had them fight me anyway. Why?*" 

Kane leaned back in his seat, exhaling through his nose. "*Because I had to know what kind of man you were. The Sith send assassins, but you? You're something else. Not a mindless killer, not yet. I had to see it for myself.*" 

Adam frowned. "*See what?*" 

Kane met his gaze, his eyes dark and piercing. "*That there's still something human left in you.*" 

The words struck something deep, but Adam pushed it aside. His master had given him a task. Kane would *break.* 

The Sith apprentice reached out with the Force, gripping the older man by the throat and *yanking* him forward. Kane barely had time to react before he was *slammed* onto his knees, choking as invisible fingers crushed his windpipe. 

"*You think that matters?*" Adam hissed, his grip tightening. "*You think I care?*" 

Kane coughed, struggling, but still—he *smiled.* 

"*I think you care more than you want to admit.*" 

Adam growled, lifting his other hand. Lightning crackled at his fingertips before he *unleashed* it, sending white-hot pain coursing through Kane's body. The man *screamed,* his frame convulsing, the smell of burning flesh filling the chamber. 

And yet—even through the agony—he *laughed.* 

Adam's eyes narrowed. "*What's so funny?*" 

Kane wheezed, coughing through the smoke rising from his seared tunic. "*I just… I just pity you, kid.*" 

Adam's lip curled. 

"*You think you have a choice?*" Kane continued, shaking his head. "*You think you're in control? No. You're a pawn. A slave with no free will. Just like Dooku is. Just like everyone who ever thought they could 'serve' Sidious. You're nothing.*" 

Rage flared in Adam's veins. 

"*I'm not nothing.*" His voice was a low growl, a predator before the kill. 

Kane let out a harsh, broken chuckle. "*Then why are you on your knees serving a monster who will discard you the second you outlive your use?*" 

Adam's grip *tightened.* 

Pain surged through Kane's body, his veins burning with the intensity of the dark side. But even as he screamed, even as his body gave out—his eyes never lost their defiance. 

Adam hated him for it. 

Slowly, he reined himself in. His master's orders were clear. Kane was to be *delivered,* not executed. With a flick of his fingers, Adam *released* him, watching as the broken man crumpled to the floor. Kane lay there, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. 

Adam exhaled, shaking his head. "*You should've just let me kill you.*" 

Kane let out a weak, bitter laugh. "*Would've been easier.*" 

Adam ignored the ache in his chest—the one that whispered *he's right.* Instead, he turned on his commlink, setting the signal. Within minutes, his ship arrived outside the refinery. 

Dragging Kane to his feet, Adam hauled him toward the exit. The older man didn't resist—he had no strength left to. 

As they boarded, Adam secured him in binders, setting the coordinates for *Coruscant.* 

Kane had fought. 

But in the end— 

*They all broke.* 

And Sidious would *love* this one.

The journey back to Coruscant was silent. 

Adam sat in the cockpit, staring at the endless void of hyperspace, his mind racing despite the stillness of the ship. Kane was secured in the holding cell, bound in reinforced durasteel chains. The man had remained quiet for most of the trip, though Adam could feel his gaze on him whenever he passed by. 

He ignored it. 

It didn't matter what Kane thought. What mattered was that Adam had completed his mission. 

As the ship exited hyperspace, the cityscape of Coruscant came into view, its endless towers gleaming under the artificial glow of the upper levels. Adam guided the vessel toward the designated landing pad deep within the industrial sector—one of Sidious's many hidden strongholds. 

The landing ramp extended with a hiss of steam. Adam descended first, his dark cloak billowing behind him as he stepped onto the cold durasteel platform. Dooku stood at the base of the landing zone, his expression unreadable, hands clasped behind his back. 

Adam didn't acknowledge him. 

Instead, he turned and *dragged* Kane down the ramp, the durasteel chains rattling as the broken man stumbled behind him. The older mercenary had no fight left in him—his body was weak from the journey, his burns still raw, his once-defiant gaze dulled. 

But still, there was *something* in his eyes. A quiet, lingering defiance. 

Adam hated that. 

As they entered the dark chamber within the facility, the heavy doors slammed shut behind them. The air was thick with shadow, the very presence of the Dark Side wrapping around the room like a suffocating mist. At the far end of the chamber, a single figure sat upon a throne of cold black metal. 

Darth Sidious. 

The Sith Lord was shrouded in his dark robes, his face obscured by the deep hood. Only his piercing yellow eyes gleamed from beneath the shadow, watching—*judging.* 

Adam strode forward, stopping before his master and Dooku. With a violent *pull*, he yanked Kane's chains forward, forcing the man to his knees. 

"*I have brought him, Master,*" Adam said, his voice steady. He stepped beside Dooku, standing tall, hands clasped behind his back just as his elder counterpart always did. 

Sidious remained silent for a long moment, his gaze shifting from Adam to Kane. Then, slowly, he leaned forward. 

"*So… this is Zarlin Kane.*" 

Kane let out a raspy chuckle, shaking his head. "*The great Darth Sidious himself. Gotta say, you live up to the rumors. Real dramatic setup you got here.*" 

Adam's eyes flashed with irritation, his fingers twitching at his side. Kane was still *mocking* them? After all that? 

Sidious, however, merely chuckled. "*And you, Kane, live up to yours. Elusive. Resourceful. But ultimately… predictable.*" 

Kane exhaled sharply. "*So what now? You gonna kill me? Or are we playing another game?*" 

Sidious's smile widened. "*No, my dear Kane. You will not die today. You are far too… valuable.*" 

Kane scoffed. "*You're wasting your time. You think I'm gonna break? I've seen your kind before, Sidious. You twist people, make them *think* they're free, when all you're really doing is chaining them to a bigger cage.*" He glanced at Adam. "*Like this one.*" 

Adam clenched his jaw, but he said nothing. 

Sidious merely chuckled again, his voice smooth as silk. "*Oh, but you are already broken, Kane. You simply refuse to see it.*" 

Dooku finally spoke, his deep, authoritative voice cutting through the air. "*You have spent years in the shadows, hiding from the Republic, from the underworld, from the Jedi. But no one can hide forever.*" 

Sidious nodded. "*And now, you are mine.*" 

Kane stared at him for a long moment. Then, he laughed. 

Not a weak, broken laugh—no, this was something else. 

Something knowing. 

"*You really think you own me?*" Kane grinned, his teeth still stained with dried blood. "*No, Sidious. You don't own me. But I know something you don't.*" 

Sidious tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his glowing eyes. "*Do you, now?*" 

Kane smirked. "*Yeah.*" His gaze flickered to Adam. "*And I think *he* does too.*" 

Adam stiffened. 

For the first time since capturing Kane, an unsettling feeling crept into his chest. 

Kane wasn't afraid. 

Not of Sidious. Not of Dooku. Not of him. 

Why? 

Before Adam could dwell on it, Sidious leaned back in his chair, waving a dismissive hand. "*Take him below. He will require… further persuasion.*" 

Adam gave a sharp nod. Without another word, he grabbed Kane's chains and began dragging him toward the holding cells. 

But as he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling Kane's words had left behind. 

And for the first time in a long time— 

Adam wondered if he was the one truly holding the chains.

As Adam dragged Kane through the dimly lit corridors of the facility, his mind was racing. 

Something about Kane *wasn't right.* 

The way he spoke. The way he looked at him. The way he *mocked* Sidious without an ounce of fear. 

It wasn't normal. 

Most people, when they saw the Dark Lord of the Sith in person, when they *felt* his power suffocating the air around them, either groveled or broke. Even Jedi Masters, warriors who had trained their entire lives, had felt fear in the presence of the Sith. 

But Kane? 

Kane acted like he had *seen it all before.* 

Adam stole a glance at the man as he pulled him down the dark hallway. Kane's face was bloodied and bruised, his body exhausted and weakened, yet he still carried himself like a man who *knew something Adam didn't.* 

Adam tightened his grip on the chains, his thoughts spiraling. 

What if Kane *was* like him? 

The idea hit him like a punch to the gut. 

Could it be possible? 

Could Kane have come from *his* world? The *real* world? 

It didn't make sense. But at the same time… it explained *so much.* 

Kane knew things. Things most people in this universe *shouldn't* know. He knew about Sidious. About the Sith. About manipulation. He *saw through everything.* 

Adam swallowed, his pulse quickening. 

If Kane was *like him*—if he was *also* someone who had somehow woken up in this galaxy—then that meant Adam *wasn't alone.* 

The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit. 

For so long, he had believed he was the only one. The only person who had been *ripped* from reality and thrown into a universe that shouldn't exist. The only person who had to *survive* in a world where legends were real, where monsters lurked behind the faces of politicians, where the Sith and Jedi played a game of war with no end in sight. 

But now? 

Now, there was a *chance* he wasn't alone. 

Adam's grip on the chains tightened so much his knuckles turned white. 

Did Kane *know*? 

Was that why he had looked at him like that? Was that why he had laughed in Sidious's face? 

Adam's thoughts churned as he reached the entrance to the holding cells. The guards stepped aside as the heavy doors hissed open, revealing a cold, dimly lit chamber lined with durasteel walls. There was nothing here—no comfort, no warmth. Just darkness and silence. 

Adam shoved Kane forward, forcing him to stumble into the cell. 

The mercenary grunted but caught himself, looking up at Adam with that same damn smirk. 

"*You've got that look on your face,*" Kane said, voice rough but amused. "*Like you just put two and two together.*" 

Adam didn't answer. 

Kane chuckled, sitting back against the wall, his broken body shifting as he adjusted himself. "*So, tell me… what do you think you figured out?*" 

Adam's jaw clenched. He stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him. 

Silence filled the cell. 

Then, quietly, Adam asked, "*Where are you from?*" 

Kane's smirk widened. "*Oh? We're finally asking the real questions now?*" 

Adam didn't react. He simply stared. 

Waiting. 

Kane exhaled, shaking his head. "*You're sharper than I thought.*" 

That was all the confirmation Adam needed. 

His stomach twisted. 

Kane *was* like him. 

Adam took a slow step forward, his voice low. "*How long have you been here?*" 

Kane leaned his head back against the wall, eyes flickering with something almost… nostalgic. "*Long enough.*" 

Adam felt something cold creep into his chest. "*Why didn't you tell me?*" 

Kane laughed dryly. "*And say what? 'Hey, kid, I'm from another universe too'? Yeah, that'd go real well with the Sith watching my every move.*" He tilted his head. "*Besides… I wanted to see if *you* would figure it out.*" 

Adam frowned, his mind racing. If Kane was here, if *he* had been pulled into this world, then *how many others* were out there? 

And more importantly— 

*Why was this happening?*

For the first time in *years*, Adam felt something other than anger, fear, or hatred. 

It was small. Barely there. But it was real. 

Hope. 

He stepped closer, eyes locked onto Kane, his mind overflowing with questions. "*Are there more of us?*" 

Kane's expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his tired eyes. 

Adam swallowed. "*Have you met anyone else like us?*" 

Kane exhaled through his nose. "*No.*" 

The small ember of hope in Adam's chest dimmed. 

"*But,*" Kane added, shifting slightly, "*that doesn't mean there aren't others.*" 

Adam's jaw clenched, his mind racing. "*What brought us here? Do you know?*" 

Kane let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "*If I knew, do you think I'd still be here?*" 

Adam frowned, his hands curling into fists. "*But you've searched, right? You've tried to find a way back?*" 

Kane's smirk faded slightly. He leaned his head back against the cold durasteel wall and closed his eyes. For a moment, he was silent. 

Then, in a low voice, he said, "*I did. A long time ago.*" 

Adam's breath caught in his throat. 

"*And?*" 

Kane opened his eyes, looking at Adam with something almost like pity. "*And I realized there's no way back.*" 

Adam's stomach twisted. He took a step back, his fingers twitching at his sides. "*You don't know that.*" 

Kane chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "*Oh, I know.*" He gestured vaguely with his cuffed hands. "*This universe? It doesn't play by the rules. Time, space, destiny—it's all written, all set in stone. You think we can just waltz back to where we came from? That there's some magic portal waiting for us?*" 

Adam clenched his teeth. "*There has to be a way.*" 

Kane shook his head. "*I spent years searching. If there was a way, I would've found it.*" 

Adam's heart pounded in his chest. "*What if you just didn't look hard enough? What if you gave up too soon?*" 

Kane's smirk returned, but it was tired. "*Denial's a hell of a thing, kid.*" 

Adam took another step back, his breath uneven. 

No. 

That wasn't true. 

It *couldn't* be true. 

There had to be a way home. There had to be a way to escape this nightmare, to go back to where he belonged. 

Didn't there? 

Kane watched him for a long moment before sighing. "*You should get comfortable, kid. Whether you like it or not…*" His golden eyes gleamed under the dim cell lights. "*We're here to stay.*" 

Adam felt something in his chest tighten. 

For years, he had buried the thought of home. Of going back. Of waking up and realizing this was all some sick dream. He had forced himself to accept that *this* was his reality now, that survival was all that mattered. 

But now… faced with someone else who *knew the truth*, who had *searched* for a way out and found *nothing*… 

The small ember of hope flickered again. 

And then, slowly— 

It started to die.